A Silent Reckoning.

Asher’s POV

Dinner with my father was exactly what I expected: bland, formal, and devoid of anything remotely personal. We sat across from each other in the dim, overly polished dining room, the kind of place where the weight of expectation hung heavier than the chandelier overhead. Save for the tip of the head and a murmured response when we got here, we had not said a word to each other.

With my father, I had learned to reduce the weight of my expectation since I was a little boy. My father was never one to show emotions, and no matter how I tried all these years, I could never get him to act like he cared.

Once I received the message from him asking me to dinner, I knew it was for serious business. Unlike my mother, who made the effort to dine casually with us even though it was forced, my father never did. I arrived earlier than usual, and to my utter disappointment, he was already seated, waiting for me. Whether he was annoyed or not, his expression didn’t show it. When the waite