Chapter 45
ASHER
Everything is about to change.
I can't place how I know this, but I feel it. The energy in the air has shifted as the guests clear out, and soon, we'll be left with just my family and my father’s most trusted executives.
"Take her home." I practically shove Grace out the door as I give Wallace the order.
"Asher, stop." Grace's palms land on my shoulders as her pretty eyes bore into mine. "It's going to be okay."
I scoff, and her brow furrows. She's being naive.
Something I love about her; she's pure, untainted by the world my family lives in.
And maybe that's why I want her to go, like a desperate need to keep her pure.
Sure, she's met my father, heard his snarks and witnessed his petty behaviors, but she's never seen him blow. And I wouldn't wish that on anyone.
"What are you worried about?" She reaches up, her palm coasting over my cheek.
For a brief moment, I close my eyes and let her warmth radiate through me.
What would it be like to live in her world?
To let all this go and just be…free? I imagine shackles breaking, a weight being lifted.
But that's not possible. I could never walk away from my family.
"You need to go." I don't answer her question, repeating my order. And like the good girl that she is, she nods, plants a kiss on my cheek, and spins around, walking out with Wallace.
This is the second time in the span of a month that something has gone terribly wrong. First, Dove's wedding. What was supposed to be a merger of powerful families fell through in the most publicly embarrassing way it could. And now, a bastard child airing our family drama at our own fundraiser.
I'm completely certain that my father is about to lose his mind. And from experience, I know that comes with yelling, throwing furniture, and making sure everyone around him feels as small as possible.
I watch as Grace gets in the car, and once I know she's safe, I turn back to reenter the ballroom.
"Is it true?" I reach for Gabe as he slips by me, gripping his shoulder and forcing him to spin around. The last few stragglers are clearing out, and my brother eyes them as they leave before turning his attention back to me.
"I'm as surprised as you are." He shrugs, smoothing the lapels on his tux.
"Bullshit." I watched his face when that girl spoke. He knew what she was going to say. "Who is she?"
Gabe smiles. "A poor girl living in a very expensive city who needs some help with college expenses. She wrote a very convincing essay."
"And in that essay, did she mention that she's our sister?"
"Half-sister." It's Wren who chimes in. I rub my hand over my eyes, not even sure when he appeared behind us, leaning against the wall casually. “She’s the affair baby.”
"Ash." Gabe claps a hand on my shoulder, and I know he's trying to be convincing, but I'm not convinced. Something is fishy here. "It's done. Now, we need to figure out the next move."
"Why do I feel like the next move is making Asher CEO?" Wren yawns, as if this whole conversation is boring him.
"It's your family business too, you do realize that?" I snap at my younger brother. His constant jokes and lack of seriousness finally pushes me over the edge.
But something simmers underneath my skin. He's right. The solution might be making me CEO.
It would take some of the spotlight off my father's misdeeds, or at least make it look like he's being punished for them, removed from the head of his own company after the news breaks. And who better to replace him than me? The one who's been training for my entire life.
Anticipation thrums through me. This could finally be it.
"Nah." Wren pushes off the wall to stand straight. "This company might have my last name attached to it, but I want nothing to do with Dad's empire."
His words shouldn't surprise me. Wren's always been against our family business. But I viewed his distaste as a protection mechanism. You can't get hurt by our father's games if you don't play them.
"Why are you even here then?" I ask.
A twisted smile rises on my younger brother’s face. "I just like the drama."
"That's what this is to you? Just drama?" Annoyance edges my words. I have more important things to be worrying about than my brother treating this like a spectacle. I need to focus on how to fix this situation.
"Yeah, Ash. It matters to them. It doesn't have to matter to us." Wren talks like he's trying to prove a point to me, but I wave him off.
"Like it's that easy."
Wren shrugs. "It could be. I'm gonna go in so I can get a good seat before Dad melts down." He winks. Fucking winks. And then he goes back into the ballroom.
I turn to face my older brother.
"Come on." He claps a hand on my shoulder and leaves me to go back into the room. I follow, but I can't shake how he never admitted to knowing what our supposed half-sister was going to say.
The ballroom feels cavernous now that the guests have dispersed. Unease rolls through me in stomach-clenching waves.
It's only my family, plus Delmar and Charles, of course. Silence stretches taut between us as we wait for the thread to snap.
My father stands at the window, hands clasped behind his back, staring out at the city lights. He hasn't moved since we entered. Hasn't spoken a word.
His silence is almost worse than the yelling.
If Dove were here, she'd already be speaking, trying to solve all the problems until my father would snap at her to shut up.
None of us speak, though, all waiting for him to start, knowing it's useless to try to prevent.
My mother perches on the arm of a chair, spine rigid, fingers worrying the strand of meditation beads she's holding. Even her carefully cultivated serenity can't mask the fury radiating from her.
At some point in my teenage years, I started to wonder if my parents loved me as much as they loved the empire they built.
Watching them now, I can't think of a time they ever looked this worked up over something that involved one of their kids. Or more precisely, one of their kids’ health or happiness.
Delmar stands near the bar, arms crossed, watching my father like a hawk. Charles leans against the doorframe, expression unreadable.
"Well…" Wren breaks the silence, dropping into a chair and stretching his legs. "That was fun."
"Shut up," I bite out at my younger brother, his antics fraying at my nerves. I don't want him to ruin this for me by making our father even angrier than he already is.
Wren grins at me, his signature look that turns me backwards in time into a raging child who wants to punch him in the stomach. "What? I'm just saying what everyone's thinking."
"No one's thinking that," Gabe's measured and controlled voice interjects. He's too eerily calm, and I find his demeanor unnerving.
My father finally turns from the window. His face is carved from stone, jaw so tight I can see tendons standing out in his neck.
"Who knew?" he asks, dangerously quiet. "Who knew about this girl?"
Silence.
I swear you'd be able to hear a pin drop. Not a single one of us moves. I spare a glance at Gabe, who's still standing on the other side of Wren, fingers entwined in front of him, completely unbothered by the situation. I'm not sure if his demeanor makes him guilty or innocent.
"I said, who knew?" Father repeats, the last word cracking like a whip.
Inhaling a deep breath, I gather every bit of calmness I can, controlling every inch of my being as to not trigger him further. "None of us," I say carefully. "She wasn't on anyone's radar."
"Except Gabriel's." My father's eyes lock on my older brother. "You gave her that scholarship."
Gabe doesn't flinch. "Her essay was compelling." He shrugs one shoulder. "Her grades are exceptional. She met every criterion. I didn't dig into her paternity."
"Don't play games with me, boy." Leonard moves closer, his steps predatory. My body aches to flinch, but years of honing my reflexes prevents it. Plus, he's not coming for me. Instead, he stalks to my brother, a finger wagging menacingly. "You knew who she was!"
"I knew she needed help." Gabe is so unaffected by my father’s words that it feeds that inkling inside me that thinks he's not surprised like the rest of us.
"You knew she was mine." His possessive rage makes my stomach turn. "And you gave her a platform to humiliate this family."
"She humiliated you," Gabe corrects, still calm. "The rest of us had nothing to do with what you did to her mother."
The slap happens so fast that I almost miss it. One second, my father's at arm's length, and the next, his palm cracks across Gabe's face, hard enough to snap his head to the side.
My mother gasps. Even Wren sits up straighter.
None of us should be surprised by his outburst. The only person in this room who hasn't seen my father hit one of his children is Charles.
Gabe touches his reddening cheek, then slowly straightens. His eyes when they meet our father’s are void of everything except contempt.
"Feel better?" he asks quietly.
Leonard's fist clenches. For a second, I think he's going to hit him again. But Charles steps forward, clearing his throat.
"Perhaps we should focus on damage control," he suggests diplomatically.
"Damage control?" My father rounds on him. "The entire New York elite just watched some bastard child accuse me of—"
"Of exactly what you did," Gabe interrupts. "You had an affair with your assistant, got her pregnant, and paid her to abort the child. That's not an accusation, Father. It's a fact."
"You self-righteous—"
"Leonard." Delmar's voice cuts through. "Charles is right. We need to focus on mitigation, not blame."
My father's hands shake with suppressed rage. He moves to the bar, pouring three fingers of scotch and downing it in one swallow.
"The board meets in less than a month." Delmar continues. "They're already nervous after Dove's wedding disaster. This will only make things worse."
"Then we move up the CEO announcement," my mother says, her voice returning to that serene cadence. "Show stability. Show succession. Show them that Sanctum is bigger than one scandal."
All eyes turn to me.
This is it. The moment I've been working toward my entire life.
It doesn't feel as triumphant as I thought it would because of how it’s coming about.
“Asher has met all your requirements, dear,” my mother says, her voice filled with its fake sweetness.
He looks at me, disgust coloring his gaze as he downs more alcohol. “Interim,” he says once his eyes land back on Delmar.
Resentment slithers beneath my skin. Even now, after meeting every condition he’s given, after he’s tainted the business with his scandal, he still won’t just hand over the reins. He has to make it temporary.
Delmar touches his chin, thinking over the suggestion. “We could say it was the plan anyway, pretend it was on the board meeting agenda and that it has nothing to do with tonight's… events.”
“No.” My father shakes his head. “Interim CEO, and we wait until it all blows over.”
Wren barks out a laugh beside me, and when all heads turn to him, he looks around like, how is everyone else not finding this funny? “Oh, I’m sorry, was that a serious suggestion?”
My father’s gaze darkens. “It will blow over.” His voice is low and gruff.
“You’re naive if you think I won’t make sure it does.
” He looks to the three of us now. “I know one of you is behind this, thinking you can boot good ol’ dad out of his throne?
I’ll figure it out. I always do, and you’ll regret your choices.
” Turning around, he pours another glass he doesn’t need before waving his hand over his shoulder.
“Asher is interim CEO. Now all of you, get out of my fucking sight.”
With another chuckle, Wren stands up, patting me on my shoulder. “Good luck.”
Everything I’ve worked my entire life for has just come to fruition.
I’m CEO of Sanctum International.
So why don’t I feel happy about it?