Chapter 17
Asher
My mind is entirely blank. It feels like the world has stopped entirely in this moment.
The city outside my office still exists, and people and cars are still moving busily. Somewhere below, Manhattan continues spinning exactly as it did five seconds ago. Yet all I can hear is Roxanne's voice.
“I'm pregnant.”
The words settle into my heart like a grenade.
Roxanne is seated close atop me on the couch, her hair tangled across my arm and body still warm from mine. Just minutes ago, she’d been moaning softly against my throat while I held her. Just minutes ago, everything had felt simple.
Now nothing feels simple. My entire body goes rigid. Slowly, she lifts her head. The small smile on her face falters immediately.
“Asher?”
Something ugly begins to crawl through my chest. It isn’t fear, but rather recognition. Because now I finally see it.
All of it.
The seduction, the timing, the act of vulnerability, and, most importantly, her debt. Now, a pregnancy out of nowhere.
My stomach twists violently.
Of course. What was I thinking?
I knew the kind of woman she is, yet I expected something different from her. My mother had done it. Tristan's mother had done it. Women have been using children to secure their futures around the Sterling family for generations.
And somehow I'd convinced myself Roxanne Sinclair would be different, despite knowing just who she is.
I let out a bitter laugh, rubbing my hand over my face. The sound is humorless and cold.
Roxanne’s brows pull together as she eases off my legs. “What?”
I pull away from her completely. The movement creates an immediate distance between us. The warmth disappears, so does the softness.
I stand and pull my pants back on. I drag a hand through my hair.
“How?” I ask the one question I can in that moment.
The single word lands harder than I intend.
Roxanne slowly sits up, wrapping her shirt around her body. Confusion flickers across her face, and I almost believe that this isn’t all part of her scheme. She’s an even better actress than any of the women I’ve had to deal with.
“What do you mean by how?” She snaps.
My jaw tightens. “You said you were on the pill.”
The room falls silent. I frown, waiting for her to refute me and make this situation make sense.
For several seconds, she simply stares at me. Something akin to realization dawns in her eyes, followed by a sharp flash of hurt.
Why would she be hurt? I’m the one she’s trying to cunningly weave into her scheme. This is a tale as old as time, yet she thinks she can get me with it.
“I was.”
I laugh again. The sound is sharper this time. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” Her expression hardens.
I turn away before I can stop myself. Every old fear I've spent years carrying is clawing its way back to the surface. Every warning and story I swore to abide by.
My father had trusted women; look where that got him. The family he so wanted didn’t survive, and the business would have crumpled if I hadn’t stepped in.
I used to think I was the sensible one. The one who wouldn’t fall prey to a scheming woman. I even considered myself better than Tristan since he got engaged to Roxanne, whose intentions I could see.
Yet, look at me now. I’m the one she’s claiming got her pregnant. I should have known how this was going to end when she told me she was on the pills that day.
Why did I take her word for it?
“You expect me to believe that?” I ask.
Roxanne rises slowly from the couch. Her face has gone pale, and for some reason, that drives me crazy.
“The doctor said it happens sometimes,” she argues.
I close my eyes, rubbing my temple as I pace about.
The explanation sounds reasonable. Which somehow makes it worse. Because part of me wants to believe her. And I don't know if that's because she's telling the truth or because I'm becoming weak where she's concerned.
When I finally look at her again, I find her watching me carefully, waiting for me to say something. The sight only fuels my anger.
“No.”
Her jaw tightens. “No?”
“I don’t believe you.” The words echo through the office. “You knew this was going to happen. You made it happen.”
For a second, she doesn't react. She simply stares at me, then her face changes as rage consumes her.
“What?” The word comes out dangerously quiet from her.
“You heard me.”
I shouldn't keep talking. I know that. Every instinct I possess tells me to stop. Instead, I keep going. Because fear has always been better at speaking than reason.
“You're in debt. So I get why you’d think this was a smart move.”
Her eyes widen. “You think I planned this.”
“It makes sense. You needed some form of security.”
Something fractures in her expression, and watching it almost drives me wild with anger because it makes me want to comfort her. However, I come back to my senses before I do something stupid.
“You definitely thought trapping me with a baby would get you out of whatever situation you’re in, but you’re wrong,” I snap.
Roxanne laughs. The sound is hollow. “You honestly think I got pregnant on purpose?”
“What else am I supposed to think?”
Her stare sharpens. “Maybe accidents happen?”
“Accident.” I scoff.
The only accident here is that I lost my senses in that one moment. If I’d been in better control, I wouldn’t have forgotten to use protection. No, I wouldn’t even have ever kissed her, not to mention having sex with her.
How did she do it? How did she manage to make me lose my mind that way?
Roxanne buttons her shirt with shaky hands, then folds her arms tightly across her chest. It's almost like she's trying to hold herself together.
For a moment, I almost fell for the vulnerable act again.
“Why would I want this, Asher?” Her voice is shaky as she asks.
I don't answer immediately. The truth sounds ugly even inside my own head, but eventually I say it anyway.
“Because a child ties you to me forever.”
The silence afterward is devastating. I watch the color drain from her face. Watch understanding settle into her eyes.
“You really believe that,” she says softly.
I dart my eyes away from her bewitching look once. Deep down, I fear she’d be able to bring me down to my knees if I get lost in those eyes of hers any longer.
“You want honesty?” I ask.
“I think we're past honesty.”
The words strike harder than they should. Something inside my chest twists. Still, I press forward. Because stopping now would mean admitting I might be wrong.
And if I'm wrong, then I've just destroyed something precious for nothing but my own fears. The possibility terrifies me. So I choose anger instead.
“You should get rid of it,” I deadpan.
The second the words leave my mouth, I wish I could grab them back. But it's too late.
Roxanne goes completely still, and the office suddenly feels cold.
“What?” The whisper barely reaches me.
I swallow hard. “I won't bring another child into this world just to be used by the very person who should love it.”
I look at her then. Her lips quiver as tears gather at the corner of her eyes. My chest tightens with pain as I stagger back momentarily.
Why do I feel this way?
“I would never use my child,” she says firmly.
I tighten my hands. For the first time since I've known her, Roxanne Sinclair looks genuinely broken. And somehow that hurts more than it should.
“I would never do that,” she says again, this time her voice breaks halfway through. She sniffles and blinks back the tears in her eyes.
Something inside me wavers. For one dangerous second, I almost believe her. Then years of distrust slam back into place. I remember just how broken and hurt my mom used to look whenever she came to find us then.
At first, I used to hate my dad because I believed he was being mean to my Mom. I always wanted to leave with my mom, but every time she got the money she wanted, she’d disappear without a word.
I even deluded myself into believing she didn’t have a choice, and one time ran away from home to find her. It wasn’t when I saw that she was the mistress of another billionaire, and she denied knowing who I was, that I realized the truth.
Yet she shamelessly came back for more money, pretending to care again with tears I’d have fallen for in the past.
So I know how much people pretend to feel emotions they don’t. I shouldn’t let Roxanne Sinclair’s fake tears move me.
She shakes her head slowly. “I should've known.”
The words are quietly spoken. And I hate how much they affect me.
“I should've never expected anything from you.”
The sentence gnaws at me coldly. Roxanne stands up and dresses hurriedly.
I take a step forward instinctively. “Roxanne.”
“Please don’t. You’ve said enough.”
Her eyes meet mine. They're full of tears, but somehow they're colder than I've ever seen them.
“I don't want your money. I don't want your approval,” she says flatly as she heads toward the door. “And I definitely don't want your pity.”
Then she leaves.
The office door closes behind her. And for the first time in years, my office feels unbearably empty. I crumple into the couch, holding my head as the conversation replays in my mind.
The thought of going home doesn’t even occur to me as I analyze every word and expression. The more I think about it, the worse I feel.
Roxanne hadn't looked triumphant or manipulative in that moment. And she definitely hadn't looked like someone securing a future. She'd looked terrified and hurt.
She clearly wasn’t lying about being pregnant. It’d explain why she has been out of it lately.
Fucking hell!
I should have approached this matter another way. At the end of the day, that baby is mine. My child. Regardless of what I think of the mother, I shouldn’t have said something so hurtful.
This keeps on eating at me, and by six in the morning, I find myself standing outside her apartment.
The hallway is silent as I knock. I pray fervently that her cheery neighbor doesn’t find me this way because it would make things quite awkward.
There’s no answer, so I knock again. It is not until the third time that the door finally opens. Roxanne appears.
The second she sees me, her face hardens, and she immediately begins closing the door. I shove my hand against it before it can shut.
“Roxanne.”
“Please, no.”
“We need to talk,” I rush out, placing myself strategically between the door.
“We really don't have to.”
The bitterness in her voice slices through me. I push the door open enough to step inside. Roxanne’s shoulders sag as she steps away from me.
She looks exhausted. Her eyes are swollen, like she cried herself to sleep. This makes me feel even worse than I already do.
“I gave it some thought.”
She laughs. “Congratulations.”
I ignore her sarcasm and step closer to her. Roxanne gives me a warning look as she moves further away from me.
“You can keep the baby.”
Her expression doesn't change. If anything, it becomes colder.
“Oh, how generous,” she says bitterly.
I push forward anyway. This solution made sense at three in the morning. It should still make sense now.
“You keep the pregnancy,” I say quietly, picking my words carefully. “Then, when the child is born, I take custody.”
Her eyes sharpen. “What?”
“I’ll compensate you for the trouble, while I raise the baby,” I add quickly, so she sees the benefit. The words sound reasonable to me. It should be the same for her. “You'll never have to worry about money again.”
Something dangerous enters her expression as the room goes completely silent. Roxanne blinks once, her mouth hanging open as she scrutinizes my face. Then she starts laughing.
The bitter sound sends unease crawling through my stomach.
“You'll compensate me?” She blurts.
I nod. “It's the best solution.”
“The best solution!” Her voice rises. “You think I'm going to sell my child to you?”
“That's not what I?—”
“Then what exactly are you saying?”
I struggle to answer. Stripped down to its bones, that's exactly what it sounds like.
Of all the ways I expected her to react, this wasn’t one of them. Is she trying to pretend it’s not money she wants, just to get me to lower my guard?
Roxanne steps closer, her eyes shining with fury. “You think so little of me.”
The accusation pierces my heart. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
Roxanne points toward the door angrily. “Get out.”
“Roxanne.”
“Get. Out.”
Her voice cracks, and that crumbles my defensive walls. I remain frozen, watching her as she takes another step forward. I’ve never seen Roxanne look so angry before.
“If you don't leave right now, I swear I'll make you.”
I stare at her. The woman carrying my child. The one woman I can't stop thinking about. The woman I somehow keep hurting. I think about every possible thing to do at that moment, but her expression tells me there’s only one right answer.
So, I leave.
The door slams hard behind me. Standing alone in the hallway, I realize something that should have been obvious from the beginning. I no longer know whether I'm protecting myself from Roxanne Sinclair. Or protecting myself from the possibility that she's been telling the truth all along.