Claimed By Ash

The morning sun had already spread its light over everything. The birds had left their nests in search of food, and the streets were full of people moving in every direction toward their work, as though the whole world had woken up and gotten busy with its day. If there was one person who had not yet risen, it was the one member of the Kane family who cared for none of it, not the birds, not the people rushing past.

He considered himself a burden on the world, tired of life, sharp-tempered, and never one to do more than the bare minimum. His eight hours of sleep had been complete, but the alarm had gone off two seconds late, and for that offense it now lay in two pieces on the floor.

He got up, pulled out his clothes, and disappeared into the bathroom. Within fifteen minutes he was fully dressed, fastening the watch on his wrist, a watch he wore so often it had left a permanent mark on his skin. He was clearly a man who guarded his time closely, though there was no evidence of it left on the floor where the alarm clock had been.

The housekeeper had already cleared it away before he came out. She was used to this by now, collecting these expensive broken clocks every few days and later selling off their costly parts for good money. That was how she had already put together more than half of her daughter’s wedding fund.

Downstairs, Hilda Kane stood over the staff, overseeing breakfast preparations. Whenever she visited from London, the whole household held its breath, because nobody got a moment’s rest. Everyone ran from one task to the next.

She would have a spotless surface cleaned thirty-six more times, because her elder son was allergic to dust. The moment the smallest bit of it stirred, he would start sneezing, and it was because of this one man’s allergy that an entire army of staff had been gathered here, an army that otherwise spent months doing nothing until Hilda arrived and turned everything into nothing but work, work, and more work.

“Good morning, Mom.” He walked in, hung the coat he was holding on the back of the headrest of the chair, sat down, and leaned straight into his breakfast.

Hilda stared hard at his flat, lifeless greeting, but she was used to that look by now, so she said nothing and kept spreading jam on her toast. A moment later a member of the staff brought his coffee, set it down, and stood there with hands folded respectfully. Asher turned around to look at him.

“How many times have I told you not to stand over my head?" His tone was sharp, and the man immediately stepped back.

“Why shouldn’t he stand over your head? These people are practically the wives who look after you.” Eleanor’s tone was bitter. Asher looked at his mother as if to say, Not again.

“You think a person can go through life alone. Everyone needs someone who...” She kept talking until Asher cut her off with nothing more than a look, the kind of look that could annihilate the soul of whoever it landed on, parents included.

“What are you doing here, leaving Dad alone over there?” He got straight to the point.

Hilda looked at him questioningly, as if trying to understand what he meant. Reading her mother’s expression, Asher picked up his phone, opened Instagram, and held out a story in front of her. Hilda’s eyes widened as she looked at it.

There, on the screen, stood her husband, and standing pressed close beside him, holding his hand, was her closest friend.

“What the hell?" Hilda’s face turned red with fury as she snatched up her own phone, dialed someone, and stormed off to her room. Watching her go, Asher let out a deep breath. Was this what life was, where you had to carry this kind of insecurity about your own partner?

Seeing all this had made him hate the very idea of marriage. He needed no one in his life. He was enough for himself, alone. That belief had already cost him thirty-five years.

He had a clean, sun-kissed complexion; sharp features; ocean-light blue eyes; deep brows; a straight and defined nose; and a light stubble between which his pink lips showed.

Standing at six foot five, he was tall and solidly built, his body toned from regular time at the gym, the shape of it drawing attention even through his shirts. Any woman could easily fall for him at first sight, and he had crushed just as many hearts, turning down proposal after proposal without a second thought, because he needed no one.

His whole family was settled in London. He alone lived here, which was exactly why Hilda kept an entire staff around just to look after him, since there was nothing else within her power to do for him from so far away.

He finished breakfast, dabbed his mouth with a napkin, rose, hung his coat over his arm, and walked out. In the driveway the driver was waiting for him, as always, but as always the wait would be for nothing, because Asher took the car keys himself and drove off alone, leaving the driver to wait instead for whatever scolding Hilda would hand him later.

He drove roughly and reached the university in no time. He parked, dropped the keys into his coat pocket, and stepped out holding a file, scanning the crowd from behind his sunglasses for the person he was supposed to meet.

Plenty of eyes turned toward him as he walked. More than a few young women pressed a hand to their chest just from the sight of him. A man this good-looking, this charming, had never set foot on this campus before. It was not that there weren’t attractive people here already, but his presence carried something magnetic that theirs did not. He checked the watch on his wrist.

Two minutes late. And that alone was enough to make Asher Kane’s temper start rising. He was about to step forward when a voice called out rudely from behind him.

“Hey.” Someone called out with no manners at all. Asher turned to look. A girl was sitting on the hood of his car, a hockey stick in one hand, chewing gum, wearing loose pants and an oversized shirt that hung past her knees, a small scarf wrapped around her neck, and she was waving him over with one finger.

Asher looked around, searching for whoever she might actually be calling. He was wrong. She was calling him.

“Are you blind? I’m calling you. Come here.” She spoke even more rudely this time, sitting up straight. Her tone alone was enough to boil his blood. He held himself in check, walked over, and stood right in front of her. Even sitting on the hood of the car, she still had to look up at him.

“Are your ears blocked, or your eyes? I’m calling you, and you’re looking everywhere else. Don’t you know who I am.” Her accent was rough and careless. Asher decided she was, without question, some low-grade excuse for an educated person. He said nothing and simply watched her.

“New here?” This was the first time she had ever seen this man on campus. He stood straight, blank-faced, and gave no answer.

“Eyes, ears, and now your mouth is shut too. I asked you what your name is.” At her tone, Asher exhaled sharply and clenched his fist to keep control.

“Asher. Asher Kane.” He said his full name through gritted teeth.

Riley leaned in and studied his face closely. His eyes were impossible to see behind the dark glasses, and it was pure luck for her that they were, because if she had seen them, she never would have asked her next question.

“Nice. Um, I mean, pretty good name, but it doesn’t really suit your personality. Your name should be Shush. Because you’re quiet, aren’t you.” She laughed at her own joke, and the students standing with her, her whole gang, laughed along, all of them third years who had already terrorized every incoming class before this one. Their laughter sent his blood rushing through his veins. He stayed silent anyway.

“You’re pretty old for your age too. Aren’t you embarrassed studying with all these poor little innocent kids" She reached over and shook the chin of Ava standing beside her, and Ava blinked and played along, acting like a baby, which set off another round of laughter from the group.

“Finn, go fix his tie; it’s crooked, and Riley can’t stand crooked things.” She gave the order to the boy standing among them, still chewing her gum, eyes on his tie.

Finn stepped forward and stood right in front of Asher. The instant his hand reached for the tie, a heavy fist landed square on his jaw, and stars burst across his vision. Riley shot upright, the gum stuck flat against the roof of her mouth, and the rest of the group swallowed their laughter just as fast. Asher pulled off his sunglasses and leaned in close to look straight into Riley’s glassy, honey-colored eyes.

“Next time you show your face in front of me, it won’t be a slap. I’ll put a bullet through you instead.” He bit out the words in a cold, flat voice, then turned and walked away. He always held himself back, but only up to a point, and once that point was crossed, he stopped caring who stood in front of him.

Long after he was gone, Finn’s ear was still ringing. Riley threw the stick down and slid off the hood. Everyone else stood frozen in place. Riley looked like she had forgotten how to breathe.

“Who was that, raising a hand against Romero’s gang?" He had already walked off, but the mark he left behind was still very much there.

“Whoever he was, it was only good for today. Tomorrow, when he comes up against the real challenge, all that arrogance is going to disappear.” Someone spat their gum out and kept their eyes fixed on the path he had disappeared down.

Back in the office, Asher walked in and slammed the file down on the desk. Beside him, Max, who had been lost in his own thoughts, jumped up, startled. Asher stood there, running a hand over his face and neck, breathing hard, his blood still boiling. How had anyone dared speak to him like that, and how had he walked away, leaving her alive?

The thought kept circling through his mind. This was Asher Kane, a man who had never once tolerated even his own parents raising their voice at him, and somehow he had just swallowed that kind of disrespect from some girl.

“What happened, man? Who set your temper off first thing this morning.” Max tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Oh, wait, don’t tell me you ran into Romero’s gang.” At the mention of the name, Asher shot him a look that could burn through steel. Ah, so now students had gangs too. Wonderful.

“Look, if you ran into them, there’s no point getting worked up about it. That’s just how they are. They don’t come to this university to study, they come to cause trouble.” Max had been a professor here for four years now, and he knew this gang well. Everyone did, from the principal down to the newest first-year student.

They spared no one, and their hazing was brutal enough that more than half the incoming students simply fled after the first encounter. Those who stayed had a miserable time of it, courtesy of Romero’s gang.

“Then why is the university keeping them here? Why not throw them out.” Asher pressed both palms flat on the desk and leaned over Max, his voice sharp.

“Man, do you even know who leads that gang?” Max asked, as though expecting that Asher, on his very first day, would already know the answer, though the day had barely started and already this much nonsense had happened.

“Who is it? Tell me.”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow. Let’s just go; it’s your first class today. Get your mood in order, and please, don’t walk in this angry. Why scare the poor students? You’re scaring me right now.” He genuinely was scared. Asher’s presence was like fire, and anyone who understood that feared it completely.

“Enough. Let’s go.” Annoyed, Asher grabbed his book and walked out with long, brisk strides. Max snatched up his own textbook and hurried after him. They made their way down the corridor toward a classroom, and every single person they passed turned to stare.

Who was he? That was the question on everyone’s lips. No one could place him at first glance, but everyone was stunned, eyes wide, watching him pass. Something about him had left the whole place staring.

“This is your classroom. The first lecture is here today. I’ll catch up with you after this class, okay?” Max patted his back and disappeared into his own room. Asher exhaled deeply, forcing himself to relax, and walked in.

The whole class rose to their feet at the sight of the new professor. He set his book down on the desk and looked around the room. Every one of them looked like they came from money. This was the most expensive engineering university in the country, and only the wealthy sent their children here.

“Good morning, sir.” The whole room said it together.

“Morning. Please, sit.” He couldn’t quite bring himself to say good morning back, since some ignorant girl had already made sure his morning was anything but good.

“My name is Professor Asher Kane, your new professor.” He introduced himself with careful politeness. Everyone looked at him with the same strange expression he had already noticed outside. He couldn’t understand why everyone kept staring at him like he was some kind of alien.

He picked up the attendance register and began calling names one by one, until he reached a stretch where every name he called out belonged to someone who wasn’t there. All of them are absent. Not that he cared. He set the register aside and turned back to his lecture. The class quietly took notes on every point he made.

“Okay, we’ll pick up from here tomorrow. Any questions?” He set the marker down on the desk and scanned the silent, frozen students when one girl raised her hand.

“Yes, go ahead.” Once given permission, she stood up. Fitted pants, a shirt cropped high, hair dyed gold, and pink lipstick—she looked like a porcelain doll. Pretty, certainly, but not for Asher.

“Are you single?” she asked, in something close to a trance. At her question the whole room burst out laughing, and Asher felt his mind simply short circuit.

“Are you out of your mind?” he shot back in the exact same tone, which only sent the laughter even deeper.

“Stop laughing.” One sharp growl from him and the laughter cut off instantly. Irritated, he grabbed his book and walked straight out of the classroom and into his office. The whole day was already ruined, and it was that cursed girl’s fault.

“What’s wrong with you, sitting there fuming like that?" Riley was on the porch swing, hair pulled into a high ponytail, eating almonds one at a time from the bowl in her lap, when Millie came and sat beside her, asking curiously, and helped herself to a handful of almonds too.

“How dare you eat my almonds?" Riley whipped around ready to bite her head off, and Millie’s eyes went wide. Riley never talked to her like that.

“What happened, Riley? Why are you so angry" At her gentler tone, Riley realized she was taking her frustration out on the wrong person.

“Sorry. I’m just in a bad mood.” She came back to herself, set the bowl down, and started twisting a loose strand of hair around her finger.

“What put my darling in such a mood? Did someone say something to you?” Millie asked warmly, resting a hand on her shoulder.

“I got assigned to haze a new student today, but I lost. He was some grade-one psychopath. He slapped one of my own guys. I am not letting this go.”

She wanted nothing more than to march over and strangle him. Millie couldn’t help laughing, because red-faced with anger, Riley looked exactly like the porcelain doll she’d just been comparing someone else to.

“Go ahead, laugh it up.” Seeing her laugh only made Riley’s blood boil hotter. “Look at yourself; you’re barely five feet tall and running some kind of gang. If your uncle ever finds out, you are done for.” She warned her, laughing again, and to Riley her laughter tasted like poison.

“Go tell him then so that tyrant finally stops letting me go to school.” She said it with a pout, going back to her almonds, which were probably the reason her brain ran a little too fast these days.

“Have some shame, calling your own father a tyrant.” Millie genuinely felt bad hearing it, but Riley had no shame to spare.

“Yeah, well. First they forced me to go to college, and now that I actually want to go, everyone’s threatening me. Guess I don’t get a say in anything in this house.” In the end she slipped right back into her tough talk.

“When is this movie phase of yours going to end? You’ve been watching it so much you’ve forgotten how to talk like a normal person.” Riley was always like this; whatever movie she watched, its influence stuck to her for days afterward.

Just then, twirling his car keys on one finger, a hand in his pocket, whistling as he walked, he came in, and when his eyes landed on the two of them swinging on the porch, instead of walking past, he came over.

“What tragedy are we mourning today, ladies?” He came closer, asking playfully.

“What are you going to do about it if we tell you?” Riley snapped immediately.

“Me? I’m going to destroy whatever sorrow has ruined my little sister’s mood.” Riley glanced up at the young man in front of her, an equal heir to the family estate.

At the sight of him, Millie quickly straightened the scarf on her head and started to head inside when Zane’s voice called out behind her.

“Make me a cup of tea; my head’s about to start pounding.” He shot a sideways, teasing glance at Riley as he said it, but the fact that he’d been the one to say it made Millie’s heart skip in the strangest way.

She nodded and went inside, while behind her Riley pounded her fists into Zane’s arm. He was three years older than her, but the two of them had always acted more like twins than siblings.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” he asked, catching her hands in his.

Riley yanked her hands free and blew a stray strand of hair off her face.

“What am I even supposed to say? How am I supposed to explain what happened to me and how it happened?" She slipped straight into full performance mode.

Zane knew perfectly well she wasn’t going to tell him anything without a full dramatic production first, but slowly, the whole story came out, and by the time she finished, Zane was laughing so hard it echoed through the whole yard.

“So wait. Some new guy slapped that boy, and what happened to the gang girl doing the hazing?” He had no idea the one doing the hazing was his own sister. She always told her stories in the roundest possible way.

“He threatened her that if she ever showed her face in front of him again, it wouldn’t be a slap; he’d shoot her.” She recounted her own story with a pout, and Zane doubled over laughing because today the ones handing out the hazing had gotten a taste of their own medicine.

“Go on then, mourn your school troubles. I’m going to go have some tea, made by your future... ahem... sister in law.” He winked and headed inside, and at his words Riley’s eyes went wide. She couldn’t believe what he’d just said.

“I’m telling Dad.” She threatened, raising her voice.

“Then I’m not sending extra money to your account.” He fired back, louder, dismissing the threat entirely. Riley couldn’t understand what was happening to her life. If Zane stopped sending extra money to her account, how exactly was her shopping habit supposed to survive?

She wanted to smash everything in sight. Finally, she thought of one person who could fix her mood, grabbed her phone, and dialed a number that picked up on the second ring.

“Well, what an honor. How did I get so lucky.” A playful voice came through from the other end, and hearing it, all of Riley’s anger deflated at once.

“You couldn’t even be bothered to call me first.” Her tone dripped with complaint.

“Oh, I’m sorry, love. You know there’s a birthday party going on at the house right now; I stepped away when I saw your call.” Birthday music was playing clearly in the background.

“Tell me. Your mood’s off.” He always could tell just from her voice. “Like you don’t already know. Everyone knows you keep track of everything about me.” She said it with a pout, examining her long painted nails, the ones that regularly got her in trouble with both her parents.

“How could I not keep track? Keeping an eye on the person you love is a responsibility, and if there’s one thing Rowan Sterling never neglects, it’s his responsibilities.” His tone was full of unmistakable affection, and Riley’s heart pounded hard at the sound of it.

“Honestly, watching Nora today is putting me in the mood to get married myself. How long am I supposed to keep celebrating other people’s kids’ birthdays?

Time to start celebrating my own.” He kept talking in that same loving way until Riley was blushing furiously, glancing around, praying no one would suddenly appear and catch the color rising in her cheeks.

“Have some shame.” Was all she could manage, though shame was wasted on a man who had been born without any.

“I only know how to love, and I’m doing plenty of it right now.” He said it in a suggestive tone, holding back a laugh, knowing exactly how she blushed at things like this. Even standing this far away, he could practically feel the color rising on her face.

“Okay, stop chewing on your scarf now. I’ll come to the university tomorrow, and whoever dares so much as look twice at the woman I love, I will personally take their eyes out.”

Hearing that, Riley quickly yanked the scarf out from between her teeth and gave herself a light smack on the head for acting so ridiculous.

“You’ll really scold him properly, right?” she asked, seeking his approval like a child.

Rowan felt his heart melt completely at her tone. If he had been standing next to her, he wouldn’t have hesitated a second before showering her with affection.

“Yes, for my love, I will scold him properly.” She played tough in front of everyone else, but with this one person, she let herself be deliberately soft, and somehow it brought her a strange kind of peace, seeing his concern, feeling his love.

Just then, Diane’s voice called out from inside the house.

“Okay, I have to go.” Hearing her mother call, she rushed to end the call when he suddenly spoke again.

“At least say it before you hang up.” His tone carried nothing but love, and Riley’s heart pounded hard despite herself.

“No way. Not until after the wedding.” She said it quickly and cut the call at once.

On the other end, seeing her name light up his screen, he broke into a charming smile.

“Silly girl. I guess I’ll hear it after the wedding, then.” Muttering to himself at her glowing name, he headed back inside, where everyone was busy celebrating.

This was a wealthy family’s party, where money was being spent freely on the first birthday of a one-year-old girl, and why wouldn’t it be? This was a family deep in politics, so of course the money flowed like water. Thousands of dishes had been prepared for Nora Whitlock’s birthday.

“How’s your studying going?” her father asked, taking a bite of food, looking over at Riley.

“Going well, Dad.” She answered casually, too busy doing justice to her plate of chicken spicy rice.

“Eat slower; is someone chasing you?” "Seeing her always rushing," Diane said with annoyance. Their only daughter was the one who never took anything seriously, unlike their two sons, who were both capable and promising and both already working the family business alongside their father.

“Let her eat. You shouldn’t scold daughters like that; who knows what’s waiting for them ahead?" Riley smiled hearing her father’s words, something warm stirring in her chest. It will be a very good future, Dad, don’t worry, she thought to herself and went right back to happily enjoying her spicy chicken rice.