CHAPTER 125: ASHFORD IN ASHES

What began the next day was a storm in Damien’s life. He was detained that morning, and the interrogation began.

Although he repeatedly denied all allegations and suspicions, the officers wouldn’t let him go. When other people involved in the crime had confessed and even included his name, how could they be convinced by Damien’s claims of ignorance?

Whether Damien was involved in the crime or not, as soon as the DOJ released a statement to reporters that Prestige Associates, a subsidiary of Ashford Holdings, was involved in several crimes and had lost its license, shareholders came flocking to the headquarters.

First, they had no idea the company had acquired a firm and expanded the legal department into a legal house. Second, they couldn’t believe it had been shut down within a week of acquisition, with the head of the legal house being disbarred. Third, the investment capital used to acquire the legal house was a loan taken against the company, meaning it was all the shareholders’ money.

Reporters were camping outside, recording shareholders causing chaos in the reception area.

The worst part? There was nobody to handle the situation.

Damien’s secretary was trying to get him released. Lawrence wasn’t focusing on solving problems but planning against Damien. Maxwell didn’t dare step anywhere near the company.

The CEO of the Ashford Holdings?

He focused on preventing the situation from affecting other subsidiaries. But honestly, he was fed up with cleaning up after Damien.

When Lawrence demanded Damien’s disqualification at the emergency meeting, the CEO offered to resolve the situation on one condition: that his tentative position be confirmed as permanent CEO.

Then chaos erupted between Lawrence and the CEO.

Thus, Ashford Holdings descended into complete havoc.

...

At NexGuard,

Alaric was craving to throw his marketing team into the deep ocean and watch sharks devour them while they screamed for their lives.

The previous day, when he had heard them begging him to attend interviews, shoots, and guest appearances at multiple events, he had agreed to attend, but only one.

Well, he had underestimated his team.

They had signed him up with one media agency that had everything: a video interview for a news channel, a magazine shoot with an interview, a guest appearance at a tech event, a university lecture, and a dinner event.

How could he not thirst for their blood?

He glanced at Ezra, who was stifling laughter at his situation, then turned to the marketing manager, who smiled sheepishly.

"Sir, we selected only one out of all the options," the young manager said innocently, resisting the urge to flee.

The middle-aged editorial chief of Spectrum—an international media organization—sat across from him, all smiles. His female secretary was blushing behind him.

Now he realized Aveline had meant every word, and she hadn’t exaggerated anything. He would be busy for days, not just viral on social media.

Refusing the man now wouldn’t just offend him—it would also appear unprofessional. It would be foolish to turn positive publicity into negativity.

He nodded toward Ezra. "My secretary will coordinate with you regarding my schedule and constraints." By the end of his words, his eyes narrowed at Ezra in warning—don’t be too clever.

Ezra knew that if he overstepped, Alaric wouldn’t think twice about flipping the situation without caring about the news and media. "Rest assured, CEO Lancaster. I’ll take care of it."

Only then did Alaric nod and watch them leave his office. He picked up his mobile and sent a message to Aveline.

[Sunshine, are you scheming against me with the marketing team? Or are you just psychic?]

He received a reply shortly: [I’m deceitful.]

He smiled, shaking his head in resignation. Though he brushed off all her little antics, the back of his mind wondered how she knew those details about things that hadn’t happened yet.

Though he hated it, he had to meet some high-profile businessmen who were there for Vantex.

Of course, he received regular updates on Damien and Ashford Holdings.

The sun was reaching the horizon when his mobile rang, displaying ’Dad’ on the screen.

They weren’t ones to call for pleasantries, so he answered while brewing himself a cup of coffee.

"Ric, Damien was behind the power outage."

Alaric wasn’t surprised. He had been aware. "Proof?" he asked.

"No hard evidence," Edward responded, then paused. He was consulting with Alaric because it involved Aveline, and Damien was Alaric’s friend. "Should I take action?"

"Go ahead. Take control, but wait for the final strike," Alaric said.

Edward hummed in acceptance and hung up.

Leaning back in his chair, Alaric tried to count the number of enemies Damien had earned.

The Laurents. The Lancasters. The Fourniers. The Rousseaus. Vivienne Sinclair. The justice system. His shareholders. His allies, now turning into vultures.

Damien Ashford... I thought you were smarter than this.

As if fate wanted to mock Damien further, his phone lit up with a call from Giselle. He answered.

"Ric, Elias Hawthorne has been caught. The poisoning case will reopen tomorrow."

Alaric stirred his coffee, watching the dark swirl as a smile ghosted over his lips.

"Tsk... Damien Ashford won’t just fall. He’ll drown in everything he thought he controlled."

And this time, the world would be watching.

He sipped his coffee and felt a twinge of regret that he wouldn’t get to see Damien falling on his face for trying to steal his next project.

....

Later that evening, in a café,

The scent of roasted beans and fresh pastries lingered in the busy space as Aveline stepped inside. She scanned the space and spotted Eleanor Ashford.

Draped in a dark plum coat, her silver hair pinned immaculately, Eleanor sat like a monarch in exile, one gloved hand resting on her cane, the other curled in quiet fury.

As Aveline approached, Eleanor rose. Without a word, she struck Aveline.

’Slap...’

The slap was sharp, resounding through the café. All heads turned toward them. Murmurs filled the space, drowning out the soothing music.

Aveline didn’t flinch.

Eleanor’s voice was cold, lethal. "You’ve brought shame to the Ashford name. And I don’t care whose daughter you are, this war is not over."