Rising from the Ashes The Heiress They Tried to Erase Novel

Chapter 907: Cade shifted his gaze, locking eyes with his assistant. For the first time, he noticed that something had shifted. The usual loyalty and discipline had faded. Instead, the man stood there, openly defying him. Before Cade could get a word in, the assistant spoke up again, more firmly this time. "Sir, we should seriously reconsider. Everyone in Wront knows who Maia is now. And honestly... if she hadn't been there today, my mother might've gotten hurt at Harmony Plaza." That hit him, but Cade kept his expression unreadable. "Let me handle the judgment calls.

Your job is to follow orders." Without hesitation, he moved forward and fixed his gaze on a window high above. A gentle glow spilled from the ninth floor, a clear sign that someone had just arrived. His next move was simple-identify the exact unit and relay it to the client. At the same time, Maia stepped into the comfort of the home she hadn't seen in days. A flick of the light switch revealed a surprising sight-everything was spotless. Chris had spent the evening cleaning rather than lounging around.

Removing her jacket, she made her way into the living room, where she found Chris slowly standing from the couch to meet her. "You're home," Chris said, his voice thick with drowsiness. Although his words were groggy, the look in his eyes was unmistakably warm. Maia's gaze shifted from Chris to the couch, catching the subtle creases in the cushions. A faint frown tugged at her brows. Though her voice held a hint of scolding, there was worry beneath it. "It's way too late. Why didn't you go to bed?" A gentle smile played on Chris's lips.

"You were out so late, I just couldn't settle down," he admitted softly, affection coloring every word. "Figured if I napped on the couch, I'd hear you come in and finally get some rest myself." Maia looked up at him, feigning a scold. "I'm not a kid anymore, you know. I can handle myself." Still, his words sent a wave of warmth through her chest. : g⍺ν⫶ⅽ Chris's laugh drifted over his shoulder as he moved toward the kitchen. "With all that tossing and turning, I figured I might as well whip up something sweet and soothing." A hint of pride crept into his tone.

"This recipe is perfect for bedtime-a little comfort in a bowl, guaranteed to help you drift off." Moments later, he returned carrying a steaming bowl, carefully setting it on the dining table. He gave it a gentle stir, releasing even more of its scent. Clouds of fragrant steam rose up, carrying the promise of something delicious. Maia inhaled, eyes lighting up. "That smells amazing! I had no idea you could pull this off. Seriously-well done!" A sheepish grin appeared on Chris's face. "Honestly? I just followed instructions from the internet.

Never actually cooked before tonight." She studied the depths of his gaze. Every gesture, every detail was proof-he wasn't some thoughtless playboy, not the womanizer people whispered about. Instead, he was quietly attentive, pouring real care into the smallest things for her. Suddenly, Maia flashed him a mischievous smile. "So, can I say that I'm your very first?" Without waiting for a reply, she dipped her head, blew gently on her spoonful, and tasted the soup-letting the moment speak for itself.

Each spoonful offered a mellow sweetness that was never overpowering, the silky texture melting away in her mouth, the balance of flavors just right. The warmth of the soup seemed to wrap Maia in gentle comfort, coaxing a smile and dissolving her stress. "This is wonderful!" she exclaimed. . . .