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Asher smiles. “You shouldn’t. Not after how he treated you. Not after he stole your designs for years. On the flight over here, I figured out how he’d gained access to your designs.”
I swallow the bite of chicken in my mouth, and it feels as if it’s stuck in my throat. “How?”
“I can’t tell you. But it was Hannah.”
My nostrils flare. “My assistant? Are you sure? Asher, she’s been with me since …” My words trail off.
“Since you and Josh started dating, right? She’s on Lustre’s payroll too,” Asher replies calmly.
I inhale sharply. “Of course she is.”
I pull my phone from my pocket and text Harper. She immediately replies.
Harper
I’M FIRING HER RIGHT NOW!
I let out a heavy sigh. How could Hannah betray me like this? How long has she been spying for Josh? I lean back in my chair, realizing that was the missing piece to my puzzle. It all makes so much sense now.
“I’m so sorry. She sucks for that.”
“I just can’t believe it,” I whisper. “All those years … she was a part of everything. Every fucking fashion show, every design meeting … Asher, she was there.”
“Yeah, but something changed.” His brows lift. “I found recent emails where she was panicking about feeding him information. The designs she did eventually share were so bad, Josh didn’t believe it was legitimate.”
I smile wide, happy I followed my gut. “I sealed our designs tight. The only people with access were me, Harper, and my directors. Nothing was to be sent digitally, except the designs we planted as fakes.”
Asher grins. “So fucking smart, princess. Proud of you, Little Miss CEO.”
“That means a lot to me, Ash.”
We eat until we’re full. I yawn, and so does Asher.
“Tomorrow is a huge day for you,” he says, picking up our plates. “You should get some rest.”
Just as he moves to the kitchen, there’s a knock.
He opens the door to find a bellhop holding a massive bouquet of dark red roses. Asher signs for them, tips the young man, and brings the arrangement to me. A note is attached to it, and I pluck it from the top.
Can’t wait to see you again.
“What the fuck? Who sent these?” Asher asks.
My blood runs cold when I realize they didn’t come from him.
“I want them out of here,” I say, grabbing the flowers and entering the hallway. I set them next to the door.
Brody leans against the wall, scrolling his phone, and looks up at me. He tilts his head. “Harper was sent flowers too.”
“From who?” I ask.
“Micah,” he mutters. His eyes lock on me. “Do you know him?”
“No. They’re probably from Josh. Dispose of them,” I tell him. “Ensure nothing else is delivered to my room while I’m here.”
“Okay,” Brody says.
“Who knows my room number?” I ask.