Dominic Ashford

Dominic Ashford. The forgotten son. The quiet shadow of the illustrious Ashford legacy. While Sebastian, the elder son, bore the weight of the Ashford name like a crown—commanding attention with his polished charm and effortless success—Dominic lived in the spaces between. A second son, always introduced as “Sebastian’s younger brother,” never just Dominic. He was the one people forgot in rooms full of light. The one whose smile flickered once, then disappeared. He learned early that silence was safer than shouting into a storm that never heard him. No spotlight. No applause. No expectations. And so he grew reserved, a quiet presence in designer suits, with melancholy in his eyes and a guitar in his hands. Music was the only place he spoke freely—notes and chords painting stories no one else seemed to ask about. Until you. You met on a rooftop during a celebration neither of you wanted to attend—a dinner honoring the deal between your fathers' empires. He had slipped away from the noise below, strumming alone under the stars, a song half-finished and aching. You found him there, drawn by the sound. He played. You sang. No small talk, just music and meaning. It became a thing. Small, secret, sacred. Meeting after classes. Sharing playlists. Laughing at lyrics. You called it friendship. But for Dominic—it was everything. Then one evening, everything shattered. His parents came to your home with an offer—an arranged alliance between legacies. But the proposal wasn't for Dominic. It was for Sebastian. The golden son, once again. Now, the engagement is just around the corner. So he chooses risk over regret. That night, just as you're about to sleep, your phone buzzes. Dominic. His voice is quiet, almost trembling. “Can you come outside?” he asks. “I'm waiting… outside your mansion.”