🔥 CHAPTER FIVE
ASHER P.O.V
I was just about to leave when my phone rang.
Clara.
I almost ignored it.
Almost.
With a quiet sigh, I answered.
"What is it?" I said flatly.
"Hey, Asher… are you still at the mansion?" she asked.
Her tone was too careful.
Too deliberate.
That alone made me suspicious.
"Yes," I replied slowly. "Why?"
There was a brief pause before she spoke again.
"I was wondering… can you please pick Alexia up?"
My expression hardened instantly.
"No."
I was already pulling the phone away from my ear, ready to hang up—
"I'll tell you everything I've been up to this past year if you pick her up!"
I paused.
But only for a second.
"I don't care," I said, my patience thinning.
"You heartless snob!" she snapped. "You don't even care what happens to your little sister? What if I was dead? Would you have liked that?!"
My grip on the phone tightened slightly.
"Please," she added quickly, her voice softening. "Pretty please… just pick her up."
Silence stretched between us.
Annoying.
Persistent.
Relentless.
"Fine," I said coldly. "I'll pick her up. Just stop pestering me."
I ended the call before she could say anything else.
"I don't have time for this," I muttered under my breath.
There were still things I needed to handle before leaving.
Things far more important than playing chauffeur.
I pulled up in front of the mansion, the engine humming softly beneath me.
And waited.
Like some—
Driver.
My jaw tightened slightly at the thought.
Minutes passed.
Then—
I saw her.
Descending the stairs, struggling slightly with her suitcase.
Pathetic.
That was my first thought.
But then—
She looked up.
And our eyes met.
Everything stilled.
Sapphire.
That was the only word that came to mind.
Her eyes were a striking shade of blue—clear, bright, almost unreal.
For a brief moment—
I forgot to look away.
They were… too pure.
Too innocent.
It didn't match.
Not with the girl who had punched me earlier.
Her long black hair was tied neatly into a high ponytail, framing her face perfectly.
She looked—
Different.
Completely different.
Not the reckless, fiery girl from this morning.
And yet—
I knew it was her.
It had to be.
Because no one else would dare look at me like that.
Then it hit me.
I had been staring.
For too long.
And judging by the way she was looking back—
So had she.
"Take a picture," I said coldly. "It'll last longer."
She didn't miss a beat.
"Says the person who was gawking not long ago."
A small, almost invisible smirk tugged at my lips.
Yes.
Same girl.
Same attitude.
Stupidly brave.
I turned away, dismissing the moment.
"Get in."
"What?" she asked, clearly caught off guard.
I didn't bother repeating myself.
Didn't explain.
Didn't look at her again.
I simply got into the car and started the engine.
A few seconds later—
The passenger door opened.
Then closed.
Good.
At least she wasn't completely slow.
Silence filled the car.
But it wasn't comfortable.
It was sharp.
Tense.
The kind of silence that felt like something was waiting to snap.
I broke it.
"What have you girls been up to this past year?" I asked, my voice calm—but deliberate.
I wanted answers.
And I would get them.
"Aha," she said lightly. "I knew there was something."
I glanced at her briefly.
"So what is this?" she continued. "An interrogation or something?"
I let out a quiet scoff.
"If I wanted to interrogate you," I said coldly, my eyes returning to the road, "you wouldn't be sitting here with all your limbs intact."
Silence.
Heavier this time.
More real.
More dangerous.
"I simply want to know," I continued, my tone dropping slightly, "what kind of people my sister has been associating with."
I paused.
Then added—
"And whether you're one of them."