Chapter 61

ASHER

“What the hell are you doing here, Jonathon?” I demand, my fury fueling me to rise and meet him eye to eye.

“What I want from life isn’t the issue here, kid. The real question is, what do I want from you?”

“Isn’t that what I just asked, idiot?”

“I want my girl to be treated right. I want her under me like she was a few weeks ago. I want her to want me. But she doesn’t. She wants you, and that’s your fault.”

“Wait, my fault?” His words catch me off guard. Is that why Maddison’s next door? I doubt it, but this fool doesn’t know that I’m aware she’s not there entirely by choice.

“Yep, your fault with your promises of fairytale endings and a love that won’t last past the honeymoon phase. Maddison isn’t that kind of girl, Asher. She’s been hurt and she’s jaded. She needs a real man to take care of her—to keep her grounded.” He steps closer, pacing as I back up into the vacant apartment that mirrors mine.

There’s no furniture to hide behind, no rugs to steady my footing. The kitchen is bare, devoid of any potential weapons.

It’s an empty shell, waiting for someone, probably Atty, to move in. That’s the impression I’ve always gotten from my folks, anyway.

“I believe Maddison is perfectly capable of living a normal life outside of the insane situation you and Fennick have created.”

“Her name is Hope,” he corrects me, his voice laced with venom.

“Why? Her parents named her Maddison. That’s her legal name. That’s her real name. Or do you need to distance yourself from the reality that she’s a living, breathing person with a life to live? Does it make it easier for you to sleep with her if she’s just a name without a life attached to it?”

He lunges at me before I can dodge. We both tumble to the floor, my head smacking the hard tile as his hand closes around my throat.

“Her name is Hope because she’s mine, not his. That’s what we decided. Hope for a future, for a life unlike any other. She’s my—”

I can’t stand his bullshit anymore. My fist connects with his jaw, my thumb throbbing from being clenched in my fist.

Instead of retreating, he straddles me, using his rage to land blow after blow on my face and ribs. They sting like hell.

But if there’s one thing Zach taught me, it’s to absorb the hits and conserve energy. Wait for them to tire before you strike back.

And he does tire. He starts to get up, thinking I’m out cold. But I seize the opportunity to flip him over and take his place, raining punches on his ribs, avoiding his face.

I channel my anger into his torso, a private display of my fury. He coughs and sputters, blood splattering the white marble floor, prompting me to get off him and sit in the middle of the room.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” I spit out, seething.

Who does he think he is, barging in here and starting a fight when I was a willing participant in his company’s transactions?

“I paid for her fair and square. Just like all the other guys she sleeps with at the club. She’s with me just like she’s with them, so what’s your problem? Feeling threatened? Let me tell you something, jerk, she’s not going anywhere. She won’t leave the club because of you. I offered her a way out before the other two, and she turned me down. And I saw earlier that it was you. She stays in the hope that you might change for her…”

How fitting, her nickname symbolizes so much between them. I get up, clutching my aching ribs, and limp toward the window overlooking the adjoining balconies.

They’re just beyond the wall. I’m certain they haven’t left, even though the chaos between us has quieted. The lights are back on, the sprinkler system has stopped its relentless spray, and the alarm has silenced itself.

The danger has passed, the fire is under control. Our staff’s training and the efficiency of the system are undeniable.

Jonathon rises from behind me, his shoes squeaking against the tile floor as he struggles to find his balance.

I brace myself, expecting him to come at me, to reignite the fight. But instead, I hear the sound of his footsteps retreating—the door opening and slamming shut in his wake.

He’s gone, just like that, leaving me in a state of confusion and anger. I find myself cleaning up the blood on the floor with the neglected white towels from the bathroom—leftovers from a room cleaning that feels like a lifetime ago.

They’re covered in a thick layer of dust, a testament to how long they’ve been forgotten. Amidst the mess on the floor, I find my key fob and my father’s. So that’s how he got in…

With nothing else to do, I leave the now empty apartment and unlock my own. The three girls are huddled together, their eyes filled with expectation as they watch me.

I give them a quick glance before rushing past them to clean myself up.

“Asher,” Maddison calls out from behind me. “Hey.”

I don’t respond. Instead, I continue into my room and head straight for my en-suite.

To my dismay, she follows me, showing no hesitation in invading my personal space.

To make matters worse, she closes the bathroom door behind her, trapping herself inside with a version of me she really shouldn’t get to know.