Chapter 14: Gas Tanks and Unexpected Encounters (rewrited)

Just as Barron was enjoying his stroll, soaking in the festive madness of London, a familiar voice rang out behind him.

"Barron? Is that really you?"

He turned around and saw a stunning blonde with delicate features and long legs that could probably get diplomatic immunity in some countries.

"Aurora? Wow, what a surprise! What brings you here?"

Aurora flashed him a dazzling smile. "I was out celebrating with some friends and shopping. You know, the usual. I actually live nearby now."

Ah yes, Aurora—his former college sweetheart. Back in the day, they were the perfect golden couple, the kind that made people roll their eyes and mutter, "Get a room." Unfortunately, their relationship ended because Aurora wasn't a fan of Barron's extracurricular activities with other women. A reasonable complaint, really.

Still, looking at her now, Barron couldn't help but feel that familiar charm of hers. And judging by the way she was looking at him, she wasn't exactly holding a grudge.

"I have to say, Aurora, you're even more beautiful than I remember," he said smoothly.

"And you're still just as good at flattery," she teased, her eyes twinkling.

"Flattery? No, no, I'm just being honest. It's a curse, really."

Aurora smirked. "Well, if you're so honest, how about joining me for a drink later? We can catch up properly."

"I'm flattered, but I have some things to take care of—"

"Oh, right," she cut in, her expression turning serious. "I read about your family's situation in the papers. I'm really sorry about everything, Barron."

Like many aristocrats, Barron had kept his noble lineage under wraps during his college years. But thanks to recent headlines about the Duke of Devonshire's passing, his face had been plastered all over the news. Aurora, like the rest of Britain, now knew exactly who he was.

"It's fine," he said, waving it off. "But if you're free, why don't you come over to my place? We can have that drink there."

Aurora arched a perfect brow. "Are you sure? What if your girlfriend walks in on us?"

Barron chuckled. "No girlfriend. Just me, my financial troubles, and a bottle of expensive whiskey. You're welcome to join."

The next morning, Barron met with Julia Moore, the ever-efficient manager of the family trust fund, to discuss very serious business matters—namely, the fate of a large, abandoned Victorian-era gas tank near King's Cross.

"Ah yes, the great gas tank," Julia said, pushing her glasses up her nose. "A true architectural marvel if you're into large, rusting metal structures."

"Charming," Barron muttered.

Julia gave him a knowing look. "Viscount Bute spoke to you about it, didn't he?"

"Indeed. He seems very enthusiastic about turning it into something profitable," Barron replied. "Apparently, my father was planning a joint development before… well, before everything went sideways."

Julia sighed. "Yes, your father was quite confident in his investment projects. And when they were working, they were brilliant. But now? We don't have the money to fund anything. That land has been sitting there, waiting for something to happen, for decades."

Barron frowned. "So, what do you think of Bute's offer to buy it outright?"

Julia leaned back, tapping a pen against the table. "The land is valuable, no doubt about it. But selling it now would help recover some of the financial disaster your father left behind."

"So basically, I either sell it and stop hemorrhaging money, or I hold onto it and pray that someday I can afford to develop it myself?"

"Exactly. But let's be real, Barron—your prayers won't pay off that debt."

"Harsh but fair," he muttered.

"That's what I'm here for."

Barron rubbed his temples as he returned to his bedroom.

"Aurora, it's almost ten. You should get up and eat something," he called out.

A sleepy groan came from the bed. "Mmm… too tired…"

She peeked out from under the covers, her blonde hair cascading over her pillow like a shampoo commercial.

"You're impossible," she mumbled, half-asleep. "I feel like I was hit by a carriage last night…"

Barron smirked. "I did warn you that I don't play fair."

Aurora let out a dramatic sigh. "I should've known… You haven't changed a bit, have you?"

"Not at all," Barron said, stretching. "Now get up before Julia storms in and scolds both of us."

Aurora groaned. "Ugh, fine. But only if you promise me one thing."

"And what's that?"

"That you take me out for breakfast. Somewhere fancy. None of that toast and tea nonsense."

Barron chuckled. "Deal. Now hurry up before Julia decides to confiscate my dignity along with my finances."

Aurora snorted. "Too late for that."

And with that, another completely normal day in the life of Barron Devonshire began.