NovelBookChapter 8: Chapter 8
ASHER
"She hasn't cout of her room yet. Keeps sending away the maids and won't even let mom in."
‘Amateur’ | think in my head as Ashley drones on about Demi over the phone. Poor thing. This is her first brush
with the cold reality of being famous. Online trolls always go for the jugular, especially the ones hiding behind a
fake account. | want to feel sorry for Demi but frankly, | have bigger problems to worry about. While she is busy
sobbing over a few nasty comments about her body and face, | am fiddling a small envelop in my hand while |
take this call. The contents of this envelop will make normal people cry and for the weak ones, it will drive them
to depression and ultimately suicide. | don't have that luxury. | have three brothers that | believe can't function
properly without my constant voice in their heads.
"Frankly, | think this isn't such a bad thing." Rising, | spin to enjoy the wuthering height of the Rollins Group HQ
through the glass walls and the mesmerizing view of distant skyscrapers towering above the bustling city
beneath. | live for this heady view each day and the powerful feeling that accompanies it.
"What do you mean?" Ashely enquires.
"Isn't this what we want? To get her to leave our family on her own steam?" | tuck the envelop into my pocket
hoping for the out of sight and out of mind effect and twitch my suit jacket closer. "At least this way we don't get
our hands dirty. We'll leave it to our fans to play Russian roulette with her mental health. | doubt even the fierce
Demi Branson can withstand their torture."
Ashley huffs out a breath. "And father? He's fine with the ?"
"He's never fine with anything that doesn't pad his account and you know it." A soft rap on my door has me
turning and the sight of Josh Randall's face drains the humor in mine. My head steams with annoyance as he
helps himself to a seat while | wrap up my call with Ashley. "Let's tackle this in the group tonight. Later Ash." |
hang up the phone and grit my teeth at my colleague.
Josh's face is fashioned for arrogance almost as much as mine is fashioned for admiration. My eyes dart to his
crossed legs and anger simmers in my gut. | have never disliked a person as much as | dislike Josh. The man is
meticulous at his job and represents my toughest competition every year for best employee of the year award in
the parent company. We go neck-to-neck in our bid to please Mr. Brett Rollins. | admire Josh's work ethic and
dedication which consistently rivals mine. Yet, | can't help but hate him because every t| stare into his face, |
am brutally reminded of what my father looked like in his twenties.
"What can | help you with, Randall?" | snap impatiently at my half-brother. Josh squares his shoulders at the way |
deliberately stretched his last name. A cocky smile plays on his lips as he glares at me.
"Easy bro..."
"DON'T.CALL.ME.THAT!" | growl angrily, jabbing a finger in his face. | hate the guts of this bastard. Josh rises to
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtmeet my eyes. We exchange heated looks for one humming minute, eyes sizzling with rage. | hate that dad
flaunts his infidelity in my face by having Josh work in the headquarters with us. It doesn't make much of a
difference that it was based on the condition that Josh retains his mother's last nto avoid a scandal.
"Fine, Mr. Asher Rollins. | see you're hell bent on keeping your walls up. Don't say | didn't try to be a friend. We
will always be more than colleagues and you know that." He dumps a stack of papers on my table. "Father...the
chairman wants us to get started on the negotiations for the acquisition of the startups on that list." He flails out
his jacket and heads for the door while my eyes stay on him.
He pauses by the door and slides a heated glare my way. "You know, you have no right to walk around here with
that chip on your shoulder or to even look down onwith scorn. | am not a charity case. Unlike you and your
brothers, | actually have Brett Rollins' blood flowing through my veins." He waits a beat to let his words simmer
in the air. | fist my fingers into a ball.
"Watch your mouth."
"Right back at you." Josh replies in hushed tones. "This is my father's company too. Remember that the next
tyou callRandall and maybe I'll ignore the ugly truth about your paternity when | call you Rollins." He
beams atbefore slipping out the door. It takes a lot of restraint to not shove everything off my desk or chuck
my golden nplate at him. In less than twelve months since he resumed, Josh has grown pretty confident
around here, especially since father has grown fond of him. They have lunch together every day since he already
shares breakfast and dinner with mom and his other sons.
When he first confided inmonths back, | couldn't believe my father. | still haven't completely forgiven him for
betraying our family by siring a son outside his marriage but | understand why he wants to be a part of Josh's
life. Josh is a mirror image of father, his biological son. My brothers and | were adopted. Though father may
consider us his sons, seeing him with Josh opened my eyes to the depths of fatherly love Brett Rollins is capable
of which my brothers and | have never received from him. While we were raised with stern looks and beatings to
conform to his image of perfect sons, father has no stringent expectations from Josh. He is more lenient when
Josh errs. He even defends his son's excesses sometimes unlike my brothers and | who have to clean up our own
messes.
Father had beggedto keep this secret from the rest of our family to protect the peace. However, | knew he
was more worried about a scandal erupting and hurting the company's stock price. As a price for keeping his
dirty secret, | made sure he altered his will favorably for my brothers and mom. He also promised to nominate
beat Josh to a bloody pulp every the comes in front ofor tries to putin my place, so to speak.
Rage bubbles in my gut as | pull on my hair. | don't know how much longer | can contain myself. The burden of
keeping most of the ugly secrets of our seemingly perfect family is getting to me.
"Sir, are you alright?" My secretary, Nessa pokes her head in the door.
"Yes, I'm good." But my head swims and my vision go somewhat grey when | turn to face her. | stagger
backwards. Nessa skips across the wide office faster than most average women in stilettos and reaches for my
hand.
"You don't look too good." Her forehead creases with worry. "Do | call the doctor?"
"No!" | lumber to my desk and drop into the seat. Tossing my head backwards, | inhale deeply. "No doctors. I'll be
fine." Nessa lingers, hardly convinced.
"Please Mr. Asher, doctor Arnold is deeply concerned about your test results. He advises that you begin
treatment soon..." One scorching look fromand Nessa's lips stiffen.
"You breathe one word of the state of my health to anyone at all and | will smother the life out of you myself." |
mean it. Her eyes cloud over. When she tries to leave, | grab her hand. "Nessa, | don't want your pity." She
squeezes my hand as a sob rips through her throat.
"Ash, please, | can't lose you."
There it is. Feeling less woozy, | sit upright and grab the files Josh left for me. "I have told you countless times
that it's nothing more than casual sex. You and | aren't a couple. Stop wishing for something more." | add
irritably. Women. Why are they so daft and emotional? | can't afford entanglements. Nothing is more important to
more than father's acknowledgement of Josh's paternity. Those greedy bastards want our lives. His mom wants
the glitz and glamor of being Mrs. Rollins and Josh can't wait to be rid of the famous Danvarr quadruplets. | won't
put it past him to be on the hunt for ways to bring about our ruin and disgrace, especially with the gem in his
hand; the unpleasant truth of our adoption.
He's like father so | know he won't just stop there. He will dig deeper and get his hands dirty unearthing the
identities of our biological parents. | know | would if | were in his shoes. He is ruthless and thorough, again, just
like father. For these reasons and more so for the countdown on my longevity as a living being, | can't afford to
be sidetracked by something as fickle as emotions.
"Get back to work Nessa."
| am surprised she doesn't stumble on her way out given her sobs. | may regret losing out on finding true love
when my eyes close in death but what | can't endure is the thought of my brothers and our mom being forcefully
wrenched away from the quality of life they've only ever known. It will kill mom to learn about the other woman
and the bastard son but at the very least, | want her plotting her revenge from the comfort of a mansion.
| plan on telling my brothers everything eventually. Everything. However, now is a terrible time. | have to keep
playing father's long gof being the perfect son. | can't leave any wiggle room for complaints. | don't plan on
giving him any excuse to exalt Josh's existence or position over that of his true family.
| get down to work. The legal team and | spend hours deliberating on the best startups to acquire with minimum
risks and legal implications. Josh is unfortunately in the meeting. We try not to mix our personal issues with
work. After the meeting, father raps on my office door just as | am shrugging on my jacket to head out for lunch.
"Dad?"
"Off to lunch?"
"Yeah."
"Soul foods?"
I'm touched he remembers. "Actually, no. I'm headed home. Mom is expecting me." Something flits across his
face as he eases a hip at the edge of my desk.
"I was thinking maybe you can join Josh and | for lunch today."
| maintain a bland expression and grab my keys. "That's fine. | wouldn't want to ruin my appetite or your bonding
session."
"Asher. He's your brother. | expect you of all people to be mature about this."
| wheel towards him with an amused smile. "And Josh, what expectations do you have of him or is the burden of
living up to your steep expectations reserved for the sons who you didn't sire? Is Josh perfect because your blood
runs through his veins?"
"I never expected you boys to be perfect. At the very least, | hoped you'd be normal."
"And how are we not?" | shouldn't have asked.
"Why don't you ask Ashal?"
That leaves a cut within me. "It's not his fault and you know it. | can't believe you'd breathe his nlike he's
sferocious animal."
"I'm sorry. | didn't mean it like that. Look, | just chere to ask you to lunch. We don't need this song and
dance."
Father's face hardens when | ignore him. "Josh is right. You're the one who stubbornly refuses to move past this."
He hisses out a breath. "I can't undo what has been done. | won't call it a mistake because it wasn't. Josh is no
mistake. However, | do apologize for betraying your mother's trust and hurting your feelings in the process. One
lunch, Asher. Ten minutes. | hate to see you brothers fighting. Cwith us. | don't want to resort to threats just
to have both my sons eat from the stable,"
"Mr. Rollins?" Josh lets himself into my office after hearing father's voice. He lounges by the door and hooks a
thumb in his pocket. "It's lunch tdad and you're buying."
| trade glances with father who tacitly imploresto join them. Josh reads the room.
"You should join us, Asher. | hear Soul Foods is a favorite spot for the Rollins family. | have no doubt | will love it."
That's it. | stride towards the door. "Thanks but | already have plans. Enjoy your lunch."
| ride the private elevator in silence, blanking my mind to purge it of the thought of a forced lunch with Josh.
Alas, this is the dent in my perfect corporate life. My phone pings.
[I NEED YOUR HELP. | MESSED UP, AGAIN. TOO MUCH BLOOD. SHE WON'T WAKE UP. HURRY-ASHAL]
The second the elevator opens, | bolt out.
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