027

027
027
A New Bond

When

“Lets leave here..” Ethan snapped on sighting Astor, his expression tightened.

Without hesitation, Victor grabbed his wristwatch from the chair and followed Ethan without uttering a word to Astor.

Astor leaned against the doorway as he watched his brothers leave. Victor and Ethan were still grumbling under their breaths, throwing half-hearted insults that didn’t quite land. They had been thoroughly shut down, their egos bruised, thanks to Charlotte.

The woman in question stood by the couch, arms crossed. She didn’t look at Astor, her focus lingering on the space where his brothers had been moments ago.

“Interesting, I know they'll come back…” she muttered, mostly to herself.

Astor pushed off the doorframe and stepped into the sitting room. “They always come back,” he said, his tone flat.

Charlotte turned to him, caught off guard by his answer. “And you'll let them?” she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

“It’s easier than fighting them every time,” he said, shrugging. “They’ll burn themselves out eventually.”

“Or they’ll keep chipping away at you,” Charlotte countered, her gaze steady. “Is that what you want?”

Astor didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he studied her, his grey-brown eyes searching her face for something even he couldn’t name. Finally, he let out a quiet sigh.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice low.

Charlotte blinked, surprised by his words. “For what?”

“For standing up for me,” he said simply. “You didn’t have to, but you did.”

The sincerity in his tone caught her off guard. She had expected a sarcastic remark or even indifference, but this... this was unexpected.

“You’re welcome,” she said after a beat, her voice softer now.

Astor nodded, his expression unreadable once again. “Get some rest,” he said, turning toward the hallway. “It’s been a long day.”

Charlotte watched him go, her mind racing with thoughts she couldn’t quite pin down.

\---

Later that evening, Charlotte sat in her room, brushing Jasmine’s hair as the little girl babbled about her day at school.

“And then Miss Porter said I had the best drawing in the whole class!” Jasmine said, her face glowing with pride.

“That’s wonderful, sweetheart,” Charlotte said, smiling.

“Do you think Daddy would like it?” Jasmine asked suddenly, her eyes bright with hope.

Charlotte’s hand stilled for a moment before she continued brushing. “I’m sure he would,” she said.

“Can I show him tomorrow?” Jasmine asked eagerly.

“Of course,” Charlotte said, her heart aching at the excitement in her daughter’s voice.

Jasmine beamed, her happiness infectious. “I can’t wait!”

Once Jasmine was tucked into bed, Charlotte sat by the window, staring out at the darkened grounds. Her thoughts drifted back to Astor, to the quiet gratitude in his voice when he thanked her earlier.

She hadn’t expected it. In fact, she hadn’t thought much about what defending him would mean, she had simply done it because it felt right. 

\---

Astor, meanwhile, was in his study, nursing a glass of whiskey as he replayed the events of the day in his mind.

He had never been good at accepting help, let alone gratitude. It was easier to handle things on his own, to keep people at arm’s length. But Charlotte... she had done something no one else had ever done for him.

She had stood up for him.

And not out of obligation or for personal gain, she had done it because she believed in him.

Astor leaned back in his chair, swirling the amber liquid in his glass as he stared at the ceiling. Her words played in his mind, each one striking a chord he hadn’t realized was there.

“You’re better than both of them combined.”

The statement had caught him off guard, not because he didn’t believe it, but because someone else did.

Astor wasn’t used to being defended. His life had always been about proving himself, proving to his family, to the world, that he didn’t need anyone. But Charlotte’s actions had shaken that belief.

He set the glass down and rubbed a hand over his face. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to get under his skin.

\---

In her room, Charlotte finally crawled into bed, exhaustion settling over her like a heavy blanket. But sleep didn’t come easily.

She found herself thinking about Astor, his sharp words, his quiet moments, the way his guard seemed to slip when he thought no one was looking.

Despite everything, she couldn’t deny that there was more to him than the cold manner he presented to the world.

“Did I do the right thing?” She wondered.

\---

Astor stood by the window in his study, staring out at the moonlit gardens. The house was silent, the kind of quietness that made him restless.

He thought about knocking on Charlotte’s door, about saying... something. But what could he say?

She had defended him today, and it wasn’t just her words, it was the way she had said them, with much conviction.

Astor sighed, his gaze shifting to the glass of whiskey on his desk. He downed the rest of it in one gulp, the burn doing little to calm the storm in his mind.

\---

Charlotte rolled over in bed, her eyes fluttering open as a faint sound reached her ears. She sat up, her heart racing as she listened.

Footsteps.

They were soft, almost hesitant, but they were there.

She got out of bed and moved to the door, opening it slightly to peek into the hallway.

Astor stood at the far end, his hand resting on the wall as he stared down at the floor.

Charlotte hesitated, debating whether to say something. But before she could decide, Astor turned, his eyes meeting hers.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Finally, Astor broke the silence. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.

Charlotte shook her head. “You?”

Astor smirked faintly. “Never do,” he admitted.

Charlotte stepped into the hallway, her arms crossed as she leaned against the doorframe. “Is this where you brood about your brothers?”

Astor chuckled, the sound low and unexpected. “Something like that,” he said.

Charlotte tilted her head, studying him. “You shouldn’t let them get to you,” she said.

Astor’s gaze softened, and for a moment, he looked almost vulnerable. “Easier said than done,” he said quietly.

“Maybe,” Charlotte said. “But you’re better than they give you credit for. You know that, right?”

Astor didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he looked at her, really looked at her, as if seeing her for the first time.