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CHAPTER ELEVEN

ASH

I arrived in Midtown Manhattan at noon, the weight of the week settling on my shoulders as I passed the polished brass plaque marking the entrance to the club. Inside, the marble floors echoed with each step, a steady cadence that felt too loud in the otherwise hushed elegance of the space. Navigating through the main dining area, I finally stepped out onto the private smoking terrace.

The terrace was secluded. Comfortable, high-backed leather chairs were arranged around low, polished wooden tables, each with a small ashtray and a selection of matches.

Oliver was already there, seated in one of the chairs, a glass of sparkling water within reach. He looked up as I approached, offering a nod and a smile. I joined him, signaling the server for a whiskey before clasping his hand and pulling him into a brief hug as he stood to greet me.

“Good to see you, Ash,” he said warmly.

“Same here, Oli,” I replied, settling into the chair across from him. The server returned with my drink just as I lit a cigarette.

“Did you just get in?” Oli asked.

I nodded, rolling the whiskey glass between my fingers. The past week had been a relentless cycle of my father’s overreach—shadowing me during meetings, second-guessing decisions he claimed to have entrusted to me. Slipping away this morning without him noticing felt like a small rebellion.

“Only just,” I said. “How’s the wedding planning coming along?”

“It’s good. Char and Margaret are handling most of it,” Oliver said, his smile softening as he spoke of his fiancée. “I thought you could come with me to the tailor if you have time.” He took a sip of water, his thumb idly rubbing the rim of the glass.

“Of course I have time. Just give Ari the details, and I’ll be there,” I said with a grin. “You know I’ll take any excuse to ditch work and go shopping.”

He shook his head, laughing lightly.

“Aren’t you having a drink?” I asked, eyeing his glass pointedly.

Oli shrugged but raised his hand to order a whiskey. I arched an eyebrow at him.

“I need to have a chat with you, Ash. I think whiskey is in order,” he admitted.

My stomach tightened. If this was about Ethan again, whiskey was definitely in order.

“Is it about your bachelor party?” I asked quickly, preempting the conversation. “Because I’ve already rented a villa in St. Barts. Ari’s handling the logistics. Charlie gave me the dates and the guest list.”

Oliver blinked in surprise. “How did you manage that in a week?”

Chuckling, I exhaled a plume of smoke. “I’m nothing if not diligent.”

His expression softened momentarily, but the way his fingers fidgeted against the glass betrayed his unease. “Ash, I’ve been talking with Dad a lot this week,” he began cautiously.

That , I hadn’t seen coming.

I shifted in my seat, my mind sharpening. “About what?”

Oli cracked his knuckles, and I braced myself for what was coming.

“He wants me to come in as your replacement as CFO,” he said, the words rushed as if to lessen their impact.

A hollow feeling settled in my chest, but I masked it. I’d known this was coming. Our father had delayed the hire for months, tying me to the role and stalling my takeover as CEO. I knew he wanted Oliver to work with us; he’d wanted it for years.

“I don’t want this to be a problem between us,” he said, holding my gaze.

“It’s not a problem for me,” I assured him—a half-truth.

Oliver sighed, accepting his drink and nearly draining it in one go. “Are you sure about that?” His forefinger tapped absently on the glass.

“Absolutely. You’re already the person I count on for advice. Having you officially in the fold is ideal,” I said sincerely. That much was true, even if it didn’t account for the larger concerns.

“That’s good to hear. I was worried you’d be mad,” he admitted.

“Why would I be mad? Have you agreed yet?”

“No, I wanted to talk to you first.”

I smiled genuinely. Oliver was the epitome of a gentleman—loyal to a fault. My concern was where his loyalties would lie in the end. Our father had an uncanny ability to turn people’s positive traits into liabilities.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Oli.”

He finished his drink, setting the glass down carefully while watching me. “I’m not after your title, Ash. You’ve earned it, and I respect that. I’m not looking to challenge you. I want this for you.”

“I know you’re not, but we both know that’s not the real issue. The problem is what Dad wants,” I pointed out.

Oliver’s gaze remained steady. “You know you come first. You and Henny have always come first to me. It’s not going to change now,” he assured me.

I relaxed back into my chair, taking another drag before looking away. “I realize you look better on paper, Oli. I’m not an idiot, especially now that you’re getting married.”

He rolled his eyes. “I have less than half your experience. Dad can be many things, but he’s not stupid.”

“Here’s the thing,” I began, swirling the whiskey in my glass. “Dad’s strategy is to bring you in so he can tighten his grip on the company. I’m CEO in name, but he’s still calling the shots. If I slip up, he has a backup to sideline me and promote you as the respectable face of the business. That’s his play.”

Oliver shook his head. “I’m not his puppet, Ash. Don’t paint it like that.”

I met his gaze evenly. “I’m not saying you are, but he’s the ultimate puppet master. He’s been pulling my strings for years.”

He waved a dismissive hand. “There’s no controlling you, Ash.”

“He does, more than you’d think,” I said quietly. “Do you believe you’re exempt? Because if you do, Oli, I’d advise against taking this job. There are a lot of strings attached.”

“I know, Ash. It’s not like I’m devoid of them.”

“Anyway, that’s not the point. I’m happy to have you on board. If anything, I’ll have more free time. I trust you more than most.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really?”

I crushed the cigarette in the ashtray, exhaling the last drag with finality. “Yes, really. Why does that surprise you?”

He leaned back slightly, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. “I thought you didn’t trust anybody, except for Henny.”

“I trust you,” I replied without hesitation. “I would never trust Henny with my job. I trust him with other things.” A small smile played on my lips.

Oliver shook his head, mirroring my faint smile. “You don’t give him enough credit. He’s not just good for parties,” he said, almost defensively.

“That’s not why I trust him,” I replied flatly, the smile slipping from my face.

He hesitated, then ventured cautiously, “About that, Ash—you know how you could really get Dad off your back?”

“Not interested,” I cut in promptly.

“He’d rest easier if you settled down a bit,” Oliver continued, ignoring my dismissal. “I’m not saying you have to get married, but at least have a stable relationship with someone age-appropriate.”

A laugh escaped me, sharp and humorless. “I’m not getting into a relationship with someone I don’t like just so Dad can sleep better at night. He’s not the one who has to fuck him, so he gets no say,” I retorted, catching the grimace that flickered across Oliver’s face.

“I’m not suggesting you be with someone you don’t like—” he began, but I interrupted again.

“For the sake of argument,” I said, leaning forward slightly, “let’s say the person I like is your fiancée’s little brother. He has a reputable last name—the same as your future bride—so that shouldn’t be an issue. I could see myself getting serious with him. Would that make it acceptable?”

The color drained from his face. “Ash,” he warned, his tone tight.

“I’m not saying I am,” I continued coolly, “but the fact is, that’s the kind of person I want to take to bed. I don’t want whatever suitable alternative Dad has lined up.”

His frown deepened. “So it has to be someone half your age?”

“No,” I said simply, “but it’ll likely be someone neither of you approve of.”

Oliver leaned back, rubbing his temple. “It’s not just about Dad, Ash. If you want to be taken seriously, you can’t date guys like Ethan.”

“Why not?” I challenged. “I’m the same person. I perform the same, achieve the same results. Why should it matter?”

“Because you’re the face of the company,” he said firmly. “It makes shareholders question your judgment—your maturity.”

I stared at him, irritation bubbling under the surface. “Do you know how many of those men take second wives less than half their age?”

“Yes, when they’re fifty, dating twenty-five-year-olds—not thirty-five, dating a kid who’s barely started college,” he shot back sharply.

“I’m thirty-four,” I corrected.

“ That’s your argument?” he asked, incredulous. He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “If it were anyone else, I’d tell you to get it out of your system and move on.”

I blinked at him. “What?”

“You can’t do this with him,” he said. “It’s not just his age, Ash. He’s becoming part of our family—my family. And Ethan isn’t like that. He’s not the type for one-night stands or casual flings.”

Oliver’s voice softened as he added, “Char and Ethan’s parents divorced because their mom had an affair. He was still living with them when it happened. It was really hard on him. It still is. He’s a young man who barely acknowledges his own issues. And you’re not looking for a serious relationship. The only thing you’ll bring into his life is heartbreak when he realizes that.”

The puzzle pieces fell into place. Ethan’s jealousy, his need for control.

“Oli—” I began, but he cut me off.

“I’m serious,” he insisted. “I know you’re not always honest with me about these things. I know why you and Henry spend so much time together, and I’ve let it go. But this…this is different. It’s always been us—you, me, and Henny. That’s our circle. But mine is expanding with Charlotte, and I need you not to cross this line.”

The weight of his words pressed heavily on my chest. Maybe I wouldn’t have let it go for my father or the company, but for Oliver, I had to.

“I’ll back off,” I said softly.

His shoulders relaxed slightly. “Thank you.”

“For the sake of honesty, you should know it’s already been happening, but I’ll put a stop to it,” I added, watching him tense again.

“Shit, I knew it,” he muttered, waving the server over for another drink.

“It hasn’t gone too far. Relax,” I said with a chuckle.

“What does ‘not too far’ mean, Ash?”

“We haven’t slept together. Just talked.”

He raised an eyebrow skeptically. “So that whole incident when he was drunk?”

“He was grappling with being attracted to me,” I explained. “I didn’t get him drunk. That was his doing. I got him out of my room. I wasn’t about to take advantage of him.”

He exhaled, rubbing his forehead. “For fuck’s sake.”

“I’m serious, Oli. I don’t manipulate men into sleeping with me. Ethan has been making the calls so far,” I said firmly.

“Right, so that bracelet he was wearing was purely coincidental?”

I chuckled into my drink. “I’ll put a stop to it,” I repeated simply.

“So did he come to terms with it?”

“Yes, he has.”

“So this is already going to be a mess.”

“It doesn’t have to be. I’ll talk to him. Ethan’s smart. He’ll understand,” I assured him, though he seemed doubtful.

“Do you promise, Ash? Promise you’ll stop?” he pressed.

“Yes, Oli. I promise,” I said, noticing his faint smile of relief.

“You owe me one,” I added, and he chuckled, the tension easing.

“Actually, Charlotte has a friend she’d like to introduce you to,” he said, grinning.

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on, how do you know you’re not interested if you don’t give it a chance?”

He kept trying to persuade me as I continued to refuse. I forced a smile throughout our conversation, but honestly, I was deeply disappointed. Kissing Ethan had been the highlight of my year so far—probably more than that.

And now I had to give it up.

For Oliver. For the family. For the company.

It still didn’t sound fair to me.