Ashton Heath shifted his position, a subtle yet definitive movement that placed Joanna Lawrence firmly within his protective orbit. His hand rested on her waist with a natural, quiet authority. He glanced at David Benington—not with anger, but with a chillingly casual indifference.
“That is a question better directed at yourself,” Ashton stated, his voice a low resonance of cold steel. He looked down at Joanna, his expression softening only for her. “Who is this individual, Joanna? Was he the source of the distress I sensed?”
Joanna met David’s gaze, her eyes devoid of the warmth that had once sustained their relationship for years. Now, there was only a vast, silent expanse of clarity. “An irrelevant detail from the past,” she replied calmly. “There’s no need to burden yourself with the specifics.”
David’s composure fractured. The sight of Joanna—once his most steadfast supporter—standing beside a man who eclipsed him in every conceivable measure was a staggering blow to his ego. “Irrelevant? Joanna, I was your fiancé. Our history...”
“Mr. Benington, let me clarify the reality of our situation,” Joanna interrupted, her voice steady and clear. “Our engagement was dissolved the moment trust was broken. We have no legal or emotional connection. I would appreciate it if you maintained a professional distance and refrained from making claims that no longer exist.”
David felt a cold void opening in his chest. For years, he had taken her presence for granted, assuming her devotion was an unshakeable constant. He remembered the woman who had once rearranged her entire life to support his ambitions, believing her love would always be his safety net. Seeing her now—not as an old man’s dependent, as he had maliciously speculated, but as the partner of someone young, influential, and undeniably formidable—felt like a jagged edge against his pride.
“Who is he, Joanna?” David demanded, his voice rising in a desperate attempt to regain control. “Was this the owner of the luxury vehicle from last week? You’ve replaced years of history in less than seven days!”
He clung to the delusion that her current state was a performance—a calculated move to incite his jealousy. In his mind, the woman who had promised to marry only him couldn't possibly have moved on so completely unless she was still trapped by the memory of him.
“Your questions are as outdated as your sense of entitlement,” Aria Rowlett stepped forward, her voice sharp with a righteous indignation that cut through David’s posturing. With Ashton’s presence lending a silent weight to the scene, Aria felt no need to hold back.
“Do you honestly believe you are in a position to interrogate her?” Aria continued, her gaze fixed on David with undisguised disdain. “You forfeited your right to an explanation long ago. Joanna is a private citizen, and her life, her choices, and her companions are entirely outside your jurisdiction. The only 'history' here is the lesson you’ve failed to learn: that respect is earned, and once lost, it is rarely recovered.”