Page 26

26

BILLIE

M y phone buzzes against the bedside table, jolting me awake. My heart sinks the moment I read the text from an unknown number.

Unknown

Soon, the world will see you for the whore you are.

Anxiety snakes through my chest and wraps around me until I can barely breathe. I quickly read the message again, but the threat lingers in my mind, a poison that seeps deep under my skin.

This must be Josh. I remember him saying something similar when I called him out for cheating.

I’ve never been unfaithful to him or anyone else. It’s just not how I operate.

I don’t want this beautiful thing that Asher and I have built over the past few weeks to shatter like glass. I don’t want things to change between us. While I wish Asher and I could be public, I enjoy keeping him to myself, away from the pressure and permission of the outside world. Anytime I’m in a relationship, the media jumps straight to marriage and kids—something that’s been happening since my early twenties. Imagine seeing your face on the front of every raunchy tabloid just because you held someone’s hand in public. Because of how cruel the public can be, I’m savoring every private moment we share, knowing that, one day, we won’t have to hide.

I just have to wait for Asher to finish whatever he’s so determined to do.

Josh has been working Asher ragged, making him pull eighteen-hour days, and I haven’t seen him in four days. The last time we were together, he kissed me softly and promised me it was almost over.

I lock my phone, trying not to spiral. I don’t want this to set the tone for my day.

I dress quickly and mechanically, my mind racing. My fingers tremble as I smooth down my black silk blouse, then button my suit jacket with a quick flick of my wrist.

I wondered how long it would take for Josh to threaten me. I anticipated it, almost expecting the worst.

When I climb into my car, I stop my driver from pulling away and text Brody.

A minute later, he’s sliding into the back seat with me. “What’s up?”

I unlock my phone and hand it to him.

He reads the text message, his brow furrowing. “Whose number is this?”

“I don’t know. It’s probably a burner phone. But I think it’s Josh,” I tell him, my voice barely above a whisper.

My cousin meets my eyes, and his jaw locks firmly in place. “What does he have on you?”

“I have no idea,” I whisper, my heart thumping hard. “This is my worst nightmare.”

Brody’s eyes soften. “Have you told Asher?”

I shake my head. “Not yet. ”

“I’ll talk to him,” Brody tells me.

“Please discuss this in person. Do not text him, okay?”

“I can do that,” he says.

“Nothing regarding this or us can be put into writing,” I confirm.

“Little cousin, what have you gotten yourself into?” Brody asks, concern etched in his features.

“I don’t know,” I admit, not liking how any of this makes me feel. It’s like a weight pressing down on my chest.

I’m let out in front of Bellamore headquarters. On my way to my office, my assistant hands me a double shot of espresso. I thank her and move into the waiting room, glancing over my sculptures.

“Do you think these resemble dicks?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “The truth, please.”

Her brows pop upward, and she swallows hard. “Are you going to fire me?”

“No,” I tell her.

“Yes, they do,” she says with a small smile.

“Please have these moved out and donated to the Calloway Fine Art Museum by the end of the day. My brothers can decide where they’ll be displayed.” I wave my hand dismissively, as if that will make the sculptures disappear faster.

“Yes, right away,” she says.

I move into my office, sinking into my chair behind the desk.

I glance over my shoulder, catching sight of Asher’s building with blinds erected to block my view. It’s okay because I know he’s not there—he hasn’t been since we returned from the Hamptons.

Things are changing so fast that my head is spinning. I won’t complain though because I don’t feel as lost as I did a month ago. Thanks to Asher, I’m hopeful for the first time in years.

The day drags on, filled with grueling hours of meetings with designers. Harper and I are pushing forward with our plan to fake out Josh with our designs. Did he figure it out?

Conference rooms and calls blur together, voices fade into the background, and I randomly remember the threat that was texted to me this morning. It haunts me, lurking like a shadow.

“You okay?” Harper asks, leaning against my office doorway, her expression filled with concern. “You’ve looked rattled all day.”

“I’m fine,” I lie, forcing a smile that feels more like a grimace.

She sighs knowingly, stepping in and gently closing the door behind her. “Billie, you can’t pretend with me. What’s going on?”

I close my eyes briefly, then admit quietly, “I got a threatening text message this morning. I know it’s from Josh, Harp. I don’t know what dirt he has on me, but?—”

Her jaw tightens. “Don’t let him do this. Don’t give him that power. You’re Billie Calloway. He can threaten all he fucking wants.”

“You don’t know what he’s capable of,” I whisper, gathering strength from her words.

“I do.” Harper squeezes my shoulder reassuringly. “You’ve got Asher on your side. He won’t let anything happen, babe. Now, show me what you’ve been working on.”

I unlock my iPad and hand it to her. She swipes through the different outfits I’ve designed. It’s how I’ve kept my mind busy, pouring my feelings into fabric and sketches.

“Wow,” she says, and wiggles as if trying to shake off the goose bumps covering her arms. “This gave me chills. This is it. This is what we showcase in London.”

“Harp,” I whisper, anxiety creeping in, “we have a little over three weeks. There’s no way I can get it all together.”

“Listen to me. You’re Billie fucking Calloway. Make it happen,” she insists, her tone fierce. “I’ll compile a team of our very best seamstresses. Do you have a model in mind?”

“Of course I don’t. I was messing around with this,” I say. “It wasn’t serious.”

“It’s incredible,” she tells me, pointing emphatically. “You walk this design on the runway. ”

I shake my head vehemently. “Harp, I haven’t done a show since I was a teenager.”

She licks her lips and smiles. “Guess that’s changing.”

“Please don’t pull rank,” I whisper, half joking, half serious.

“You are the right height and build. You’re confident and commanding. Shine like a diamond,” she says.

I swallow hard, doubt creeping back in. “You can’t be serious. This is impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible unless you believe it is. You are our showstopper, babe.” She giggles with excitement, her energy infectious. “We keep it a secret. No one can know what we’re working on.” Harper darts her pinkie toward me. “Swear it.”

“But …”

“Lock it in,” she demands, and I know she won’t let me wiggle out of this one.

We hook our pinkies together and lock them, a promise sealed.

“I have a good feeling. It’s one I never ignore,” she says, a radiant smile lighting up her face. Harper claps her hands together and laughs. “This is our comeback.”

“I don’t have a name for it,” I say, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension.

“You’ll think of something,” she encourages, her belief in me unwavering.

“And what about our original lineup?” I ask, still trying to grasp the situation.

“We’ll keep what we have with one addition.” She points down to the dress. “This one.”

I sigh. “It’s risky.”

“It’s unexpected. A risk I’m willing to take,” Harper confirms with a bright smile. “Looks like you have work to do.”

“Harp,” I whisper.

“I’ll contact Lucia, the head of product development, and we can work on getting a pattern cut by the end of the day tomorrow,” she says, her voice steady and confident. “No more playing small, Billie. Show them why Bellamore is the best .”

My emotions flood in. “What if I can’t?”

“You can. You will . I believe in you.”

“This isn’t our brand,” I say.

“ We are our brand,” she confirms, her eyes sparkling with conviction. “Just be you. That’s what everyone wants.”

“Asking you to be my partner was one of the best decisions I ever made,” I tell her. “I’m proud of you, Harp.”

“I’m proud of you, Little Miss CEO. Now let’s fuck them up. Show the world what we’re made of instead of lying down for these shitty men who think they understand women’s fashion. This is our industry, not theirs.”

Harper looks at me, fire igniting behind her eyes, like she’s ready for us to burn down the whole damn place to prove a point.

After my pep talk, Harper leaves me to gather my thoughts.

The pressure on my shoulders feels almost unbearable. I haven’t designed like this or walked a runway in over a decade, and I’ve never created a runway-worthy concept in this amount of time.

I glance down at the ball gown I sketched last week. It fades from burnt orange to red, a fiery masterpiece that seems to pulse with life. When I close my eyes, I can vividly imagine it fluttering at the hem. The fabrics and fit are so clear in my mind. Sparkling embellishments will line the bust; the painstaking task of hand-beading will take hours.

Dread tightens its grip around me, but I push through it the best I can as I contact Fallon, our design director who works directly under Harper.

I leave work the moment the sky melts into shades of orange and pink. I sneak out the back exit of the building and slide into my car, eager to shield myself from the paparazzi and return to my elusive self. When I make it to my building, I let out a relieved sigh.

Once I walk inside my loft, I head straight to the couch, setting my satchel on the floor. I lean my head back against the cushion, staring up at the ceiling, letting my mind drift for a moment. My phone buzzes in my bag, and I dig inside to pull it out.

Brody

He’s been made aware.

I hurry to respond.

Billie

Thank you.

My cousin sends me a thumbs-up emoji, and I lock my phone, returning to my racing thoughts. I don’t know how long I sit on the couch, lost in my own head. The only thing that pulls me away is a knock.

Our secret knock. Knock, knock, pause, knock .

I open the door to find Asher standing there, his eyes full of concern.

I pull him inside with me, needing his presence like air.

“Brody told me, and I rushed here,” he mutters before capturing my lips in a kiss.

I melt into him, missing him so damn much. He pulls me into a hug, holding me tight against him. I inhale his cologne—a scent that feels like home, wishing I could bottle it up and keep it with me always.

“I’ve missed you,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you too,” he replies, and I can see the exhaustion etched across his face. “Have you received any other threatening messages?”

“No.” I force myself to smile, but it’s weak, fractured, like a cracked mirror.

He shakes his head, cupping my face gently in his hands. “What could he have on you?”

I let out a shaky breath, trying to steady my thoughts. “I don’t know. Text messages? We were together for four years, Ash. He could release every conversation we’d ever had. ”

Anger flashes through Asher’s eyes. “I won’t let this happen.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” I whisper, gripping his shirt and pulling him closer. “It’s you, Ash. I can’t lose you.”

“There is nothing Josh could ever say that would make me give you up.” His expression softens instantly, protectiveness mixing with raw vulnerability. “You won’t lose me. Ever. This love isn’t fragile, Billie. It’s fucking bulletproof. No matter what happens, it’s you and me against the world.”

Emotion wells in my chest, relief mixing with determination. “You promise?”

“I swear it,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, grounding me in this moment. “You’re mine. Nothing changes that.”

I breathe out, surrendering completely to the warmth of his embrace. His touch ignites something deep within me, melting away the lingering fears that have held me captive. He kisses me slowly, deeply, his mouth tasting of promises and forever. His hands slide gently down my body, stripping away the layers, both physical and emotional. My heart races, my breath catches, and my entire world narrows to just him.

The fading light casts shadows across our bodies as we kiss. It’s tender yet possessive, each movement echoing the depth of our commitment—a silent vow that we’ll face whatever comes our way together.

“You’re mine, princess.” His whispered words against my skin send shivers down my spine. His hands thread through my hair as he kisses my forehead, eyelashes, and cheeks. It feels like worship.

“You’re everything,” I whisper against his lips. “Everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Tears prick my eyes as I cling to him, overwhelmed by the emotions surging through me. He presses his forehead against mine, our breaths mingling as we spiral together. This—us—is worth every risk, every sacrifice.

Asher Banks is my future, my heart, my home .

And I’ll fight anyone who dares to threaten that.

“I’ll go to war for you,” he confesses, pressing his lips gently against mine. “Fuck, I already have.”

I wake up to Asher’s legs tangled around mine, a warm weight that anchors me to this moment. His strong arm is like a fortress over my body, and I feel the steady rhythm of his breath against my neck.

“Good morning,” he whispers, his voice rough, pulling me closer, as if he’s afraid to let go.

I turn to face him, our noses almost brushing, morning breath and all. A grin breaks across my face, and I feel like I’m dreaming. I always do when it’s just us and the fluttering of our hearts.

“Ash, I want to wake up like this every day. I know it’s a tall order, but I can’t stand the thought of going days without you,” I confess, my heart racing. “And I miss your smart-ass mouth.”

He stirs, blinking against the sunlight spilling through the curtains. The golden light dances across the floor, making his messy hair shine like a halo. A smile grows on his perfect lips, and, damn, he looks like a Greek god with his chiseled jaw and the stubble that lines it perfectly.

“Will sleeping next to me make you happy?” he asks, brushing his fingertips softly against my cheek, sending a jolt of electricity through me.

Goose bumps cover my arms.

“The happiest,” I breathe out, wishing I could freeze this moment forever, where everything feels right and uncomplicated. Nothing can bother us when we’re alone like this.

“Then consider it done,” he replies, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth .

“Really?” Laughter bursts from me, light and carefree.

“It’s always a yes if I get that reaction,” he says, his expression softening as he leans in closer, lightly brushing his lips across mine.

“You always know how to steal my breath away.”

He smiles. “It’s because it’s right. Inevitable.”

The word hangs between us, heavy with meaning. Inevitable—like gravity, like sunrise and sunset, like how my body has always responded to his touch or the way he looks at me with those deep, searching eyes.

“I don’t regret much in life, but?—”

“Don’t say it,” he interrupts, pressing a finger to my lips. “Regret nothing. Without it, we wouldn’t be here now. And don’t assume we would be because there are no guarantees.” His gaze, so serious now, holds mine with an intensity that makes my heart race. “Remember the past, but don’t relive it. We have an entire future to plan.”

“I hope you mean that,” I whisper, realizing that I’ve fallen in love with him with a ferocity that scares me. “I don’t think I can live without you.”

My words hang in the air between us, heavy and sweet, like the promise of something beautiful.

“Then don’t,” he says simply, as if it were the easiest solution in the world.

A thrill runs through me, a mix of excitement and vulnerability, because I know this man is mine if I want him. Even though my life is chaotic, this feels like the beginning of something life-changing. I can’t tell if I’m terrified or exhilarated at the thought, but either way, I want to dive in headfirst.

Asher’s lips find my neck and slide up to my mouth. He kisses me like he’s committed, and I know he is. The certainty of it makes my chest ache in a way that’s both thrilling and terrifying. This feeling has me so fucking scared that I nearly tremble.

Carefully, Asher slides his hands down my body, his touch leaving a trail of fire on my skin. His fingers slip into my panties, and he swallows hard, feeling how wet I am for him. My body has always been honest, even when my words and actions weren’t.

“Fuck, princess,” he moans against my neck, his breath hot against my skin. “Insatiable for me.”

“Always,” I whisper with a moan as he gently rubs circles on my clit.

My eyes nearly roll into the back of my head when he slides two fingers inside, curling exactly where I like.

I sink into him as he kisses my neck and whispers in my ear, his voice a seductive rumble, “I fucking love that sound.”

“Ash,” I whisper, my voice thick with need, “I want to feel you.” The words spill out, both a plea and a demand.

He chews on his lip as he slides out of his boxers, hovering above me, and our eyes meet—my sea blue against his sunset brown. In that moment, I see everything I’ve been afraid to hope for.

He slides deep inside of me, and it’s a promise. We’re in this together.

Asher and I float into the abyss, into nothingness—just us, sharing a moment that catapults us to a different universe. It’s always been him, this man who so patiently waited until I was ready for him, for this .

“More,” I groan out, arching my back off the bed, my body craving more of him. “You feel so good.”

He stretches me so wide and slams into me so deep that I nearly see stars. His breath in my ear is intoxicating, nearly undoing me.

“One day,” he whispers, placing soft kisses on my lips, “I’m going to marry you, Billie.”

I smile against him, then pull away, meeting his gaze. In his eyes, I see our entire future unfolding. “I hope you do.”

Butterflies flutter in my stomach, and his words feel like a promise. Asher Banks never breaks those. And as he moves inside me, claiming me completely, I realize I’ve never felt more alive, more seen, more loved. I’ve fallen in love with him completely and irrevocably, and there’s no going back. I don’t want to.

This is true love. I’ve been searching for it my entire life, and I’ve found it in him.

I was always the problem, not Asher. He’s always believed we were destined and was just waiting for me to finally wake up. My eyes are wide open.