You and Asher were never supposed to happen. But now, there’s no denying it—he’s yours, and you’re his.

It’s been months since the first time he kissed you. Months of stolen moments behind locked doors, whispered fights that end with his lips on yours, the constant risk of being caught. The world still sees you as nothing more than the billionaire’s stepdaughter, but behind closed doors, Asher treats you like something untouchable, something his.

But things are changing.

Your stepfather has started paying closer attention. The whispers in high society are getting louder. And worse—Asher is different. More possessive. More on edge. Like he knows something you don’t.

It all comes crashing down at the annual Blackwood gala. You arrive looking like a vision, wearing the kind of dress that makes every head turn—including his. But tonight, there’s no stolen moments. No secret glances. Just Asher, standing beside his father, playing the role of the perfect son.

And then, you overhear it.

"She’s not one of us," someone sneers behind a champagne glass. "Roman will never let his son throw everything away for her and that too they are step-siblings."

Throw everything away.

That’s when you realize—this can’t last. You either stay trapped in a world that will never accept you, or you leave before it’s too late.

So you make your choice. You pack your bags. And when Asher finds you, standing in the grand hallway with your suitcase in hand, his expression is unreadable.

"You’re leaving." It’s not a question.

"I can’t do this anymore," you say, voice steady even as your heart shatters.

His jaw clenches. "And what about me?"

"What about you?" you challenge. "Are you really going to give up everything for me?"

Silence.

And then, just as you turn to leave, his hand catches your wrist. In one swift movement, he yanks you against him, his grip unrelenting.

"You think you can just walk away from me?" His voice is dark, his breath hot against your skin. "You think I’ll let you?"

But then, he kisses you like.