Chapter 5

ASHER

“Asher, how reckless can you get?” My father’s voice is laced with disappointment. “You’ve messed up a golden opportunity for that girl. She could have been the new face of our upstairs merchandise. Don’t you care about the impact of your actions on others?”

“Really, Dad?” I retort, incredulous. “She was just a pretty girl at the bar. We liked each other; we had sex. Big deal. How does that have anything to do with your decision to hire her or not?”

He looks at me, a mix of shock and shame on his face, and it pisses me off. Who is he to judge me when his own past is far from perfect?

“It has everything to do with it, Asher. How many times have I asked you to refrain from sleeping with anyone downstairs? This is our business; your face is the future of it. And by extension, Atty’s too. Can’t you see how your actions affect your brother?”

“Dad, chill out. I can sleep with whoever I want. As for Atty, it’s his problem if he’s not getting any. He doesn’t even try. Honestly, I sometimes wonder if he’s even into women. But that’s beside the point. I am me, and he is he. We’re two different people, remember?”

“Of course, son. But for God’s sake, open your eyes and see the bigger picture!”

He finishes his tirade and moves toward the window, where a dirty handprint still remains. I can see it from here, probably left by Emma’s hand cream.

My father notices it too, running his finger over it as he grinds his teeth. I’ll have to clean it up later; maybe use that window cleaner Mom brought over last week.

I move around my apartment without hesitation, unfazed by my father’s presence. This is my space, my territory, and I’ll use it however I damn well please.

I hate that even as an adult, I’m still treated like a child. So what if I slept with Emma and then took her to her meeting? Did I know she was a potential client? No!

Did she tell me, even though she clearly knew who I was? Hell no! She used me, and good for her. At least she found a real man.

“Maybe you should get off your high horse and talk to her, Dad. She obviously has a knack for toys, and I bet she’d be a great addition to your little club upstairs,” I suggest, shrugging my shoulders.

He doesn’t need to be here. His client is upstairs, and I’m sure she knows what she’s doing.

“Asset,” he laughs. “You’re supposed to be the asset, Asher. But you can’t see past your own desires to realize that the company needs you.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re still capable of running your own company, Dad. Stop trying to dump your responsibilities on me—especially when I want nothing to do with your ~slave~ club!”

“Is that so, Asher? Are you backing out? Maybe I should give your share of the business to one of your sisters. Let’s see how you fare in the real world then.”

He chuckles, a dark, dry sound that churns my stomach. He’s angry, but so am I. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my life, it’s that we’re both equally stubborn.

“If they’ll take it. But I doubt Ella would. She’s fiercely independent, and her business is thriving. Why would she give that up? And Tilly? I doubt she’d step foot upstairs knowing what I do. Not to mention her resentment toward Mom’s choice to play rather than parent. And Tal? She’s way too young to be selling people’s services for a living, don’t you think, Dad?”

“Ease up, kiddo. You’re about to push me over the edge with your words. God, you’re such a spoiled brat, aren’t you? Your dads were right. We’ve given you too much; your mom has coddled you beyond what’s reasonable. Your actions speak volumes.”

“Mom did just fine raising me,” I retort, propping my feet up on the coffee table to get comfortable. For some reason, I feel closest to my dad when we’re at each other’s throats like this.

Maybe it’s the Henderson blood coursing through my veins… After all, they say Grandpa used to do this with Dad for years. “Actually, I think she did such a good job that I know better than to grovel at your feet like every other idiot in the world.”

“I don’t know why I ever thought you’d grow up enough to take over the damn company. You ask for college; now you’re asking for time to find yourself, but I’m afraid this is who you are, Asher. A freeloader who wants for nothing. But here’s the thing, son, money runs out. Without hard work, there’s no paycheck, and you’ve done jack shit. You’ve contributed nothing to the companies I’m so willing to hand over to you—”

“Sure, Dad, go ahead and say it. ‘Grow up, or I’ll pass it down to someone else.’ I don’t have to do anything for you. I’m not ready, and I’ll be damned if I let you pressure me into a role I’m not prepared for. And seriously, Dad. Why give us so much money if you didn’t want us to spend it, huh? You make no damn sense, and newsflash—I said I wanted time, so give it to me.”

“I’ve given you time, Asher. Can’t you see? It takes time to become the tough businessman I’ve had to become. Time, practice, and shadowing. You have to start at some point. For God’s sake, just grow up, you lazy son of a bitch.”

My laugh comes out dry, just like his did a moment ago. “Better not let Mom hear you yelling at me like that,” I chuckle again, tossing out the little threat he knows is damn true. “You know she’ll take my side. She always does.”

“Sometimes your mom mothers too much. You’re a man now, Asher. Stop hiding behind your mom. You’ve got forty-eight hours. If you haven’t pulled yourself together and given me a start date by then, I’ll cut off your funding and stop your income. You’ll pay rent on this damn apartment like any other tenant. Food, clothes. Gas for your car. Hell, even your insurance. It’ll all be stopped. I’m not your keeper, and I’ll be damned if I keep paying for you when you give nothing in return.”

“Ooo! Scary! You think Mom’s going to agree to that?”

He storms off, seething. Steam might as well be coming out of his ears.

“She won’t have a choice; it’s my business and my damn money,” he grumbles before slamming the door behind him.

Two days. That’s what he gives me. A measly forty-eight hours to suddenly decide I want to shoulder the burden of half the family businesses.

I let those two days pass in my usual fashion. Drinking, smoking, and a one-night stand with a fiery redhead I pick up at a local bar.

I had breakfast at the restaurant yesterday, a feeble attempt to cure the hangover from the night before. My days are unfolding just as they always do. Free and fucking fantastic.

His threats haven’t materialized yet, but he’s there, watching me from afar. Today marks day three, seventy-two hours since his ultimatum, and I’m just doing my usual thing, getting ready to head downstairs for breakfast.

I’m dressed and about to head out the door—

The doorbell rings, interrupting my exit. I wonder which of my siblings is on the other side. They’re usually the only ones who ring the bell.

I’m taken aback when I open the door to find Tyler, a stack of paperwork in his hand and a look of guilt mixed with neutrality on his face.

“Son,” he greets me, swallowing hard.

“Dad. I was just heading out for breakfast. Care to join?”

“Maybe after we finish signing these papers. Can I come in?” he asks.

“Papers?”

“Tenancy agreement, car loan agreement, insurance. Shall we sit down and go over everything?”

“Wait a minute. I thought I owned this apartment,” I choke out, shocked.

“That was before. Before you would have owned this entire building and every room in it. But it seems you’ve made a deal with your father and decided against taking up your role as CEO.”

“Made a deal? More like I was bullied into standing up against being forced into a role I’m not ready for. Dad, are you serious?”

“Dead serious. You choose not to play the game. Now you’ll have the chance to find whatever career you are looking for. And don’t give me that look. I agree with Zach for once. You can’t live off us, scot-free, forever. El and Til haven’t for years, and Atty even longer. But you’ve never stopped taking from the bank of us, your parents. Something’s got to give, and it’ll be us finding a more suitable replacement who will be paid handsomely, just like you would have been.”

“Where’s Mom?” I ask, panic setting in.

“At home with the twins.” He sighs and sits at the dining table, sorting the paperwork into separate piles. He pulls out his favorite pen from his jacket pocket and places it on the table.

“Come on, Asher, we have a lot to go through, and I have meetings starting at twelve,” he says, gesturing for me to sit next to him.

I walk over, dazed, my heart pounding and my mind racing. For the next hour and a half, we go through all the paperwork. He makes me list my monthly expenses, which I absolutely hate.

We calculate how much money I have in my bank and trust fund and how long it will last me if I don’t start earning an income. He has me sign documents for life insurance, car insurance, and contents insurance.

You name it, there’s insurance for it, with monthly payments all due on the first of every month. It’s a harsh reality check. My parents have essentially cut me off financially.

I’m overwhelmed by the thousands I’ll be spending every month. Sure, it’s half of what I’m used to, but as Tyler keeps reminding me, the money won’t replenish itself. Once we finish with the paperwork, he lingers at the table, watching me flip through the documents I’ve just signed.

It feels like I’ve signed my life away. The only silver lining is that the rent will act as a loan, and after ten years, they’ll sign over the papers for this apartment.

“Asher,” Tyler calls out to me, his voice pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Yes, Dad?”

“I understand this is a lot to take in. You might not have seen this coming, but from a business perspective, we have to compensate whoever steps into Zach’s shoes. I get it if you’re not ready to buckle down and step up, but that doesn’t mean you can’t contribute even a single day of your time,” he says, rising from the table.

I watch him as he walks toward the window. “This empire is as much yours as it is ours. We want to hand it over to both of you. You are our sons.”

His words seem more like a pep talk to himself than to me. It’s as if he’s trying to convince himself that he’s doing the right thing, even though I believe this will strain our relationship.

How can they just drop this on me like a ton of bricks? I’m only twenty-one, barely a few months past my birthday, and they expect me to take over half of not one, but three companies.

I’m clueless about what kind of job I could land with my business degree. Why would I refuse this offer only to accept a similar role elsewhere? It contradicts the stand I’ve been trying to make for myself.

Maybe I could ask El if she needs help. At least with her, I wouldn’t feel inferior. Especially since I was there when we all ostracized her for dating Daniel. It seems like my dads are doing to me what they did to her.

It’s unfortunate that they feel the need to set such examples. It tarnishes all the good they’ve done for us.

“Listen, I’ll sweeten the deal. Find a job, even if it’s part-time, and I’ll pay your rent at the end of every month you work. We’re not doing this to be cruel, Asher. We’re showing you the harsh reality of life. We love you, and I hope you understand that.”

I can’t help but scoff. Love? This doesn’t feel like love. Maybe it’s tough love. Either way, it hurts right now, and that pain makes me angry.

But I’m not one to act on impulse, so I nod in agreement. Working one day a week will cover my rent. Simple. I’ll find a damn job, even if it’s at a low-paying coffee shop.

I won’t let them rattle me. So, things might change for a bit. I might smoke less weed, go out less often, and keep a closer eye on my finances. Hell, I might even find my place in the world.

But you know what I won’t let them do? I won’t let them change me. I won’t let them scare me into submission—which is exactly what I think they want.