Not the chosen one
Asher's POV
“Because you’re capable.” The words snapped out sharper than I thought, but I didn't take it back.
Camila’s shoulders squared, her fingers curled tight at the edge of my desk, whitening at the knuckles. “I’m your assistant, not some prostitute, Mr Reyes.” she said, with her a trembling voice, but her gaze didn’t waver.
“You made him give me exactly what I needed. I must commend that, you're so brilliant.”
Camila let out a bitter laugh, dragging both hands through her hair like she needed the motion to keep steady. “So that’s it?” she whispered. “That’s what I am to you? A move on the chessboard?”
I didn’t answer or rather I didn't have answers.
“I work so hard for you and for this company, Mr Reyes. I survive your moods and your impossible expectations. And I thought—” She stopped... “I thought at the very least, I mattered enough not to be used.” Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “You should’ve been honest, Mr. Reyes.” She added, fighting back tears from dropping from her eyes.
Silence.
Then I stepped forward—close enough to feel the heat of her breath and finally broke the silence.
“I had it under control Camila, nothing was going to happen to you.”
She laughed, again—softer this time, and far more broken. “That’s not the point, Mr. Asher. You let me walk in there with no heads up, I’m not some coward you know.”
“Take two days off.”
She blinked, stunned for a moment, like the words didn’t register.
“I’m not asking,” I added.
Without saying a word, she slid my jacket off her arm, placed it on the edge of my desk and left.
The room fell into a hush but my mind refused to follow. It stormed with the thoughts of her—the way her lips trembled and her eyes scanning me like I wasn't her boss, just the man who stripped her of the last shred of dignity she had.
I was wrong, yes I know.
And she was right afterall; I'd exploited her trust. But the truth was, my desperation for that deal blinded me to morality. If need be, I'd use her again, and anyone else, if it meant claiming victory.
Because that's exactly how I work.
My landline rang, I dragged in a breath and hit the answer button. “Asher.”
“Sir, Mr. Edward asked me to remind you of the dinner tonight at the family's estate. Says it’s important.”
Ah, important.
My jaw thickened. ‘Important.’ That word never meant what it should in my family.
Trust me, it didn't. At least not in the Reyes household.
“Noted,” I said, then hung up.
But instead of picturing my father’s smirk over foie gras, my thoughts went rogue—straight to last night.
The way Camila's body curled elegantly in that red dress like it was designed to ruin men. I swear, if curses had legs and cheekbones, it was her.
She looked—
Nope.
Absolutely not.
I shut that thought down so fast my brain nearly gave itself a 404 error.
Emotions didn’t close deals rather decisions did, and I’d made mine.
------
The butler materialized beside the car, opening the door with a dignified bow.
Reyes estate hadn’t changed a bit. Still looked like it had been ripped from the pages of a luxury magazine.
Inside, the manor was warm in color, not in feeling. Crystal chandeliers spilled gold over polished floors, but the air still smelled like old rules and older grudges.
"Your father is in his drawing room, sir," the butler said.
Of course he was.
I walked in.
My mother spotted me first. "Asher," she said, stepping forward. "You look tired."
"It's just work, nothing much," I said, brushing my lips against her cheek.
She offered a smile—tight and polite, like it came from the same drawer as her pearls. Her fingers grazed my jacket, lingered a second too long, then slipped away as gently as it came.
Dinner was served later that evening.The silverware clinked like a metronome of fake charm with everyone smiling like they’re being paid per tooth.
Maverick: My brother or maybe a rival. His eyes locked onto mine as he swirled his drink. “Heard Pinnacle’s offshore branch took a hit.”
“The portfolio was adjusted before the dip. We closed up five percent.”
He smiled, the I’m-totally-not-jealous kind. “Of course you did.”
I cut into my steak. “Shame about VelronTech, though. Stock tanked.”
“It was a temporary setback.”
"Sure," I said, a slow, wicked smirk curling across my lips. "Just like the last time I guess."
His face flushed deep red, jaw clenched so tight I could almost hear it crack. The urge to hit me burned in his eyes.
Haha! I love it when he feels this way, let him seethe. He wouldn't dare lay a finger on me.
My father cleared his throat, cutting through the tension. “Asher, the India tech acquisition was an impressive one.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He turned slightly toward Maverick. “You’re doing well, too. Keep at it.”
It landed more like a consolation prize. Maverick’s smile tightened, and his fork suddenly looked like it owed him some dollars.
Dinner dragged on with fake laughs and not-so-subtle flexing.
Eventually, Father stood. “Excuse me.”
He left.
I barely touched my food. The conversation at the table felt more like a stage play with Maverick and his wife Lyra boasting of ventures that might turn out to be lies.
I needed air. For real.
So I wandered the halls like a stranger in my own childhood. Same oil paintings and dim lights. But everything felt smaller now.
Then I heard him—my father.
His study door was slightly open.
“I’ve looked at the reports, Asher outperforms Maverick. He’s efficient, focused and though he's my younger son, he's a perfect successor.”
I almost smiled. Almost.
“But he’s cold, distant. With no wife and kids.That’s not legacy, he's building a lonely empire. Take him out of the will and do it quietly.”
And there it was. Not betrayal, just Edward Reyes being Edward Reyes. Playing God with everyone’s future like it was a game of Monopoly.
He wants a legacy?
Fine.
I’ll give him a damn headline.
-----
The air outside hit harder than before, but none of it mattered now.
I slid into the backseat and shut the door.
“Drive.”
I pulled out my phone and placed a call across to Elias.
“Sir?”
“Book a private booth at virello’s.Do it within an hour.”
“For two?”
“Obviously.”
A pause, then— “Understood.”
I hung up, scrolled, and hit another call.
She answered on the second ring. “Mr. Reyes?”
Her voice held that kind of surprise that said ‘oh no, please, let me rest’ like she wasn't bracing for whatever chaos I was about to drag her into.
“Meet me at Virello’s, don’t be late.”
“Is this about work?”
“Not tonight.”
Camila’s POV
The call ended.
But my eyes were glued to the phone, dread creeping in as I wondered what new demand my 'Demonic Alpha Boss' would make this time.
He’d already driven me to the edge with that ridiculous mission and now he wanted a late night meeting?
Typical Asher Reyes.
Still, I dragged myself out of the bed and got dressed.
---
I arrived at Virello’s fifty minutes later.
Asher was waiting at the far end of the room, alone at a private booth. Dressed in a sharp suit and putting on zero smile, just those devilishly unavoidable eyes tracking me as I approached.
“You’re late.”
My eyebrows knitted, “You gave me an hour, sir?.”
“I expected thirty minutes.”
I sat down quietly, placing my bag on the desk before me. “Sorry about that.”
He leaned forward.
“I need a wife.”
“What?” I said, staring at him blankly like he was speaking Swahili.
Did he even hear himself?
"One year marriage contract, all you have to do is play your part" he said as though it was nothing to him.
"No games, no emotions," he added. "My father wants a woman figure? I want to grace him with the illusion of one."
I blinked twice. “You want me… to pretend to be your wife?”
“Yes.”
“Why, if I may ask?”
“Because you won't crumble and I trust you to survive it. Camila, you adapt quickly and you're someone that needs a way out of the life you’re stuck in.”
He leaned in just enough for the shadows to fall across his face. “I’m giving you one.”
“And what happens after the one year ends?”
“You walk away and live your own life, with enough money to rewrite your future.”
The words landed sharp like a double-edged sword.
And yes—
He was offering me luxuries of a lifetime, but not love and not the kind of forever I used to whisper about under my cheap bed sheets.
“You’re right,” I whispered. “I’ve always wanted a life where I wasn’t scraping by… where I could finally embrace everything I wanted.”
He waited.
“But this? This kind of marriage? It's not the life I dreamt for myself. I want to be someone’s choice, not their symbol.
"I want a love that’s real Mr. Reyes.” I went on. “So I'm sorry, I can't be a pawn in any game you're planning to play.”
The silence that followed was absolute before he finally spoke , “You don’t have to give me an answer tonight.”
He stood slowly.
“Sleep on it,” he added. “And think about the life you've always wanted.”
I couldn’t speak, but deep down, I knew this wasn’t just about a contract, rather it was a crossroad and either way I stepped, nothing about me would ever be the same.