Chapter 13 #2
The man who emerges from behind a mahogany bar could be Asher in thirty years.
He has the same steel-gray eyes, same commanding presence, but he's missing Asher's head of chestnut hair, and there are deeper lines carved into his features.
Leonard Caine moves like a predator who's never doubted his place at the top of the food chain.
I wonder what it would be like to hold that level of confidence inside me.
"Father." Asher's voice sounds tight, his shoulders turning rigid, like the presence of his father puts him on edge. "This is my fiancée, Grace Morgan."
Leonard's gaze travels over me slowly, eyes cataloging every detail with the precision of a hunter sizing up prey.
"So this is the young lady who's captured my son's attention." His voice carries authority.
"Mr. Caine." I force myself to meet his gaze. "It’s so nice to meet you. Thank you for having me."
"Please, call me Leonard." His smile doesn't reach his eyes as he shakes my hand. "After all, you're going to be part of the family."
That sounds like a threat coming from him. Beside me, Asher's posture shifts almost imperceptibly, straighter, more guarded.
"Dinner’s ready," Celeste announces, breaking me out of this not-so pleasant introduction.
Once more, Asher squeezes my hand reassuringly as we follow his mother into a dining room that belongs in Versailles.
The table could seat twenty, but tonight, it's set for seven, with china so delicate I'm afraid to breathe on it. Crystal glasses catch the light from another chandelier, and silverware gleams like weapons arranged for battle.
Leonard sits at the head of the table, Celeste to his right and Asher to his left. Across from me sits a blonde miniature of Celeste next to a brown-haired man in a fitted suit.
"I'm Dove." Mini Celeste gives me a smile that's perfectly practiced. "Asher's sister."
I smile right back. "Nice to meet you."
"And this is my fiancé, Preston." She gestures to the man beside her, who nods politely.
"Now let me see this ring." Dove's eyes immediately zero in on my left hand. "Come on, don't be shy."
I reluctantly extend my hand across the table. Dove takes it gently, tilting my finger to catch the light. The diamond throws rainbows across the white tablecloth.
"Oh my God." Her eyebrows shoot up as she examines the ring. "Asher, this is gorgeous. You actually have taste."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Asher replies dryly.
"No, seriously." Dove releases my hand but keeps staring at the ring. "I was expecting something boring and traditional. This is actually stunning. Where did you find it?"
"I had it made," Asher answers simply, shocking me. Why would he have a custom ring made for his fake fiancée? I recall back to the engagement photos when he told me the size of this ring was a direct correlation to how much he loves me, and clearly by the way his sister studies it, she’s trying to figure out how much that is.
"Well, Grace is a lucky girl." Dove settles back in her chair with an approving nod. "Welcome to the family."
"Tell me about yourself, Grace," Celeste asks as the staff places salads in front of us, not wasting a second. "Where did you grow up?"
"Cedar Falls, Michigan." I take a careful sip of wine. "My family owns a Christmas tree farm."
"How quaint." Celeste's smile could freeze Hell. "And your education?"
"NYU. Journalism with a minor in creative writing."
"Ah, a writer." Leonard's eyes glitter with something I don't like. "Published anything I might have read?"
My throat closes. The fork trembles in my hand as Leonard's question hangs in the air like a blade waiting to fall. Published anything he might have read?
Almost… I was so close….
"Not yet," I manage, my voice steadier than I feel.
The phantom weight of Richard's betrayal presses down on my lungs, making it hard to breathe. I can still smell his cologne, that cloying, expensive scent that used to make me feel important when he took me to industry parties. Now it just makes me want to vomit.
I don’t have Asher’s hand in mine, but before I can think about how to grab it, his hand lands on my knee under the table, giving me a gentle squeeze that grounds me.
"The publishing industry can be... challenging," I say carefully.
Leonard nods like he's just confirmed something unpleasant about me. He leans back in his chair, studying us both with those predatory eyes. "Of course. I have to say, Asher didn't mention he was dating anyone. This engagement came as a surprise."
"Sometimes, you just know." Asher’s eyes find mine, and for a moment, the intensity and adoration there make me forget this is all pretend. "When it's right, timing doesn't matter."
"How romantic." Celeste takes a delicate sip of wine.
Leonard's laugh is sharp as breaking glass. "How unlike you, Son. You've always been so methodical about everything else."
The criticism lands like a slap. I watch Asher's jaw tighten, see the muscle tic at his temple. Without thinking, I reach under the table and place my hand on his knee. He tenses for a brief second, and then relaxes into my touch.
“Grace, you must come to the retreat at the end of the month,” Celeste says, changing the subject. “It’s our annual spring equinox retreat. We’ll be shedding this dreary winter and preparing ourselves for spring. Truly a delightful tradition. I’ll have Calla arrange everything for you.”
I nod. Barely understanding what she's asking.
“It’s at our Bali location,” Dove adds.
Asher squeezes my knee again, and I turn to look at him, letting his eyes lock on mine while he does the talking. “We’ll be there,” he confirms. “Grace is excited to see Bali.”
I nod. “I’ve never been.”
"Sorry I'm late. What did I miss?"
All the heads at the table turn in the newest arrival’s direction.
Wren Caine. Asher's youngest brother is dressed in a fitted black suit with shaggy hair that he pushes back with his hand, not that it does much as more pieces fall onto his forehead.
“Wren.” Leonard shakes his head, and for a moment, I’m thankful that the attention is off me. Wren must see that because he winks at me.
He rounds the table and pauses next to me, extending his hand for me to shake. "I’m Wren, the handsome Caine brother. I’m sorry for your misfortune in choosing the wrong one.”
Asher hisses something beside me.
I've heard about Wren through Kacey, but I've never met the younger Caine brother. I nod, dumbfounded, and shake his hand. I’m not sure what I was expecting, another Asher maybe? And he does resemble his brother, but Wren’s demeanor is so different in comparison.
"Punctuality reflects character," Leonard says coldly, and when he looks away, I can see Wren silently repeat the words, his mouth moving mockingly.
"And obsession with punctuality reflects a desperate need for control.
" His voice carries the same Caine confidence as Asher's, but edged with something sharper.
"Some of us have actual businesses to run, not just corporate empires to inherit.
" He flashes his gaze to Asher, a smirk pulling at the edges of his lips.
Asher doesn’t react, moving his attention from Wren and back to his father. Leonard’s face has hardened from Wren’s witty comment, and he grips his hand tightly around his salad fork.
The tension at the table could be cut with a knife.
"Well," Celeste interjects with forced brightness, "isn't this lovely? The whole family together."
Leonard scoffs. "Not the whole family." The comment makes Celeste's lip purse, and she stabs her fork into her salad, not responding.
Wren drops into his chair with deliberate casualness, completely unbothered by the storm clouds gathering around his father. He catches my eye and grins like we're sharing some private joke.
"So, Grace," he says, reaching for his wineglass, "what's it like dating someone who schedules his emotions?"
"Wren," Asher warns.
"What? I'm just curious how you two work. I mean, did he present you with a relationship contract? Timeline for milestones? Performance metrics?"
My face burns. If only he knew how close to the truth he is.
"That's enough," Leonard's voice cuts through the room.
But Wren just shrugs, unrepentant. "I'm just saying, Grace deserves to know what she's getting into with Mr. Perfect over here."
The silence that follows is deafening. Even the staff seem to have frozen in place.
This family is going to eat me alive.
I reach over to squeeze Asher's knee again, hoping it grounds him the way it has for me.
“Actually, I find his perfectionism quite endearing.” I turn to face Asher, a little smile tilting up my lips.
He looks at me, shocked at first, and I wonder if anyone has ever defended him before.
He places his hand atop mine and squeezes.
“And it seems to dissipate when he’s with me.
That’s the beauty of relationships, isn’t it?
Getting to know someone well enough that their outer shell melts away.
I feel honored to be that person for Asher. ”
When I look away from him and back to his family, they’re all watching us with varying surprised and annoyed expressions. But Asher’s eyes are only on me, shining with something I can’t quite place, but I think it’s gratitude.