Rise of The Abandoned Husband (Liam Knight) novel Chapter 10
Chapter 10: Chapter 10 – An Heiress’s Secret Kindness, A Servant’s Bitter Truth
After Isabelle left, I stood in the doorway of my shabby apartment, watching her sleek car disappear around the corner. The lingering scent of her perfume still hung in the air, a ghost of her presence. With a deep sigh, I closed the door and leaned against it.
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What was I thinking? Getting involved with someone like Isabelle Ashworth could only lead to trouble. The way she handled Roman Volkov—making a feared criminal stab himself without blinking—had shown me a glimpse of her world. It was a realm of power I couldn’t even comprehend.
“She’s too far out of your league, Liam,” I muttered to myself, pushing away from the door and walking to my tiny kitchen.
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I mechanically washed the dishes we had used, my mind replaying our meal together. The way she’d eaten my simple noodles with such genuine enjoyment. How she’d asked for seconds. The brief, electric moment when she’d touched my hand.
But reality was harsh. I was a divorced man living in a rundown apartment complex, struggling to make ends meet. And Isabelle? She was clearly someone important enough to make hardened criminals tremble.
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“Focus on what matters,” I told myself firmly, drying my hands on a worn towel.
What mattered was my cultivation. With each small advancement I made, I could feel my body growing stronger, my mind sharper. The ancient knowledge contained in my pendant was gradually becoming clearer. If I could just acquire more high-quality herbs, I might make a breakthrough soon.
Unfortunately, high-quality herbs cost money—money I didn’t have.
I walked to my cultivation mat and sat cross-legged, trying to clear my mind of distracting thoughts. Especially thoughts of Isabelle’s smile and the warmth in her eyes when she’d complimented my cooking.
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In her luxury car, Isabelle gazed out the tinted window, a small smile playing on her lips.
“Did you enjoy your… adventure today, Miss Ashworth?” her driver asked, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror.
“Very much, Thomas,” she replied, her mind still on the humble meal she’d shared with Liam. It had been the most genuine interaction she’d had in months.
Pulling out her phone, she called her secretary. “Julia, I need you to arrange something.”
“Of course, Miss Ashworth. What can I do for you?”
“I need a selection of premium cultivation herbs,” Isabelle said, tapping her manicured nails against the leather seat. “The highest quality available. Have them delivered to an address I’ll text you.”
“May I ask who they’re for?” Julia’s voice was professional but tinged with curiosity.
“That’s not important,” Isabelle replied firmly. “Just make sure they’re delivered today. And Julia? Make sure there’s no indication they came from me.”
“Understood, Miss Ashworth. Will there be anything else?”
“No, that’s all.” Isabelle ended the call and gazed out the window again, watching the city blur past.
She knew she shouldn’t get involved with Liam Knight. Her family would never approve—especially her uncle Corbin, who was always looking for ways to control her. But there was something about Liam that drew her in. Behind his guarded exterior, she sensed a strength waiting to be unleashed. And she’d always had a weakness for underdogs with hidden potential.
—
The Johnson family home buzzed with excitement as the maid announced the arrival of the Sterling family. Beatrice Sterling swept in first, her designer outfit screaming old money, followed closely by her daughter Seraphina—my ex-wife—and her new fiancé, Gideon Blackwood.
“Beatrice, darling!” Mrs. Johnson exclaimed, air-kissing her cheeks. “And Seraphina, you look stunning as always.”
Gideon stood tall beside Seraphina, his posture projecting confidence and superiority. With his perfectly tailored suit and arrogant smile, he was everything I wasn’t.
“I hope we’re not late,” Beatrice said, handing her coat to a waiting servant.
“Not at all,” Mr. Johnson assured her. “We were just discussing the upcoming Ashworth family banquet. Only the elite of Havenwood City have been invited.”
The room quieted at the mention of the Ashworth name. Even in Havenwood, the Ashworth family from Veridia City carried immense weight.
“Speaking of which,” Gideon said, reaching into his suit pocket with a smug smile, “I have something to share.”
He pulled out an elegant envelope with gold embossing and held it high enough for everyone to see. “The Ashworth family has personally invited me to their annual banquet.”
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I took it hesitantly, surprised by its weight. “I didn’t order anything.”
“It’s a delivery,” she said flatly. “I was instructed to ensure it reached you personally.”
Opening the package, I gasped. Inside were herbs—not just any herbs, but premium cultivation ingredients that would have cost me months of savings. Red ginseng roots that glowed with vital energy, spirit mushrooms still dusted with mystical soil, jade lotus leaves so fresh they seemed to pulse with life.
“Who sent this?” I asked, stunned by the generous gift.
The woman’s lip curled slightly. “My employer.”
“And who is your employer?”
“Miss Isabelle Ashworth.”
I nearly dropped the package. So this was Julia, Isabelle’s secretary.
“Please thank her for me,” I said, genuinely moved by her kindness. “These will help me tremendously.”
Julia’s professional mask slipped, revealing contempt beneath. “Mr. Knight, let me be clear. Miss Ashworth has inexplicably taken an interest in you. Why, I cannot fathom.”
Her sudden hostility caught me off guard. “I—”
“Do you even know who she is?” Julia continued, her voice low and cutting. “She’s not just any wealthy woman. She’s Isabelle Ashworth, the princess of the Veridia City Ashworth family! She’s the family’s jewel! She’s Mr. Ashworth’s favorite granddaughter!”
Each sentence felt like a slap. I stood frozen, clutching the herbs that now felt like burning coals in my hands.
Julia leaned closer, her eyes narrowed. “What makes you think you have the right to approach her!”
Her words echoed in the narrow hallway, hammering home a brutal truth: whatever connection I thought existed between Isabelle and me was a fantasy. She wasn’t just out of my league—we weren’t even playing the same game.
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