Page 38

38

BILLIE

ONE WEEK LATER

I ’m standing in Asher’s charming little garden behind his townhouse, and the warmth of spring wraps around me. I’m excited for what I have planned, and I can’t wait to share the good news with Harper. The patio is strung with lights that twinkle like stars, casting a soft glow over the table I set for our double date. I laid out a crisp white tablecloth and placed a small vase of freshly picked flowers on top of the table. Tea lights are waiting to be lit.

I promised Harper we’d get together once everything settled down. It’s only been two weeks, and I’ve been avoiding the public and paparazzi, so tonight, we’re hosting Harper and Micah in Asher’s home. He cooked blackened Alaskan salmon, green beans, and garlic-roasted potatoes. The savory aroma already wafts through the air.

I can hardly contain my excitement about the evening. This isn’t just about dinner; it’s about sharing some big news—our engagement. I can’t wait to see the surprise light up Harper’s face, her expressive eyes widening in disbelief. I’ve imagined it so many times.

I move into the kitchen, watching Asher comfortably move around as he works on the food.

“I’m so nervous about tonight,” I confess, glancing at him.

He wipes his hand and moves closer until his lips brush against mine. A flutter of warmth spreads through me.

“Don’t be. It’s going to be great.”

“It’s this guy she’s dating,” I say, unable to hide my skepticism. “Something isn’t right.”

“Harper is smart. She’ll figure it out,” he replies, biting my earlobe playfully, a low growl rumbling from his throat.

“Mmm, don’t do that,” I protest. “This might turn into something el?—”

“Billie!” Harper’s voice cuts through our moment as she flings open the side gate, her energy bursting into the garden like a ray of sunshine.

I see her from the back door that’s wide open. I steal a quick kiss from Asher before meeting her outside.

Harper pulls me into a tight hug, her warmth wrapping around me like my favorite fall sweater.

“Where’s your date?” I ask, glancing behind her.

Moments later, Micah strolls through, his dark hair tousled and those piercing green eyes locking on to mine. I feel a jolt in my stomach. Asher must sense it, too, because as he approaches, his hand rests firmly on my back, grounding me.

“This is Micah,” Harper says, beaming as her boyfriend walks toward us, radiating a cocky confidence that’s hard to ignore.

It makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up straight. I try to shake the feeling.

“Hi. I’m Billie. Harper’s best friend,” I introduce myself, extending my hand, my heart pounding in my chest.

He takes it, pressing his lips against my knuckles. It’s unsettling.

“I’m Micah. Nice to see you again,” he says.

“Again?” A nervous laughter releases from me.

Asher’s grip tightens on my shirt, and I can feel his unease .

“I was at the Calloway Carat Gala. We spoke there when you were with Prince Louis,” Micah explains, his voice smooth. “We discussed artifacts from the Titanic .”

“Oh, right. Of course,” I reply, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes.

“And I’m Asher. Her future husband,” Asher interjects, his tone flat and serious, slicing through the chatter. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t fucking look at her like that.”

Asher’s words hang in the air, and he’s not playing games.

“You’re always making jokes,” Harper says playfully to Asher.

Her laughter is light, but I catch the flicker of concern in her eyes. This is already not going how I imagined.

I think she knows Asher wasn’t joking. It’s obvious by how tight his jaw is clenched and how his eyes don’t leave Micah.

Right now, I need to walk away and get my mind right.

“Oh, please, have a seat. Would you like some wine?” I ask, trying to keep my voice light as I juggle the swirling tension.

“Honestly, I’d love some wine,” Harper replies, her smile bright as Micah settles in and pulls her onto his lap, wrapping an arm around her waist possessively.

“Great. I’ll be right back.” I escape into the house, sucking in a deep breath.

When I’m in the kitchen, I grab a bottle of wine, and Asher enters behind me.

“What the fuck was that?” he demands, his voice furious, each word dripping with disdain. “I fucking hate this guy.”

A chuckle escapes me, but it fades quickly. “I know him, but not from the gala. Somewhere else.”

Asher leans close and speaks loud enough for me to hear. “If he looks at you like that again, I’m going to fuck him up.”

“Stop.” I laugh. “Best behavior,” I remind him, removing the cork from the bottle.

I shoot my fiancé a wink, wanting to desperately change the mood as I return to the table. My heart sinks at the sight of Micah’s tongue deep in Harper’s mouth.

“Wine,” I announce, and they break apart as I fill our glasses full.

The rich red liquid swirls like my thoughts as I light the tea candles on the table. Harper sits next to me and clinks her glass against mine, her eyes sparkling with excitement, oblivious to how her date is staring at me.

“To love and friendship,” Harper says, holding up her glass.

“Cheers,” I tell her, my voice barely above a whisper as I clink my glass against hers and then Micah’s. The sound dings in the quiet night.

Asher returns, carrying a platter of seafood-stuffed mushrooms. The aroma of garlic and herbs waft through the air, and my mouth waters with anticipation.

“I’ve heard things have been going well at Bellamore since London,” Micah says casually, leaning back in his chair with a relaxed grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Ah, right. We don’t discuss business after five p.m.,” Asher replies with an unmistakable don’t fuck with me edge in his sharp voice.

For a moment, I’m reminded of how much of an unapologetic asshole he can be, and I’m grateful for it.

“Anything else interesting you’d like to discuss?” Asher asks.

The atmosphere shifts, and an uncomfortable silence stretches on.

Micah licks his lips with a teasing chuckle that feels forced. “It’s been a very long time, Asher. How’s your sister?”

“ Dead ,” he snaps back, his voice dripping with disdain as the word hangs in the air. “Thanks so fucking much for asking.”

“Oh,” Harper gasps, her face turning pale as the conversation spirals out of control. She knows how Asher is. “I spoke to my brother this morning, and I told him the good news.”

“Which is?” Asher asks as if he didn’t just put Micah in his place .

She beams at her boyfriend, holding up her hand like a trophy. The diamond ring catches the light and sparkles brilliantly.

“We’re engaged!” she squeals.

My heart sinks as I force a grin. “Oh my God, Harp. Congratulations.”

In an impulsive move, I slide my ring off my finger and hand it to Asher under the table, who quickly tucks it into his pocket before they notice. The gesture feels bittersweet, but I can’t steal this moment from her. I rise and wrap my arms around Harper tightly, almost suffocating her with my joy and anxiety.

“I’m so happy for you,” I say as tears glisten on her cheeks, reflecting the candlelight like tiny stars. “This was your dream.”

“I know,” she replies, her voice full of emotion. “How lucky are we that we both found our person?”

“So lucky,” I say, meeting her eyes, searching for any sign of doubt, but all I see is confirmation.

I want to support her even if my gut screams otherwise.

“Congratulations,” I say to Micah, refusing to get too close to him.

Asher doesn’t say anything.

My insides twist like a pretzel as I watch Harper gaze at Micah with that foolishly-in-love look. He leans in for another kiss that feels rehearsed and hollow. It’s a performance more than a connection. It strikes me as odd, like a familiar song that’s being played slightly out of tune. I see through him, but I refuse to let my mask slip in front of this man, not now, not ever.

“It was like a dream,” Harper gushes as she relives the proposal. “The opera had just finished, and I was crying because it was so beautiful. Then Micah got down on one knee and proposed, right there in the middle of the crowd.” She twirls a loose strand of hair around her finger.

“Wasn’t that your dream proposal?” I ask, giving her a smile that feels too wide.

“Yes,” she whispers, lost in the memory .

“I remember us gushing about it. Let me guess. The show was … La Traviata ?” I tease.

“Actually, no. It was a rendition of Romeo and Juliet ,” she replies.

“Hmm. A tragedy,” Asher interjects, unamused. He leans forward, openly judging Micah with his brows furrowed. “Why that one?”

He’s onto him too. His reaction is proof that I’m not imagining this.

“My love for her is undying,” Micah replies, his gaze sliding toward me. It’s uncomfortable and unsettling, like a flame burning too close to the skin.

I quickly look away, my skin crawling under the weight of his stare, every nerve ending screaming for me to escape. I gulp down the rest of my wine and refill my glass, desperately trying to find the courage to finish this night on a positive note, but darkness falls around us.

“I have the perfect bottle of champagne to celebrate the special occasion,” I say, my voice a little too cheery for my own liking. “It’s your favorite, Harp.”

Her eyes light up at the mention of the almond champagne I have flown in from France. It’s the kind that sparkles like liquid gold. I brought a bottle for us to celebrate my engagement. It’s okay though. I’ll find another time to tell her when it’s just us.

“I’ll be right back,” I say.

She practically bounces in her seat with excitement.

I slip inside the kitchen to grab it, my heart racing with both anticipation and dread. I’m a roller coaster of emotions. Just as I reach for the bottle, a warm body presses against me from behind. Strong arms wrap around my waist with an intimacy that sends alarms ringing through my head.

I freeze when I realize it’s not Asher.

“Now you’re into it, unlike last time,” Micah whispers into my ear, his breath hot and laced with a menacing undertone that makes my stomach churn. “It happened almost like this, didn’t it? All those years ago?”

Panic floods my system as his hands slide down my stomach. He holds me in a suffocating grip that makes me feel trapped in my own skin, like a deer caught in headlights. Everything around me blurs as fear takes over. Suddenly, I’m thrust forward, and I hear Micah grunt behind me. My body locks up, and screams echo in my mind, but they never make it past my lips.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Asher’s voice cuts through the chaos.

He yanks Micah away from me with enough force to knock the breath out of him. The champagne bottle slips from my grasp. It’s almost as if time slows as the bottle shatters against the floor. A cascade of glass shards scatters everywhere, glinting dangerously in the dim light of the kitchen.

Asher’s fist connects with Micah’s face, and a sickening crunch echoes in my ears. He punches him over and over again. Micah grins up at Asher like a deranged lunatic, unfazed by the violence. It’s as if he thrives on this, feeding off it like a parasite.

“What are you doing?” Harper shrieks, her voice piercing the space as she rushes forward in a panic. She pushes Asher away from Micah, and her movements are frantic, desperate even.

“She came onto me!” Micah points at me. His expression twists, and he acts like a victim.

“No! I did not!”

His audacity rushes through me like an electric shock. I grab Harper’s arm, trying to pull her away from this monster, away from this terrible man whose eyes are full of malice.

“Let me go, Billie!” she snaps, jerking away from my grasp.

She bends down, her fingers brushing against Micah’s bruised face. Trust for him glimmers in her eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she offers. “Let’s leave, baby.”

“Harp, don’t go with him. Please !” My voice rises in desperation, a frantic plea. I reach for her again, wanting to pull her away from him forever.

“Don’t touch me, Billie,” she says sharply, grabbing Micah’s hand with loyalty that makes my stomach turn. “He predicted you’d ruin this for us. You can never be happy for me, can you?”

“Harper, please.” Tears stream down my face. “You can’t be serious!”

I glance at Asher. His fury is unhinged, eyes wild with rage as they follow Harper and Micah out the back door. Asher looks at Micah like a predator watching his prey escape.

And then it hits me like a freight train.

My world fragments into a million pieces, each memory a shard that cuts deep.

“I will destroy him,” Asher vows through gritted teeth. His voice is dangerous as his promise hangs heavy in the air.

“He took my best friend.” My lip quivers.

Asher pulls me into his arms, holding me tight against him while nuzzling into my hair, like he’s trying to shield me from the pain, the betrayal.

“He asked me if I remembered him,” I whisper.

“It happened almost like this, didn’t it?”

The memory flickers like a faulty light bulb, distant yet hauntingly familiar.

My mind races through memories I buried. A fog lifts just enough for clarity to break through.

“Speak to me, princess. Please.” Asher’s voice is urgent yet soothing.

“I think he used to stalk me.” The words tumble out before I can stop them, each syllable heavy with a weight I never wanted to carry. “There was this one time in my twenties when a man did the same thing to me, but …” My voice trails off as horror washes over me again, flooding my mind with memories I’d rather forget. “I couldn’t describe him to anyone. It all happened so fast; it was like trying to catch smoke with my bare hands. ”

Asher holds me tighter, his arms like a fortress as sobs tear through me like glass.

“Shh. It’s okay. It’s fine. You’re safe, my love.” His voice is calm.

“Ash,” I say between gasps for air, the panic clawing at my throat, “I don’t think those texts were from Josh. Or the flowers in London.” The realization is gut-wrenching, a sickening twist that makes my stomach churn. “I think they came from Micah.”

The thought is like ice in my veins.

“And now he has Harper.”

My heart races as I look into his eyes, searching for answers. “All those years ago, he threatened to steal everything I loved if I told anyone what he’d done.”

The memory of his voice sends shivers down my spine.

I can see the anger bubbling beneath his surface.

“Billie, I’m so sorry. I should’ve protected you fro?—”

“This isn’t your fault,” I whisper.

Asher cups my face in his hands, his touch warm, steadying me against the fear that threatens to take me under.

“You stayed in Stanford that summer while I came back to the city.”

My mind races back to that time. Harper had insisted I go to the police, but how could I describe someone whose face was lost in shadows?

“My brain blocked it all out. I’d forgotten completely.”

“I love you,” he whispers gently, placing soft kisses on my forehead, each a tiny promise to protect me from the past that still haunts me. “It’s not your fault.”

“I love you,” I say, crying.

“Shh.” He soothes me again when fresh waves of panic hit me, the memories crashing over me like waves. “He had no right to touch you—ever.”

Rage simmers in his voice as he vows between clenched teeth, “I will chop off every single one of his fucking fingers when I find him. ”

“We have to get Harper away from that man. I’m so worried about her,” I say through ragged breaths.

Asher cracks his knuckles, eyes hardening into steel determination. His jaw is set. I haven’t seen him this angry for as long as I’ve known him.

“He will pay for what he did to you—past and present.” His words are a vow.

I shake my head. “He’s going to hurt her, Ash. I can’t lose Harper even if she hates me right now.”

The fear of something bad happening to my best friend is almost too much for me to bear.

“Fuck!” His growl is feral, a primal sound that reverberates in the quiet room. “What has Harper gotten herself into?”

Asher turns off the oven and sets the food on top of the stove.

“Come on,” he says, grabbing my hand and guiding me around the glass and spilled champagne.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

He stops and wipes the tears from my cheeks. “To find Brody.”