I stood there, unable to move.
The music still pounded through the club, but it sounded far away now, muffled beneath the rush of blood in my ears. My pulse refused to settle. My hands trembled at my sides, and I could still feel the ghost of that man's grip around my wrist.
People were staring.
Not just staring.
Recording.
Small screens glowed all around us as phones lifted into the air. Whispers rippled through the crowd.
"Isn't that Asher Hayes?"
"He actually punched someone."
"Who's the girl?"
The murmurs wrapped around me until my chest felt too tight to breathe.
I wanted to disappear.
Security rushed past us, several guards grabbing the man before he could stumble forward again. He struggled against them, shouting words I could barely make out over the music.
"You think this is over, Hayes?"
"I know who you are!"
"I'll remember this!"
His voice echoed through the room before the guards dragged him toward the exit.
I flinched.
Only then did I realize someone was standing close enough that the crowd couldn't reach me.
Asher.
He wasn't touching me anymore.
He had stepped slightly in front of me instead, broad shoulders blocking most of the curious faces. His posture was rigid, every muscle in his body tense.
His jaw looked like it had been carved from stone.
I had never seen him like this before.
Usually he carried himself with an almost unsettling calm, like nothing in the world could rattle him.
Tonight...
Tonight there was something dangerous beneath that calm.
His storm-gray eyes swept across the room, taking in every face, every phone, every person who tried to step closer.
It almost looked like he was counting exits.
Or threats.
My throat tightened.
"Asher..."
The word came out quieter than I intended.
He turned immediately.
The hardness in his expression softened just enough when his eyes met mine.
"Are you hurt?"
I blinked.
"No."
He didn't answer right away.
His gaze traveled over my face, then my arms, lingering briefly on the wrist the man had grabbed.
"You sure?"
I nodded.
"I..." My voice cracked. "I'm okay."
I wasn't.
But I wanted to be.
Before either of us could say another word, a familiar voice cut through the crowd.
"Amara!"
June.
She pushed past a small group of people, her eyes wide with panic.
The moment she reached me, she wrapped both arms around me so tightly I almost lost my balance.
"Oh, my God."
She pulled back just enough to cup my face.
"Are you okay?"
I tried to answer.
Instead, tears blurred my vision.
I hadn't even realized I was holding them back until that moment.
A woman escorted us to a private lounge,
"I'm okay," I whispered, though it sounded more like a question than an answer.
June's expression crumpled.
"No," she said gently. "You're shaken."
She pulled me into another hug.
I buried my face against her shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of vanilla perfume and coffee.
For the first time since the man had grabbed me, I felt safe enough to breathe.
"I'm sorry," I murmured.
She frowned.
"For what?"
"I ruined tonight."
"You did nothing wrong."
Her voice left no room for argument.
"Nothing."
A few feet away, I heard someone approach.
"Mr. Hayes."
I looked up.
A man in a dark suit. He looked to be in his late forties, composed despite everything that had just happened.
"The vehicle is ready."
Asher gave a short nod.
The man turned toward June and me.
"My name is Daniel," he said politely. "Mr. Hayes has asked me to make sure both of you arrive back at your residence safely."
June glanced at Asher before looking back at the man.
"That's really not necessary—"
Asher, who had been standing off to the side on the call with someone for the last ten minutes since we were escorted to the lounge, immediately interrupted quietly, "It is."
There was no arrogance in his tone.
Just certainty.
"I'd rather know you both got back safely."
June looked at me.
I could tell she was silently asking whether I was comfortable.
I nodded faintly.
Honestly, I wasn't sure I wanted to be alone right now.
Daniel gestured toward the private exit.
"If you'll follow me."
Before I moved, I looked back at Asher.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
There were a hundred questions tangled inside my head.
Why had he been there?
Why had he looked... furious?
None of them made it past my lips.
"Thank you," I managed.
His expression remained unreadable, but his eyes softened.
"You don't have to thank me."
Something about the way he said it made my chest ache.
As though helping me had never been a choice in his mind.
June gently took my hand.
"Come on."
I nodded.
We followed Daniel through a quiet hallway that led away from the crowded lounge. The music faded with every step until all that remained was the soft sound of our footsteps against polished marble floors.
Outside, the cool night air hit my face.
A sleek black sedan waited by the curb.
Daniel opened the rear door.
June climbed in first, then I slid in beside her.
Just before the door closed, I looked back.
Asher was still standing beneath the soft lights outside Blond.
His suit jacket hung open, his hands now tucked into his pockets, but his posture remained tense.
Security formed a discreet barrier around him.
For one brief second, our eyes met across the distance.
Then Daniel closed the door, shutting out the noise of the city.
—
The next morning, I woke with a dull ache behind my eyes.
For a few blissful seconds, I stared at the ceiling, too sleepy to think.
Then everything came rushing back.
Blond.
The drunk man.
His hand wrapped around my wrist.
Asher.
The punch.
People shouting.
Phones pointed at us.
My stomach twisted.
I groaned softly and buried my face into the pillow.
"What a nightmare," I muttered.
I stayed there for another minute, hoping yesterday would somehow feel less real if I delayed getting up.
It did not.
Eventually, I dragged myself out of bed and walked toward the window.
There were more people outside the dorm than usual.
Students mostly.
Some stood in small groups talking. A few looked toward the entrance before returning to whatever they were discussing.
I frowned.
Weird.
Maybe there was some campus event.
Shrugging it off, I grabbed fresh clothes and took a quick shower. The warm water helped ease the tension in my shoulders, but it did nothing for the knot sitting stubbornly in my chest.
By the time I walked into the small kitchen, June was already there.
She wasn't making breakfast.
She wasn't humming like she usually did.
She was sitting perfectly still at the counter, staring at her phone.
Her coffee had gone cold.
My stomach sank immediately.
June never ignored coffee.
"June?"
She looked up.
The second our eyes met, I knew.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
"Morning," she said, trying far too hard to sound normal.
"What happened?"
"Nothing."
I folded my arms.
"You are a terrible liar."
She sighed and rubbed a hand over her face.
"I was hoping you'd eat first."
"June."
She hesitated for another second before silently turning her phone toward me.
I looked down.
My heart stopped.
Every headline was about last night.
TECH CEO ASHER HAYES PUNCHES JAMES MAXWELL AT BLOND.
WHO IS THE MYSTERY GIRL?
VIDEO OF ALTERCATION REACHES TWO MILLION VIEWS OVERNIGHT.
THE MAN WHO NEVER LOSES HIS TEMPER FINALLY DOES.
My hands immediately went cold.
"What..."
I picked up the phone with trembling fingers.
There were videos.
Hundreds of comments.
Thousands.
I watched one clip.
It showed James grabbing my wrist.
Then—
Asher stepping between us.
The video ended the second James swung at him.
The comments were endless.
"I've never seen Asher Hayes hit anyone."
"Who is she?"
"James deserved it."
"Is the girl okay?"
"Someone find out who she is."
"Poor thing looked terrified."
"Asher actually lost his temper..."
I kept scrolling.
There were pictures.
Blurry photos of Asher leading me outside.
Pictures of him holding my wrist.
Videos from different angles.
People slowing the footage down.
Analyzing it.
Talking about it.
Talking about...
Me.
"Oh, my God."
My voice barely came out.
June gently took the phone from my hands before I dropped it.
"I know."
"No..."
I shook my head.
"No, no, no..."
My breathing became uneven.
"This can't be happening."
"It'll die down."
"It won't!"
I looked at her, panic rising higher with every heartbeat.
"They know my face."
"They don't know much about you."
"They will."
June didn't answer.
That scared me more than if she had.
I looked back toward the window.
Those students outside suddenly didn't feel random anymore.
Were they...
Looking for me?
A chill crawled down my spine.
I wrapped my arms around myself.
Then another headline caught my eye.
JAMES MAXWELL, SON OF BILLIONAIRE RICHARD MAXWELL, INVOLVED IN ALTERCATION.
I frowned.
"...Who's James Maxwell?"
June looked uncomfortable.
"You don't know?"
I slowly shook my head.
"I had no idea who that man was."
She took a slow breath.
"The Maxwells are... powerful."
"Powerful how?"
"They own half the city."
I stared at her.
"What?"
"Not literally," she clarified quickly. "But Richard Maxwell is one of the richest businessmen in New York. Politics. Construction. Hotels. Investments. He has connections everywhere."
My stomach dropped.
"And..."
She hesitated.
"James is his only son."
I felt sick.
"Asher punched..."
"Richard Maxwell's son."
I sat down so quickly that the chair scraped loudly against the floor.
"Oh, my God."
The room suddenly felt too small.
"Asher knew."
June stayed quiet.
"He had to know."
Still silence.
"He knew exactly who he was punching."
I buried my face in my hands.
"This is my fault."
"No."
"If I hadn't gone..."
"No."
"If I hadn't worn that dress..."
"Amara."
"If I had just walked away sooner-"
"Amara."
"If Asher hadn't"
"It's not your fault."
My voice cracked.
"But because of me,"
Before I could finish, June crossed the kitchen in two quick steps and wrapped both arms around me.
She hugged me so tightly that I couldn't move.
For a moment, I simply sat there.
Then everything inside me seemed to collapse.
"I didn't know who he was," I whispered against her shoulder.
"I know."
"I didn't want anyone getting hurt."
"I know."
"I didn't ask Asher to do that."
"I know."
She rubbed slow circles against my back the way my mother used to when I was younger.
"You didn't cause this."
"It feels like I did."
"It wasn't your fault that a man put his hands on you."
I closed my eyes.
"It wasn't your fault that Asher chose to protect you."
A tear slipped down my cheek.
June pulled back just enough to look at me.
"We'll figure this out."
"What if this gets worse?"
"Then we'll deal with it."
"What if the Maxwells come after Asher?"
She didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and gave me the smallest, most reassuring smile she could manage.
"One thing at a time."
I nodded weakly.
But as I looked at the phone lying on the counter, notifications still pouring in every few seconds, I couldn't shake the feeling that last night hadn't ended outside Blond.
It had only just begun.