I watched him walk away, unable to stop a bitter smile from curling at my lips. This was the great Asher Lane—confident, commanding, practically royalty in the business world. And yet, so insecure when it came to love?
It was already getting dark when I finally made my way home, cradling the bouquet of flowers he gave me.
What I didn’t expect was the scene waiting for me on the other side of the door.
Lana. And her son.
She was lounging on my couch, in my pajamas, casually watching TV. Her son, shoes on and all, was bouncing like a maniac on the designer couch I’d painstakingly chosen—leaving muddy footprints all over the upholstery. That couch cost over ten grand.
I felt rage rising in my chest, boiling over—but before I could say a word, Micah walked out of the kitchen.
His brows furrowed in confusion. “Why are you back?”
I choked on my anger for a moment before I forced out a cold reply, “Pretty sure this is still my place.”
The boy suddenly chucked his toy at me. “This is my dad’s house. It’s our house. Get out!”
I was stunned. Lana, completely unfazed, just smiled sweetly and said, “Oh Riley, don’t mind him. Kids don’t know any better.”