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
Click.They didn’t hear it.Didn’t see the shadow of the man a few tables away. A casual guest to the club, well dressed, sunglasses low on his nose. His phone angled perfectly, capturing the exact moment Asher Donovan, heir to the Donovan empire, gently cradled a laughing Vera's face and looked at her like she was made of stardust and soft edges.It was subtle. Sweet. But unmistakably intimate.Back at their table, Vera pulled away slightly, cheeks flushed. “We should probably go freshen up. You have a meeting to dazzle some powerful men with, Mr. Donovan.”Asher stood and offered his hand. “Only if you keep dazzling me.”She raised a brow, laughing again as she took his hand. “Corny. So corny.”He winked. “You love it.”Together, they stepped away from the table, walking down the polished hall lined with changing rooms.Their hands brushed again, just a little. Then Vera laced her fingers through his without thinking.And he didn’t let go.They disappeared around the corner, complet
Draped in designer labels like armor, Camilla walked with her head held high, her platinum hair pulled into a sleek bun, and her sunglasses resting just below her eyes to show the pointed expression beneath.On her arm, she dragged Lucas like an accessory, but his eyes were anything but indifferent.The moment he saw Vera sitting beside Asher, relaxed, laughing even, something flickered in his gaze. Anguish. Regret. And then bitterness.He stopped walking.Camilla didn’t.She tugged him forward, her grip on his arm tight and cold.Leaning toward him ever so slightly, she murmured beneath her breath, “Don’t even think about it. One wrong move, and we lose this deal. Control yourself.”Lucas didn’t respond immediately. His throat bobbed as he swallowed whatever storm threatened to rise within him, then he straightened his posture and moved forward, a carefully constructed smile plastered onto his face.Mr. Grayson’s own features had gone unreadable, though the faint twitch of amusement
The first few swings passed with ease.Asher was as precise as ever, clean strokes, silent focus, an air of relaxed confidence that somehow felt more intimidating than bravado.Vera, nervous at first, missed her mark on the first swing but laughed it off, and on her second, hit a modest but decent stroke that made even Mr. Grayson nod in approval.“Well done,” the older man said, surprising her.Lucas watched the small celebration between her and Asher, something aching in his chest. That used to be him beside her, laughing, brushing her hair out of her eyes. Now she barely looked at him.Camilla, however, took every opportunity to deliver backhanded compliments.“Oh, look at that,” she cooed when Vera’s ball veered slightly off the green. “Close, but not quite there. These things take time. Coordination isn’t exactly something you can learn overnight.”Asher didn’t even flinch. “She did better on her first day than you did after two years, Camilla,” he said flatly, not even looking i
Camilla wasn’t as gracious. She tilted her head, her smile hardening into a polite grimace. “Well,” she said through clenched teeth, “I suppose some people find charm in theatrics and… emotion.”Mr. Grayson raised an eyebrow. “Do you mean integrity?”She blinked. “Of course not. Just… passion doesn’t always equate to experience.”“True,” Mr. Grayson nodded. “But cold ambition rarely inspires trust.”Camilla’s nostrils flared. “Naturally. But I hope you know that when that emotion fades, business requires consistency. Ruthlessness, even.”Vera tilted her head. “And I suppose you think ruthlessness is better than sincerity?”Camilla’s eyes snapped to her. “I think it’s more reliable.”“I think you’ve been chasing the wrong kind of power,” Vera said softly.Before Camilla could bite back, Mr. Grayson stood, ending the conversation with finality. “I’ll have my team reach out by tomorrow. This was enlightening.”With that, he extended his hand to Asher, then, surprisingly, to Vera.She ros
Camilla Alden slammed the car door shut with a force that echoed through the otherwise serene golf course parking lot.Her heels clicked furiously against the asphalt as she circled the car, ripping off her gloves like they were to blame for the monumental loss they’d just suffered.Lucas followed quietly behind her, jaw tight, hands shoved in his pockets, looking every bit like a man being led to the gallows.Inside the car, the silence was thick for about five seconds, then she exploded.“You’re a good for nothing, weak excuse of a man!” Camilla screamed, jabbing a manicured finger at him as her voice echoed off the leather seats. “How dare you stand there like a statue while Vera Sinclair paraded around in front of us like she owned the damn world?”Lucas didn’t respond. He simply turned his face toward the window, the tension in his jaw the only sign that her words were cutting through.“You couldn’t even keep your eyes off her! You think Mr. Grayson didn’t notice? You think I did
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
It was surreal.This man, this sharp, untouchable heir, sitting on her worn couch, working like he belonged there. Like he’d done it a hundred times.And then she saw the tray on the coffee table.Two plates. Toast. Scrambled eggs. A small bowl of fruit. And, was that...?“Did you… make lunch?” she croaked.Asher looked up instantly, his face softening as his eyes landed on her. “Hey,” he said, setting his laptop aside. “You’re awake. How do you feel?”“Like a blender exploded inside my skull,” she muttered, rubbing her temples. “Wait. You cooked?”He chuckled. “Don’t sound so surprised. I’m not completely useless.”She wandered closer, cautiously sitting beside him. “Wow. My kitchen must be traumatized.”“I think I won it over,” he said with mock pride, pushing the plate toward her. “Eat. You’ll feel better.”She looked at the food, touched beyond words, then slowly met his eyes. “You stayed…”“Of course,” he replied, more serious now. “You think I’d just leave you after last night?
Lucas stared at his phone, the screen now black after the call abruptly ended.His fingers tightened around the device until his knuckles went white, his jaw clenched so hard it hurt."Asher," he spat the name like venom, as if it had a bitter taste on his tongue. The anger burned through him like wildfire, raw and scorching.He had poured his heart into that voicemail, pleaded, apologized, laid everything bare. And it hadn’t even reached Vera.No. It had reached him.Asher Donovan.Of all people."Son of a bitch," Lucas growled, slamming the phone against the counch so hard it bounced back with a dull thud. His chest rose and fell quickly as his breaths came out sharp and fast.He could still hear Asher’s voice, cool and calculated, playing back in his head like a taunt.You had your chance. And you threw it away.The words echoed louder than they should have. Because they were true.He had made his choice. And it had been the wrong one.Now Vera was in Asher’s bed. In his life. Mayb