Chapter 54 54.
Chapter 54 54.
Chapter 54: Ashley’s POV
The bright, cavernous lobby of the Bryson Tower was bustling with the usual late-afternoon rush of corporate workers and wealthy clients, a blur of polished heels and clicking briefcases. I clutched my bag tightly against my side, taking deep, steady breaths as I stepped out of the elevator.
Just make it to the revolving doors, I told myself, my eyes locked on the glass exit. Just get into a cab, go home, and lock out the world.
I thought my day of enduring whispered rumors and suffocating attention was finally done.
I was wrong.
As I neared the grand pillars near the main entrance, a distinct shift in the crowd's energy made me halt. The security guards were standing straighter, and the senior executives who usually walked with an air of absolute authority were suddenly hunched over in deferential postures.
At the center of their attention stood a woman who exuded pure, unadulterated high-society power.
Jessa Bryson. Marcus's mother.
She looked absolutely immaculate in a tailored cream pantsuit, her diamond jewelry catching the sharp afternoon light. She was listening intently to a couple of vice presidents who were gesturing animatedly, likely filling her ears with the latest corporate gossip.
My heart violently stopped. I immediately dropped my head, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, trying my absolute best to blend into the sea of moving employees and go unnoticed. I quickened my pace, keeping close to the shadow of a massive indoor marble planter, my eyes trained strictly on the exit doors just a few meters away.
I was almost out. I was practically touching the cool air of the exterior lobby.
But then, as if by some cruel twist of fate, the executive she was talking to gestured vaguely in my direction.
Instinctively, my gaze snapped upward. And right there, our eyes met.
The busy, echoing sounds of the lobby seemed to completely fade into a dead, terrifying silence. Jessa didn't stop her conversation. She didn't say a single word, nor did she make a scene. To anyone else watching, she looked like she was simply listening to the executives talking to her.
But the way her sharp, calculated eyes slowly dragged down, assessing me from head to toe—from my flushed face, to my professional maternity blazer, all the way down to my flat shoes—told a completely different story.
I knew right then and there. The news had reached her.
She didn't possess her father-in-law Edward’s explosive, hysterical joy. Instead, her expression was a mask of cold, aristocratic disdain. Her eyes narrowed just a fraction, a chilling, silent judgment passing through them that made my blood run entirely ice-cold.
In that single, agonizing look, she made her stance crystal clear.
She didn't believe a word of it. And she absolutely did not like it.
I stood frozen under Jessa Bryson’s piercing glare, my feet feeling as though they were glued to the polished marble floor. The cold disdain radiating from her was suffocating. I wanted to look away, to break the agonizing tension, but fear kept me locked in place.
Then, the heavy glass doors of the executive elevator lobby hissed open behind me, and a familiar, commanding presence shattered the silence.
"Ashley."
Marcus’s voice cut through the background hum of the lobby. I turned sharply to find him striding toward me, his tie slightly loosened, a intense, unyielding focus in his eyes. He didn't look left or right. He bypassed a group of managers who were trying to hand him a tablet, completely ignoring them.
To make things infinitely worse, he didn't even notice his own mother standing just a few meters away.
All of his attention was locked entirely on me.
"Marcus..." I gasped under my breath, my eyes darting frantically toward Jessa, trying to signal him.
But he didn't catch the hint. He stepped directly into my personal space, his large frame effectively shielding me from the rest of the lobby. "We need to talk. I checked the security logs and saw you left the penthouse before we could finish. You shouldn't be running off like this without the transport vehicle ready."
"Marcus, please, stop talking," I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.
"Ashley, I’m serious. We have to coordinate this properly if we’re going to manage—"
"Marcus!" I hissed, reaching out and gripping the sleeve of his suit jacket to force him to look over his shoulder. "Your mother. She’s right there."
Marcus paused, his brows drawing together in confusion before he finally turned his head to scan the lobby. When his dark gaze landed on Jessa, his posture instantly went rigid.
Jessa hadn't moved an inch. She stood there, flanked by the bowing executives, watching her son openly fuss over a woman she clearly considered an intruder. The coldness in her expression had deepened into something entirely dangerous. Marcus had just exposed his vulnerability in front of the entire tower—and his mother had caught him completely off guard.
For a second, the powerful Marcus Bryson looked genuinely startled. His jaw tightened, his hand dropping to his side as he fully processed his mother’s presence.
"Mother," Marcus said, his voice instantly shifting back into that cool, detached register he used for family obligations.
Jessa didn't offer a warm smile. She merely excused herself from the executives with a brief, elegant nod and took two slow, calculated steps toward us. The sharp click of her designer heels sounded like a countdown.
"Marcus," she replied, her tone dripping with a quiet, lethal sophistication. She didn't acknowledge me at all, keeping her eyes pinned strictly on her son. "I see you're busy managing... internal assets."
The way she said those words made my stomach twist into a hard knot. She wasn't just talking about corporate business, and everyone in the immediate radius knew it.
"We were just leaving," Marcus countered smoothly, his arm subtly moving as if to guide me out of her direct line of sight.
"Clearly," Jessa murmured. Finally, her cold gaze flicked back to me, sharper than a razor blade. "We will be having Sunday dinner at the estate, Marcus. Bring your... representative. I think it’s time we discuss the future of this family."