Pennedby\_Precious

Chapter 194

Chapter 194: Chapter 194


ASHLEY


"What?" I snap, lunging to my feet. My eyes sizzle with anger. "What do you mean you’re hiring a manager to oversee MY company? You can’t do that!"


"I can, Ashley, and I will." Father replies bluntly as his eyes dart around my work space. I hadn’t expected him to show up suddenly in the middle of the day or to come to such a rash decision just when I am starting to see glimpses of a clothing line I might be inspired to create. My sketchpad has gone through a couple of torn pages before I finally drew something akin to a vision of the new line.


"Sales are not slow on your end; they’re practically inexistent now. We’re out of stock for most of the highly sought-after designs at the walk-in stores. The customer support of this company’s website is a mad house. There’s an egregious number of complaints yet no one has deigned to give appropriate replies." He leers at me with a clenched jaw. "Every single time a woman breaks your heart, you let your emotions affect a billion-dollar company I built from the ground up with my sweat. That ends now. I need someone who knows how to keep his feelings in check and run a business professionally."


"Father!"


"Someone who knows not to mix business with pleasure, especially at the work place!" His eyes flash angrily as it stays on me. I dip mine, aware that he is referring to the scene where he walked in on me smashing my third assistant in the last two weeks.


Somehow, I become reluctant to work with them after we have sex.


"You might be my son but you clearly lack what it takes to run a company long term without making stupid decisions because of women."


"I’m sorry, okay? I was dealing with stuff but it’s over now. I’ve got the clarity I wanted. I’m good now."


"I DON’T CARE, Ash. I’ve heard that line countless times and given you countless opportunities but you always fail me. And you know what’s funny? Ashal has been through much worse than you in the last few years yet his company still does very well at the end of each quarter. You see, you have no justifiable excuse for your incompetence."


My eyes darken at the harsh comparison. "Really? Now, it’s Ashal and not Asher?" I chuckle dryly. "For the longest time, you loathed Ashal because of his illness. You never gave him a breathing space, always blaming him for his condition and indirectly referring to him as a monster. Even when he outperformed Asher, you continually recognized Asher globally as your right-hand man. Now, you suddenly want to unlock a new level of being a pathetic father by using Ashal to shame me?"


I shake my head in disbelief. "You have no idea the battles my brothers and I face on a daily basis but more importantly, you have no right to tell us how to respond or react to our battles. YES, I am not Asher, Ashton or Ashal but telling me that Ashal’s been through worse than me is BULLSHIT! Yeah, he suffered through a medical condition he never asked for and because of that, his love life was always hard. But everyone excused most of his incompetence." Tears sting my eyes. "I was sexually assaulted as a child by your best friend. I’ll always wonder if you truly never knew about it..."


"Ashley!"


"Well, it fucked me up for life. Things like that have lifetime consequences, father, but somehow everyone expects me to suck it up and move on. You all think it should be easy for me to pretend that it never happened. You hold me to even higher standards than those who never have to go about their day questioning their manhood while haunted by nightmares from their childhood trauma. I know Ashal has been through a great deal but at least he didn’t lose his unborn kid. I lost mine, TWICE."


Nicci might have lied about her pregnancy but I swear I formed a bond with a child that didn’t even exist. If Ashal can still be in shock and feeling the pain of losing loved ones even though it was a close shave, then my paternal attachment to my fake baby with Nicci is just as valid.


I keep my eyes on father knowing he will never know the truth about Nicci’s baby, mother too.


"I always get played by the women I genuinely give my heart to. Yet, you wonder why I struggle to form a connection with one woman?" I scoff at him. "Like things can’t get any bleaker for me, you want to take the only thing that keeps me sane?" I can’t believe how unfazed he is despite how difficult it is for me to be vulnerable with him. "Go right ahead, Brett Rolins. Your company will always come first, won’t it?"


Grabbing my jacket off my chair, I toss it over my shoulder and brush past him.


"Don’t you dare walk out on me!"


"Or what, Brett?" I match the fire in his eyes. "You’ll ask your goons to restrain me? You’ll disown me for sport and dangle my inheritance like a carrot while making me grovel at your feet begging for it? Or, you’ll hand it all over to your real son to show me my place? Do whatever the fuck you want. There’s nothing left for me to lose anyway. Ignoring his calls, I storm out of what used to be MY company.


My safe space. My little slice of the world. It was also gone. What the hell am I supposed to do? I have no idea. Though I had spouted a few brave words in front of father, heaven knows I don’t feel brave, or strong.


The second I get behind the wheels, my hands begin to tremble. This is my limit. I’m not sure I can take the pain, the betrayal and the overwhelming disappointments anymore. I pull out of the VIP garage and zoom off before anyone can see me bawling.


***


It’s pitch black and raining heavily outside. For the last three hours, I’ve been staring at glass of beer, watching the froth fizzle away while nestled at a local downtown bar people hardly visit.


My phone died after a disturbing number of missed calls. I’ve been feeling numb and empty for the last few hours, gaping at the empty bar and back to my drink, wondering what I am doing.


A myriad of thoughts have gone through my head in the last few hours. I can’t seem to escape the crippling fear that I am nothing alone.


Without Brett’s last name, I would be nothing. Without my brothers filling my life with equal parts drama and intrigue, Danvarr wouldn’t find me particularly interesting enough.


Sometimes I wonder where my trauma stops and where my innate deficiency begins. Is my past largely to blame for my woeful existence or is that just a lie I’ve let myself believe as a coping mechanism?


Frustrated, I reach for my beer to drain it in as few gulps as possible, hoping to block the searing pain crawling up my chest. Bust as soon as my fingers wrap around the glass, someone forcefully yanks it out of my grip and downs it loudly to my horror.


With a small belch, Iman sets the glass down and smacks his lips. Where the fuck did he even come from?


"If you wanted to drink it, you’d have had it already."


Bile tickles the back of my throat over his effrontery but as hard as I try, I can’t seem to muster the strength to challenge his action. So, instead of smashing his face in, I get on my feet and turn to leave.


"It’s Demi, isn’t it?"


I whip my head instantly, surprised at his outburst. A small smile tugs at the corners of his lip. "The diamond encrusted knuckle rings are a fashion trend your brothers refuse to buy into so they’re kind of a tell for you, Ashley Rollins." His face is devoid of the roguish grin I have come to expect from him.


"Please" He gestures towards the bar stool. "I haven’t got a job so I have all the time in the world to listen to you yap about whatever and whoever is responsible for that sour look on your face. Indulge me. I’ll buy you another beer if it makes you feel better."


"Like I need your money..."


"Oh, hell no you don’t." He agrees, "I don’t even have much left thanks to Ashal for laying me off." At the curious arch of my brow, he continues, "Janitor in his office? He fired me once he returned and found out but let’s not digress. Fact is, I tried to do honest labor and it didn’t work out. I guess the universe making us run into each other as depressed men wallowing from a silent pain that can easily be traced back to Demi Branson is a neon sign that we are meant to help each other."


I’d have spit on his shoes if I was crass. "You’ve clearly lost your mind to alcohol if you think...’


"You’re probably right." He immediately agrees again, cutting me off. I ignore the sting from his rude interruption. "I couldn’t possibly help you. If you were dumb enough to marry that woman, you probably need a medical check from at least three of your overpaid foreign doctors..." He catches my wrist before I can deliver a punch to his face.


Grinning, he winks at me. "Apparently, someone wants to get even. So, I’ll ask for the last time Ashley Rollins, do you require my services to get back at Demi or anyone else? Yes or No?"


My eyes narrow to slits as I yank my hand free.


I square my shoulders and give him a burning look. "Quit blaming everyone but yourself for your shitty life. If you were any good at executing tasks, I’m sure Asher would have kept you in his employ." A sting flashes in his eyes as I continue.


"And even if I was interested in getting back at my ex-wife, best believe I know how to go about it and where to find competent set of hands to do any dirty work required. Now, get out of my face!"


I make it as far as two feet when I hear him expel a deep breath behind me.


"Was going to save the best move for the last so here it goes. You need me, Ashley. I’ve got some intel that could keep you and your brothers out of jail. Walk away and you’d never find out."


When I continue to leave, not buying into his desperate lies, he hustles after me.


"There’s raw CCTV footage that shows one of you quads assaulting a man in the trunk of a car shortly before he was found dead. The dead guy’s brother happens to be a cop and after months of digging, he finally unearthed the proof to show that his late brother didn’t overdose on hard drugs. The cop’s coming for you guys, whomever the real culprit is. One thing was certain in the video; the culprit is one of the Rollins quads. At this point, I don’t think the cop really cares who as long as he locks up a face like yours behind bars."


My blood runs cold as I turn to Iman. Madeline’s dead boyfriend’s brother found evidence against Ashal?