Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
His jaw tightens, and I can see the flash of anger in his eyes. “You don’t understand, Charlotte. If you don’t break things off with Asher and marry me, I will destroy your father’s company.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and for a second, I can’t breathe. I knew Wade was manipulative, but this? This is low, even for him.
“Y-you wouldn’t,” I manage to say, my voice shaking despite my best efforts to stay calm.
Is it even possible?
He smirks, leaning in closer. “Try me.”
I stand frozen, my heart racing, as he turns and walks away, leaving me there in the middle of the garden, feeling like my whole world is about to collapse.
I don’t know how long I stand there, but the next thing I know, I hear footsteps again. This time, though, it’s Asher. He steps out from behind one of the garden arches, his face set in a grim line.
He smiles, and then when he gets a better look at me, his smile falters. “You okay?” he asks, his voice low and full of concern.
I nod, even though I’m definitely not okay. My hands are shaking, and I feel like I might fall apart at any second. “I’m fine,” I lie, trying to brush it off. “It’s nothing.”
But Asher doesn’t buy it. He steps closer, his eyes scanning my face like he’s trying to read every emotion I’m trying to hide. “Charlotte, what did he say to you?”
I look away, trying to keep my composure, but it’s too much. The fear, the frustration, the helplessness—it all comes rushing in, and before I know it, tears are stinging my eyes.
“Who?” I ask. Did Asher see Wade? Did he overhear him?
“I saw him walking away.” He steps closer, his brows furrowing in an undeniably sexy way. “Tell me.”
“He threatened my father’s company,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “If I don’t marry him, he’ll destroy everything.”
There. I said it. And now it feels like the weight of the world is pressing down on me.
Asher doesn’t say anything for a moment, but I feel his hand on my arm, grounding me, keeping me from falling apart. “That son of a—” he starts, but cuts himself off. “Charlotte, he’s not going to touch your family. I won’t let him.”
I shake my head, trying to pull away, but Asher doesn’t let me go. He steps in closer, his hand moving from my arm to cup my cheek, gently forcing me to look at him.
“Hey,” he says softly, his voice suddenly much closer. “You’re not alone in this, okay? We’ll figure it out.”
The intensity in his gray eyes makes it hard to breathe. He’s so close now, closer than we’ve been since this whole fake engagement started, and for a second, I forget that this is all pretend. I forget that we’re only supposed to be acting.
I’m suddenly hyper-aware of how strong his hand feels against my skin, how steady he is when I’m falling apart. There’s a heat between us, a tension that wasn’t there before, and it’s dangerous. I can feel it in the way his thumb lightly brushes my cheek, the way his gaze flickers down to my lips for the briefest second before returning to my eyes.
I should say something—push him away, remind him (and myself) that this is pretend. Just a carefully constructed story we’re both meant to play out, nothing more. But the words dissolve on my tongue before they ever take shape.
I can’t move.
I don’t want to move.
Instead, I lean into his touch—just for a heartbeat—letting my body betray every sharp-edged warning in my mind. His palm is warm against my cheek, grounding, steady. And for this small, selfish moment, I let myself soak in that comfort. That safety. Something I hadn’t realized I was desperate for until now.
“Asher…” I manage, though my voice catches, thick with emotions I don’t dare name.
“Shh,” he whispers, voice a deep velvet against the fragile edges of the night. His thumb brushes across my bottom lip with a slow, deliberate pass, the slightest pressure making my breath stutter and my pulse jump. A shiver ripples down my spine, heat pooling low in my belly.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmurs, gaze locked with mine, steady as stone. “I’ve got you.”
And heaven help me, I believe him. In this moment, I trust him more than I should. The terrifying part is how much I want to believe him.
But this heat between us, this pull that’s not part of the plan. It’s a line we’re not supposed to cross, no matter how easy it would be to let myself fall.
So I do the only thing I can. I break the spell.
I pull back—just enough. Just far enough to breathe without drowning in the weight of that look in his eyes. “Thank you,” I whisper, voice barely there as I step out of his hold.