Chapter 4 200 dollars

DAPHNE POV

“No dad. Never seen her before,” the bastard said slowly, looking me dead in the eyes.

Son? Dad? He's their son? Does that mean he’s Asher's brother? How in the hell is that possible?

I scoffed in disbelief, the shock burning right off into pure fury. “You broke my phone today,” I said angrily.

Every single eye at the table snapped toward him.

“Is that true, Killian?” The woman sitting at the table asked, her face instantly filling with worry.

He just sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"Mum, she's just another fan. Some of them will do anything to get my attention," he said bluntly, his deep London accent clipping the words like they didn’t cost him a thing.

Before I could fire back, my mother’s voice stopped me dead in my tracks.

“Daphne! What did you do?” Her eyes were wide with sheer shock as she took in the broken glass and spilled tea pooling on the floor.

“She’s your daughter?” Mr. King asked, pointing a stiff finger at me. He looked like he'd never set eyes on me before. Maybe he hadn't. People like my mother and I are invisible in houses like this.

My mum bowed her head immediately. “Yes, sir. I’m so sorry for her manners, sir. My daughter can be very clumsy.” She pinched my side hard, obviously waiting for me to apologize. I dug my heels in and kept my mouth shut.

“She said she knew my son, Killian, and claimed he broke her phone. What sort of accusation is that?”

My mum’s eyes widened further as she shot me a panicked look. I just shrugged. I couldn’t tell her the real reason behind it.

“No, sir. My daughter has bad eyesight, so I’m sure she mistook your son for someone else. We are deeply sorry.” My mum kept apologizing, and I couldn’t look away from the way her hands were fidgeting. She was terrified. “Right, Daphne?” she urged, tugging hard at the hem of my shirt when the silence stretched too long.

“My mum is right. I must have mistaken him for someone else. I’m truly sorry,” I lied, bowing my head without meaning a single word of it.

"Whether she was mistaken or not, I won't tolerate scenes like this in my house," Mr. King barked, his voice cutting through the room like shattered ice.

My mother bowed her head again. "We're deeply sorry, sir. It won't happen again. Daphne, apologize."

"I already did." I muttered under my breath.

She pinched my arm so hard I almost yelped.

"Sorry, sir." I said louder. "It won't happen again."

Richard King waved his hand like he was shooing a fly. "Get her out of here."

As we turned to leave, my foot slipped slightly on the wet tile where the tea had splattered, staining the canvas of my worn-out sneakers.

I stumbled, ready to curse, when a shadow fell over me.

"Here. Use this."

I froze, my eyes snapping upward. Asher was standing right in front of me. Up close, he smelled like expensive cedarwood and pure luxury. His dark eyes held a gentle, sympathetic warmth as he held out a crisp, white silk handkerchief.

My brain completely short-circuited. I stared at the fabric, then back at his face, utterly paralyzed. 

Asher King was looking at me. He was talking to me.

For a full five seconds I forgot how to breathe.

I couldn't reach out. I couldn't move. I just stood there like an idiot, staring at him, taking in every detail of his face. The warmth in his eyes. The kindness in his smile.

"Daphne." My mother pinched me again.

"Thank you." The words came out like a squeak. I grabbed the handkerchief. "Thank you, Asher. I—thank you."

He smiled. "You're welcome."

I bowed my head and walked behind my mother, clutching the handkerchief to my chest like it was a lifeline.

The moment the heavy doors swung shut and we got back into the safety of the kitchen, my mum’s eyes shunned with pure anger.

“Seriously, Daphne? What was that for? Why did you lie? You almost cost me my job!” she hissed, glaring down at me.

“I’m sorry, mama. I must have been wilding for a minute. I kind of felt like pissing off the rich,”

I said, shrugging it off to hide how rattled I actually was.

Her eyes narrowed, her jaw clenching tightly. “You need to stop it, Daphne. Because we don’t have it doesn’t mean they don’t deserve it.”

I knew my mum was already exhausted by my endless hatred for the ultra-wealthy. Not that I necessarily hated all of them. At least, I didn’t hate Asher. But God knows my hatred for that other bastard just multiplied by a hundred.

Pompous rich kid.

“Their younger son... I don’t think I’ve ever seen him around before. Where has he been? How come they don’t talk about him?” I asked, leaning in.

In a swift movement, my mum grabbed my lips and twisted them gently. “Shush! If you’re going to talk, lower your voice!”

I looked around the bustling kitchen and realized we weren't the only maids working.

“Oops,” I mumbled against her fingers.

My mum moved closer, dropping her voice to a whisper. “They say they don’t get along well, especially with his brother. People say they’re jealous of each other. The younger one left home and lived away with his mother for a while. Only God knows why he’s back now.”

Wow. If I were Asher, I wouldn’t get along with that jerk either.

“He looks like trouble. What’s his name again?” I asked, playing dumb.

“His name is Killian. Killian King. Don’t go around looking for trouble with him, Daphne. As you can see, he’s not the type to entertain your silliness.”

Oh, he will. Because there is no way in hell I’m letting what he did go. You’re in deep soup, Killian King.

“I won’t. And I’m sorry, mama. Today won’t repeat itself,” I promised, guilt settling in my chest knowing I really could have gotten her fired.

She nodded, her expression softening into a warm smile. “Go inside and freshen up. Let me quickly get things finished up here.”

“Alright,” I said, picking my tote bag up off the floor and heading down the narrow hallway.

The moment I reached our small room in the quarters, I slumped heavily onto the twin bed.

I felt completely drained from the sheer volume of chaos that had happened today. But the best part? Asher!

I held the handkerchief up in front of my face. I didn’t even used it to clean the tea off my shoes. Why would I ruin something so perfect? Asher gave it to me, which meant I was going to cherish it forever. He gave me his actual handkerchief. That was practically the best interaction we’d ever had since he usually barely glanced my way. I was low-key grateful I’d dropped the damn tea tray.

I kissed the fabric like a lovesick puppy, then carefully pulled open the wooden drawer, placed it safely inside, and clicked it shut.

I sighed, staring up at the ceiling as reality started creeping back in. I was supposed to be using my rare free time to study, but I couldn’t do a single thing without the phone the bastard smashed. At this rate, I was going to get kicked out of school. Unable to help myself, I pulled the ruined device out of my tote bag and just stared at the spiderweb cracks on the screen. My eyes shimmered with hot tears, but I forced them back, shoving the phone away in absolute frustration.

How in the hell did the same bloodline run through both Asher and Killian? They were completely opposite human beings. No wonder mum said they didn't get along.

A weird, dangerous thought crept into my mind just like that.

I needed to find money to fix this phone immediately. But who was I kidding? I wouldn't have a cent until the end of the month. I’d be kicked out of Westbridge by then. If I wanted to act on the crazy scheme forming in my head, I needed cash now.

I slid off the bed, dropping to my knees to look underneath it. My fingers dug around until they found the small, worn purse where my mum saved her emergency cash.

I offered up a silent prayer as I clicked it open and saw a small stack of bills inside.

“Yes! The universe is on my side.”

For a second, I just stared at the cash. A heavy weight pressed down on my chest.

I shouldn’t take it. This is her hard-earned money.

Stealing is bad, Daphne.

Just get it over with, the desperate, drowning part of my brain yelled back.

With shaking fingers, I pulled out two hundred dollars.

My heart sank all the way to my stomach, the guilt making me feel physically sick.

I’m so sorry, mum. I’ll pay you back double by the end of the month. In fact, if my plan works... I’ll triple it.