Lucas had never hated someone the way he hated that man in that moment. Not for anything he’d done, yet, but for the place he now occupied. The place Lucas had once taken for granted.The space next to Vera.The space meant for someone who saw her.Chose her.Fought for her.And Lucas hadn’t done any of those things when it had mattered.He closed his eyes, tilting his head back against the headrest. Regret was a bitter thing. It didn’t burn like anger or freeze like grief. It sat low and heavy in the gut, reminding you of every second you thought you had more time.“I was a coward,” he muttered to himself, the words foreign on his tongue, but true.He had chosen Camilla. Chosen safety. Image. Legacy. The things his father valued.The things that came with weighty expectations and carefully constructed futures. But none of it had felt real.Not like Vera.Vera, who could laugh even when the world tried to break her.Vera, who always stood her ground, even when it trembled beneath her.
Lucas stared blankly ahead, knuckles tightening on the wheel again.That was the thing with Camilla, she never needed to shout to cut deep. Her weapon was power. Influence. Access. And she wielded it with the precision of someone born with a silver dagger in her hand.He had once admired her for it.Now, he felt like he was choking on it.“You don’t have to remind me,” he said quietly.“Good. Because I don’t want a broken engagement scandal when the Langfords are already having a meltdown over Asher Donovan picking your ex girlfriend over their spoiled daughter.”Lucas couldn’t help the bitter smile tugging at his lips. “So you’re more upset about optics than the fact I was with someone else?”“I’m upset that you’re not playing your part,” Camilla snapped. “You know what’s expected of us. You agreed. You don’t get to grow a conscience now, Lucas. Not when it’s too late.”Too late.The words echoed in his head, matching the hollow feeling in his chest.He didn’t reply.There was no poi
Morning arrived slowly.The soft golden rays of sunlight crept between the curtains, casting delicate shadows across the bedroom.Everything was still, quiet, gentle, wrapped in the afterglow of a night that had shifted something unspoken between them.Asher stirred first.His lashes fluttered as consciousness slowly returned, and his body instinctively curled tighter into the warmth beside him.It wasn’t a dream. Vera was still there. Her back rested against his chest, and their legs remained tangled under the sheets.Her hair smelled faintly of vanilla and lavender, and her soft breathing created a rhythm that soothed the last remnants of sleep from his mind.He didn’t want to move.Didn’t want to risk waking her.So instead, he just lay there, letting his thumb lazily draw circles along her hip beneath the blanket, marveling quietly at how natural this all felt.Like this was always meant to happen.Like they hadn’t started as strangers forced into something they didn’t choose.Lik
Is it true he was seen with another woman at the last event?Is Asher Donovan done with the Langfords?The questions floated through the air like smoke, and Sarah, no longer able to keep her composure, excused herself from the group she was pretending to laugh with.She stormed down one of the private hallways of the Alden estate, her heels clicking furiously on marble.Pulling out her phone, she dialed Asher again.Voicemail.Just like the other six times.“Damn you, Asher,” she hissed, her voice low but seething.She didn’t leave a message. He didn’t deserve one. Not after this public humiliation.Not after everything she’d done to claw her way back into his life.She had suffered, endured whispers and pity, and swallowed her pride after that disastrous night at the previous banquet, when he’d shown up with her. That little nobody. Vera.And now he skipped this?He hadn’t even sent a message, not even a fabricated excuse.Sarah leaned against the cool wall, breathing hard as her min
Asher now sat on the edge of the bed, freshly showered and sipping from the mug of coffee he’d made earlier.Vera had just stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel and towel drying her hair, when she paused and looked at him, really looked at him.There was a shift between them now. A softness. An unspoken understanding.“I need to tell you something,” she said gently, her voice steady despite the hesitation that lingered in her eyes.Asher raised an eyebrow, setting his mug down and patting the space beside him. “I’m listening.”She padded over and sat down beside him, still warm from the shower.She looked down at her fingers for a moment before glancing up to meet his gaze.“You remember when I disappeared on you for a bit… when I didn’t open the door?”Asher nodded slowly, his expression unreadable.Vera exhaled. “That morning, I got a call. From someone named Eliza Renner.”“The name doesn’t ring a bell,” Asher said, tilting his head.“She’s the personal assistant to Elena
The drive to the mall was smoother than Vera expected, but she still kept shooting sideways glances at Asher as he hummed quietly behind the wheel, one hand lazily on the steering while the other drummed rhythmically on his thigh.He looked far too relaxed for someone headed to a business meeting.“You’re humming,” she finally said, breaking the silence.“I do that when I’m in a good mood,” he replied easily, flicking on his indicator as he turned into the underground parking lot of one of the most luxurious shopping centers in the city.She raised an eyebrow. “You were humming last night too. When we were cooking.”“I was humming because I wasn’t thinking about anything else except being there with you,” he said, cutting the engine with a grin.Vera blinked. He just said that like it was nothing, like it didn’t make her insides do that fluttering thing she hated to admit to.Asher stepped out of the car and came around to open her door before she could reach for the handle. “Come on.
A man sitting at the outdoor lounge just beside the club's check in area lowered his sunglasses, eyes narrowing in recognition.Greg Mason, a freelance entertainment and social columnist for one of the top society blogs, had been nursing a dry latte and scrolling through boring tip offs when they arrived.He wasn’t even on duty. He was just here for a round of mid morning gossip and to maybe eavesdrop on a business deal or two. But the moment his camera lens caught the striking image of Asher Donovan walking hand in hand with an unknown but undeniably stunning woman who didn’t scream “old money,” he knew he’d hit gold.He angled his phone discreetly, fingers quick and practiced as he snapped a few high res shots of them walking across the paved path toward the clubhouse.No PDA. No kiss.But the body language?Intimate. Familiar. Exclusive.The Asher Donovan, smiling for real. In public. With a woman who wasn’t Sarah Langford.Greg whistled to himself.He’d just scored the story of th
The morning sun had risen higher now, casting a golden haze over the range, making the dew on the grass shimmer like tiny diamonds.Vera, slightly breathless and with a faint sheen of sweat across her forehead, finally straightened her back after another decent swing.“Okay,” she huffed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I can officially say I’m not terrible anymore.”“You’re officially above amateur level,” Asher said, pulling a bottle of chilled water from the nearby cooler and handing it to her. “You could probably win a charity round. I’ll even let you beat me next time.”Vera took the bottle, her fingers brushing his. “You’d let me?”He shrugged with a playful smirk. “Depends on what I get in return.”She narrowed her eyes. “You're dangerously close to earning a golf ball to the knee.”He chuckled and sank into the bench by the edge of the practice range, stretching out his legs like he belonged to the earth. Vera joined him, still catching her breath, wiping her pa
They moved together like a slow burning fire, building, rising, until the world around them disappeared completely. The only thing left was this: his mouth on her skin, her whispered pleas, the sound of their names breathed into the dark like prayers.When Vera shattered beneath him, Asher followed her, losing himself so completely that for a moment, there was nothing left of the man he’d been before her.Only them.Only this.He held her through it, their bodies tangled, his heart pounding against hers as the aftershocks shuddered through them both. Neither of them spoke. They didn’t need to. Every touch, every look said enough.Finally, when the world started to drift back in, the faint hum of the city beyond the windows, the cool air brushing over sweat slicked skin, Asher shifted just enough to pull the covers over them, tucking her against his chest.Vera’s head rested in the crook of his neck, her breathing soft and even. But she wasn’t asleep.He could feel it, the way her fing
Asher groaned under his breath, one hand tightening around her waist. “You don’t fight fair.”“And you love it,” she whispered, leaning forward to brush her nose against his.He tilted his head, eyes locked with hers. “You’re dangerous like this.”“I know,” she smiled, brushing her lips over his, just barely, a tease that made his grip falter.“I mean it,” he said, voice low and thick. “You don’t know what you do to me.”“Maybe I do,” she breathed, eyes hooded, lips parting just enough..And then she yawned.Long. Loud. Incredibly unsexy.Asher blinked. Vera blinked too, like she didn’t believe it happened.“…Okay,” she said, half laughing, half embarrassed. “Maybe I am drunk.”Asher laughed, pulling her close against his chest and kissing the top of her head. “Yeah. You are.”She curled up in his arms, letting out a soft sigh. “Still serious though… you’re mine.”He looked down at her, her eyes fluttering shut, her lips curved in a sleepy smile.“Yeah,” he murmured. “I’m yours.”Vera
They sat down at the kitchen island instead of the formal dining area, something casual and intimate.The late afternoon sun streamed through the wide floor to ceiling windows, casting a golden hue across the space.Vera moved quietly, still lost in the storm of emotions she’d bottled up since overhearing the conversation.Asher pulled out her chair before taking his own, clearly noticing the shift in her demeanor but choosing not to push, at least not yet.“Wow,” he murmured, looking at the spread she’d laid out. “You really went all out.”“I figured I’d cook for you this time,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’ve been practically feeding me for weeks.”Asher chuckled, his eyes twinkling. “Well, I’ve just been ordering the food. You actually made it. So you win.”Vera offered a shy smile, finally taking her seat.There was freshly made penne in a creamy garlic parmesan sauce, oven roasted vegetables tossed in olive oil and herbs, and warm slices of sourdough wi
“Did I hire a chef while I wasn’t looking?” he asked, arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe.Vera turned around, stirring spoon still in hand. “If you did, she’s underpaid.”Asher chuckled, stepping closer. “I didn’t even know I had real food in here. I thought my assistant just stocked it for display.”“Well, it’s not just for display anymore.” She tilted her head with a teasing smile. “I’m officially christening your kitchen.”“You look good in here,” he said simply, his eyes warm.She blinked. “In the kitchen?”“In my space.”Her breath caught.There was something about the way he said my space that made her feel like he wasn’t just talking about his home. He was talking about his life. About her fitting into it. Being part of it.She turned back to stir the pasta, hiding the smile tugging at her lips. “Well, lucky for you, I plan on feeding you while I’m here.”Asher moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, chin resting on her shoulder. “Mmm, dangerous off
The sleek elevator glided to a smooth stop, its polished chrome doors parting with a soft chime. Vera stepped out first, her boots clicking gently against the glossy marble floor as she followed Asher into his penthouse for the very first time.The moment she entered, her breath caught in her throat.She’d seen wealth before. Been surrounded by it ever since the day her real parents found her. She’d attended banquets, stayed in mansions, worn designer clothes and diamonds that would make the average girl gasp.But this?This was different.This was Asher.Floor to ceiling windows stretched across the entire length of the living room, giving way to an endless view of the city skyline.It was breathtaking, sharp lines of glass towers glittering under the afternoon sun, with a soft haze hanging like a silk veil over the city.The walls were done in deep, warm tones, matte blacks and earthy taupes, softened by scattered art pieces and shelves lined with books. Not cold, not sterile like m
Meanwhile…Vera’s Apartment, Late AfternoonAsher sat on the couch in sweatpants and a fitted black tee, Vera’s head resting on his lap while her fingers lazily played with his.A half eaten box of Chinese takeout was perched on the coffee table, and the hum of a soft playlist filled the room.“Don’t you have somewhere important to be?” Vera asked, teasing, eyes closed as she nuzzled into the fabric of his shirt.Asher smirked, brushing her hair back from her face. “I am somewhere important.”She opened one eye, giving him a playful look. “That sounds dangerously close to cheesy.”“It was cheesy,” he admitted, grinning. “But also true.”She smiled, but he could see the worry creeping into her eyes, faint, but there. “I’m not… ruining things for you, am I?”His fingers stilled.He tilted her chin up so she was looking at him. “Vera, the only thing you’re ruining is my ability to focus on anything that’s not you.”She snorted, but her cheeks pinked.“I mean it,” he added, voice soft. “Y
Donovan Estate, Morning Conference RoomThe large oak doors slammed shut, rattling the glass paneling in their frames as Richard Donovan threw the morning newspaper down onto the polished table.The headline was bold, brash, and unforgiving.“Heir Apparent or Scandal Magnet? Asher Donovan’s Wild Romp With Mystery Girl Continues!”The full page spread showed high quality photos from the golf course, Vera in Asher’s arms on the dance floor, and a slightly blurry, but no less damning, shot of the two of them kissing under neon lights at the club.“We’re a goddamn joke!” Richard barked, his hand slamming down on the wood. “Is this what he thinks representing this family looks like?! Playing house with some girl who showed up out of nowhere and parading around town like a celebrity?!”Across the table, Evelyn Donovan sat, her lips pursed tightly as she stared at the photo with icy silence.Dressed immaculately in a cream silk blouse and pearls, she looked calm. But the grip she had on her
Asher walked over without a word, sitting beside her.His hand gently found hers.“Was that about… your mother?” he asked softly.She nodded, her voice nearly a whisper. “She’s dying.”Asher’s jaw clenched, but not out of anger, out of restraint. He was careful not to push, to let her speak at her own pace.“Her assistant. Eliza Renner. Said she was on her deathbed and asking for me,” Vera murmured, voice trembling. “I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t even know how to feel. These people gave me away, and now they want me to just… show up at her bedside like nothing happened?”She looked up at him, her eyes glassy. “I just… I don’t want to open that door unless I’m ready. And I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.”“I get it,” he said, and then he chuckled softly, surprising her.“What?” she asked, frowning.“I just remembered something,” he said, shaking his head. “The Sterling family… they’re not exactly known for their timing. Or sincerity.”Vera’s eyes narrowed slightly.“Let’s just s
Back in the living room, Asher sat at Vera’s small dining table, his laptop open, eyes fixed on a presentation slide he’d been tweaking for the past twenty minutes.It wasn’t that it needed adjusting, he just needed something to do with his hands, something to anchor him as the world around them buzzed with chaos.His phone buzzed again on the table beside him, lighting up for the third time in under five minutes.Sarah Langford.The name flashed in bold, her contact photo, an old professional shot, looking more and more like a ghost from a different life. Asher watched it ring, expression unreadable, jaw ticking slightly.He didn’t answer.Instead, he picked up his coffee mug, took a sip, and returned to reviewing the same bullet point he’d already reread too many times.The phone rang again.Sarah Langford.Again.He reached out this time, not to answer, but to mute the call, dragging the volume bar all the way down before tossing the device back onto the table with a careless flick