Dr. Hawards rubbed her forehead in resignation. This will only make her despise you more. No one is attracted to someone who behaves so extremely poorly.

“Yeah,” Drake lowered his sleeve, his expression vacant. “She already told me that. She said, ‘Don’t try anything like that again.’ Doctor, doesn’t that prove she still cares about me?”

Dr. Hawards didn’t follow his line of thinking, deftly changing the subject and redirecting Drake’s thoughts. She gently guided him through the session, providing therapeutic support. The treatment that day lasted nearly four hours. At the conclusion, Dr. Hawards offered sincere advice. She recommended that Drake gradually distance himself from this relationship and from the person who dominated his thoughts. Dr. Hawards told Drake he needed to shift his life’s focus and stop directing his attention toward that person.

Drake appeared to listen, even nodding vaguely as he left. In reality, he hadn’t absorbed a single word. Stay away from Kimberly? That was impossible!

Nightfall brought insomnia for Drake. He was still living in the apartment next to Kimberly’s Tribeca flat, but she had moved out. The night was silent and still. Drake lay in bed. The room was unlit, completely dark. Drake closed his eyes, and Kimberly’s face appeared in his mind, over and over. Suddenly, a hateful figure forced its way into his thoughts. Asher gave him a taunting smile, then took Kimberly’s face in his hands and kissed her passionately.

“No! Stop!” Drake suddenly shouted. “Don’t touch her! Get away! Get out!” Drake yelled like a madman in the darkness of his room. Again and again, he tormented himself by imagining scenes of Asher and Kimberly together, sweet moments and even passionate encounters. “No… Kimberly… please don’t…” Drake curled up on his bed, muffled sobs echoing in the dark room. “No… no…” This six-foot-tall man had contracted into a ball, crying uncontrollably.

Kimberly had just woken from her afternoon nap and was feeling rather peckish when the doorbell rang. She ran a quick hand through her hair, casually threw on a cream-colored fur coat, and went to answer the door in her fluffy slippers.

“Good afternoon, Miss Jordan. I’m the housekeeper Mr. Blackwood arranged to cook for you.”

Standing outside was a woman approaching fifty, dressed in a black padded jacket, with a kind face. Kimberly paused. “Just a moment, please. I should check on this.” Being cautious with strangers, she couldn’t simply let anyone in.

“Of course! Please do confirm with Mr. Blackwood. I’ll wait right here,” the woman replied cheerfully.

Kimberly dialed Asher’s number. “Did you arrange for a housekeeper to cook for me?”

“Yes, she’s Mrs. Wilson’s daughter-in-law, Mary. Mrs. Wilson is getting too old to come herself, but fortunately her daughter-in-law has learned all her cooking techniques. I specifically asked her to cook for you, thinking you’d enjoy familiar flavours.”

Kimberly was momentarily stunned. She remembered Mrs. Wilson. Her mother, Rosalind, had learned her cooking skills from Mrs. Wilson, and Asher had once taken her to visit Mrs. Wilson’s home. At that time, Kimberly had only met Mrs. Wilson and her son, not this daughter-in-law who hadn’t been present. She was touched that Asher had been so thoughtful, specifically asking Mrs. Wilson’s daughter-in-law to cook for her. Women often notice these small gestures. Kimberly’s heart softened instantly, becoming as sweet and tender as candy floss.

“Right, I understand now.” Kimberly ended the call and politely invited Mrs. Wilson’s daughter-in-law inside. “Please come in.”

During their casual conversation, Kimberly learned that the woman’s name was Mary, she was forty-seven years old, and had a daughter two years younger than Kimberly who worked as a primary school teacher.

“Miss Jordan, Mr. Blackwood told me which dishes you enjoy, so I’ve purchased ingredients for those. What would you like for dinner this evening?” Mary entered carrying two large bags from Whole Foods Market.

Kimberly smiled. “If Asher recommended them, I’m sure I’ll enjoy everything. I’m not particular – please prepare whatever you think best.”

“Lovely! Mr. Blackwood specifically instructed me to shop at Whole Foods. It was my first time in such a place! My goodness, everything was quite dear, but all organic and naturally sourced. Should be top quality, very safe to eat.” Mary was warm and straightforward, somewhat familiar in her manner, which Kimberly rather appreciated.

“You’ve grown so much, Miss Jordan. I wonder if you remember me – I used to hold you when you were little.”

Kimberly was momentarily taken aback. With Mary’s comment, she began to recall. Kimberly smiled. “Please, there’s no need to be so formal. Just call me Kimberly.”

Mary asked, “Very well then, Kimberly it is. Now, where might I find the kitchen?”

Kimberly pointed. “Just over there.”

“I’ll get started on dinner, then. Mr. Blackwood mentioned he’d be joining us this evening. Would a roast chicken with seasonal vegetables and a butternut squash soup be suitable?”

Kimberly nodded. “Perfect.”

Having finished his work, Asher instructed his driver to take him to Pan Peninsula. This was where he had purchased the apartment for Kimberly. To avoid any future awkwardness about not having a change of clothes, Asher had arranged for several large suitcases filled with new toiletries, bathrobes, loungewear, and everyday clothing. At the door, Asher rang the bell.

Kimberly opened it and was genuinely surprised. “Why on earth have you brought so many things?”

Asher raised an eyebrow, a smile playing at his lips. “I’d hate to be caught without a change of clothes again if I stay over.”

Kimberly thought to herself: This seems rather excessive – it’s practically like moving in together. On second thought, if Asher were to suggest living together, she realized she wouldn’t actually object.

Noticing he had rung the doorbell, Kimberly asked curiously: “Haven’t you got a key? Why ring the bell when you arrive?”

“This is the apartment I bought for you. You’re the sole owner now, so naturally, I would need your permission to have a key.”

Kimberly looked at him with amusement. “In that case, I’ll give you a spare key later.”

Asher followed Kimberly inside, with his security detail carrying the suitcases behind them.

“Don’t put it off – let’s do it today. I fear you might forget.”

Kimberly laughed. “I’m hardly that forgetful.”

Sienna had been upset with Drake lately. Drake had attempted suicide because of Kimberly, and upon waking, his first words were to ask where Kimberly was. Sienna was heartbroken.

In a noisy bar with flashing lights and a dance floor packed with revelers, Sienna sat with her friend Celine in a private booth, drinking. Celine swirled her glass. “I never would have guessed that Kimberly was the Jordan heiress. It wasn’t obvious at all.”

“Ha,” Sienna laughed bitterly. “Celine, do you think I’m just a complete joke?”

Celine awkwardly pulled at the corner of her mouth. Truthfully, it did seem like a joke.