Chapter 49
ASHER
My hands are shaking as I enter the office the day of the board meeting. I left Grace sleeping on the couch after she told me what Richard said moments before he almost killed her.
Fuck.
This is all my fault.
I can’t stop the onslaught of thoughts and regret. If I’d never intervened, this never would’ve happened. But I hated the knowledge of what that asshole did to Grace, and I wanted to make him pay. I had the means to make him pay.
And now, I’m realizing I am just like my father.
An asshole who uses my money and resources to get whatever I want, not thinking about how it will affect other people.
And then to see Grace with tears in her eyes, claiming this was all her fault when it was never hers. It was always mine.
I don’t deserve her.
I’m not good enough for someone as pure and sweet as Grace.
I run my hands through my hair. How did I get here?
Everything was going to plan, but ever since I was handed interim CEO, I haven’t had a handle on anything.
I feel out of control, my mind spinning with the number of things that need done, but anger has taken a home in my body and it tells me to kill my father.
If only that was something I was capable of.
My legs lead me to Gabe’s office, as if they know something I don’t, and the second I walk in, my brother stands. “You look like you’re spiraling.”
That’s because I am.
“Dad tried to have Grace killed.”
I’m not sure what I thought his reaction would be. Maybe that he would scoff. Say our father isn’t capable of such a thing. Tell me that’s not a possibility and my wife must have misunderstood.
But Gabe doesn’t do any of that.
He nods.
“Did you confront him yet?”
Confusion swirls in my brain, and I slump down into one of the chairs. “No. Do you think–” I can’t even finish the sentence.
Gabe considers it for a moment. “It’s a possibility. It would change the narrative, take some of the focus off him.”
I blow out a breath and drop my head into my hands. Change the narrative. God, I feel like such an idiot. He’s been telling me as much for the past week, that he was certain something would change the narrative and everything would be fine.
And the bastard used my wife to do it.
“Fuck. I can’t even wrap my head around this.”
Gabe sits down next to me, elbows resting on his knees as he leans in. “Do you have proof?”
I look at him, that stoic seriousness still in his features. He’s unfazed by this whole ordeal. “No. Grace’s word, but no proof.”
“If you confront him, it’s just going to be an arguing match, and you know how that goes.” He’ll win. “So we need proof first. How do you know it was him?”
I let Gabe’s calm attitude and logic sink in. “Richard told Grace before Wallace swerved the car off the road.”
“Do you have any cameras or anything in the car that would have recorded that?”
“No.” I shake my head with a sigh.
“Okay.” Gabe nods, but I can see him working through the possibilities. “Well, there has to be something. A loose end somewhere. We just have to keep looking.” He claps his hands on his thighs and pushes up to stand.
“You… You know he’s capable of something like this?”
My brother considers me for a moment, and then he says, “I told you he forced my hand to get me back here, and that’s true. But… I’d be lying if I said I don’t have ulterior motives. I want to stop him from hurting anyone ever again.”
I take Gabe’s advice and don’t confront my father, even if my hands twitch throughout the entire board meeting. I’m still thinking about what he shared with me, that he wants to stop our father from hurting anyone ever again. I get the feeling that Gabe knows more than he’s let on previously.
The news of Grace’s accident has done exactly what Gabe suspected: overshadowed all the other stories of my father’s misdeeds, the public slowly forgetting he’s a monster, just as he wants.
It’s when he tries to convince the board that I’ll need to step back to take care of my wife in her time of need that everything finally clicks for me.
I knew my father was a terrible man, but trying to have my wife killed is a new level of terrible, even for him.
Or maybe, I’m just finally seeing what I’ve been ignoring for years.
Has he always been this fucked up? Gabe wasn’t surprised in the slightest, like he knew our father was capable of such atrocities.
Was his plan to kill her and then take back his position at the company, spinning up a tale that I’m grieving and can’t fulfill my duties?
Like hell.
“I’m fine,” I interrupt him. “Grace is at home recovering, and I’m back to work.”
He looks pissed at his inability to spin this situation in his favor, all because my wife survived.
“Sounds like Asher should stay on as CEO,” Gabe adds, tossing a sly smile my way. “We’ll want to make sure the headlines die down and wait for a good time to transition back. Or maybe he stays? Makes a good story, doesn’t it?”
Some of the board nods in agreement, but my father’s face stays twisted. “Interim,” he mutters as Delmar moves onto the next agenda item, and by the time the meeting ends, my father is clearly annoyed with me, but I remain interim CEO.
When I get back to the penthouse late that night, Grace is in my room, curled up under the covers on my bed. At some point in time, she started sleeping in here with me and never stopped.
Regret curdles in my stomach like sour milk when I see the little cuts scattered on her face and the bruises that mar her skin.
This is my fault.
If I would have never roped her into this charade, she’d be fine. At home with her roommate, writing her book, and watching her Gilmore Girls on repeat, not recovering from a car accident.
My own father tried to have her murdered. And for what? To change the narrative running through the news outlets that claim he’s a bad person? He is a bad person.
Renewed anger floods me, and I’m not sure who I’m more mad at. My father, for all the terrible things he’s done? Or myself, for letting them impact Grace?
She’s too good for this world, too good for me. I can’t risk her getting caught up in my family's drama again, because my father has proven that it could be more than a stain on her reputation. He’s willing to take her life.
And even though the thought tears me up inside…
I know what I have to do.