Page 83 of The Catcher
29
Four days later
The jet-black Aston Martin swerved gracefully up the driveway of the Ashford Estate, its sleek lines a stark contrast against the lush greenery that surrounded the sprawling mansion.
Natalie Ashford emerged from the car, her demeanor determined despite her windswept appearance, her leather jacket and jeans adding to her air of defiance. Her right hand was bandaged, a visible reminder of the recent ordeal she had endured. Her once-flowing hair was now cropped short after the fire had left its mark on her.
As Natalie approached the grand entrance of her father’s waterfront mansion, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being under his watchful eye, even from across the lake at her own house. The Ashford Estate exuded grandeur, itspristine grounds and imposing facade a testament to the family’s wealth and influence. Yet, beneath the surface beauty, Natalie always felt the weight of her father’s expectations, his presence looming over her like a shadow.
Entering the foyer, Natalie’s footsteps echoed against the marble floors as she made her way deeper into the estate. “Father! Father?” Natalie called out.
“In here!” came the response, Luther’s voice carrying through the study.
The air was heavy with the scent of old books and polished wood, and the luxury of the surroundings was a stark reminder of her privileged upbringing. Double doors led her into the study, where a cathedral ceiling soared overhead, and floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the lake beyond.
Natalie charged in, her eyes locking with her father’s as she approached. He greeted her with a smile, a glass of bourbon in hand, seemingly unfazed by her arrival.
Luther Ashford sat behind a massive mahogany desk, the epitome of power and authority. Animal heads adorned the walls, a testament to his hunting prowess, while small statues from the Roman Empire added to the room’s sense of antiquity. A large stone fireplace crackled with warmth, casting flickering shadows across the room.
“Ah, my beloved daughter,” Luther said. “Good to see you out of the hospital. I assume your stay was pleasant.”
“How would you know? You never visited me,” Natalie retorted, her bitterness simmering beneath the surface.
“Business required my attention. You understand,” Luther replied casually, sipping his drink.
“Haven’t I always,” Natalie muttered.
He chuckled, the sound ringing with a hint of condescension as he sipped his bourbon. “That victim mentality may have worked with your mother, but it has no place now. Besides, you were in good hands. The VIP suite, correct?”
Natalie gave a curt nod, her jaw clenched with resentment.
“Then you know how I feel about you,” he said.
She knew all too well how her father operated. His business always took precedence over family matters, even to the point of driving her mother away. It was yet another jab at her mother, a reminder of the fractured relationship that had torn their family apart.
“I know that you get me to do your dirty work,” Natalie retorted.
Luther smiled, rising from his desk and gazing out the floor-to-ceiling windows. “And by that, you’re referring to Noah Sutherland.”
“You told me those photos were collateral, that they would only be released in the event of an emergency,” Natalie continued, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “You interfered and got him removed from that case, a case that, had he not stepped back into, would have led to the death of Tyler and me.”
Luther turned back to face her, a smile forming on his lips. “And that’s why I reversed it.”
“What?” Natalie’s brows furrowed as she struggled to make sense of his words.
“Yes, you can thank me later,” Luther replied. Hewalked around the desk, closing the distance between them until he stood uncomfortably close to her. Bringing his hand to her cheek, he hovered just inches away, then lowered it. He’d rarely hugged her as a child — something to do with building character and thick skin. “Don’t baby her,” he would say to her mother.
“I underestimated Hugh’s son and the value he brings to this county,” Luther continued, his voice low and menacing. “For now, he will be allowed to continue, but don’t mistake my kindness for weakness.”
Natalie gritted her teeth, her resolve hardening. “I’m done. That’s it. Get someone else to do your bidding.”
“Done?” Luther’s cold chuckle sent a shiver down Natalie’s spine. “I think you forget who signs the checks. Tell me, Natalie, who pays for that home across the lake, the car you arrived in, and the expensive taste you have in clothes — even if they are below you.”
She pursed her lips.
“Don’t you control enough?” Natalie asked, her father’s grip on her life feeling more suffocating than ever. As she stood before him, she knew that breaking free from his control was everyone’s greatest challenge. His wealth opened doors faster than for those who had worked their entire lives, yet it could close others with a mere phone call.
“You like him, don’t you?” he said, bringing his hand to her cheek. She turned her face away. He scoffed. “What have I always taught you to be?"
