In The Streets

In The Streets
Asher’s point of view

Frustration creeps up in my throat, restricting my breath. I had promised myself that I would never come back to this house, and I was willing to stand by my words.

But here I am, seated on the couch, my feet tapping on the tiles creating a rattling sound, breaking the deafening silence. My brows lifted as my eyes scanned each one of them.

Two things were for sure: I didn't want to be here, and I wasn't interested in this messed up family drama, but the best they could do was call me here.

I lifted my hand, clapping my fingers. Two men in black rushed inside the house, holding two different files. I signaled them to put the papers on the table, which they did before they left.

I yanked my gun from the table, wrapping my fingers around the handle before I pulled the trigger, pointing it at Shane and then moving it to Mark. Their eyes went wide, their shock evident.

“I gave you a chance to make something out of your pathetic lives, but it's clear that you failed,” I spoke through my gritted teeth, my words sharp and stern. “It's clear that you failed to do that. Now sign these papers and get the hell out of here.”

Mark leaned to the table, grasping the papers and pulling them closer to his face, his eyes scanning through the papers. Shane did the same.

“Are you kidding me?” Mark threw the papers on the table. “This is my grandpa's house and business. You have no right to kick me out of this damn house or business. So what if you are my elder brother? You don't have the right to do this.”

A tension built within me, my muscles and veins straining against my skin. My lips curled up into a smirk, my gaze not leaving his.

I had the right to do this. I was the eldest grandson in the Black family. Sure, Shane was my twin, but I didn't know anything about him, nor was I interested in his backstory. I wanted nothing to do with this family. All I wanted was to spend my time with Scarlett, and as long as these two were still here, I didn't see that happening.

The best option I had was to send them to the streets. They needed to come to their senses and act their age.

They couldn't be bullying Miller at their age. She was the youngest and should be treated like a princess. But no, they wanted to bully her, and I simply had to make them come to their senses.

“You've lost your mind, Asher. I'm not signing these papers, okay?” Shane retorted, bringing me out of my daze. I turned my gaze to them.

Without thinking twice, I released a bullet, firing it at Mark's leg. Everyone in the room screamed in fear while he groaned in agony.

Shane quickly grabbed the pen and the papers before signing on the paper. Mark was now crying in pain.

“Are you signing the papers, or should I just finish you off?” My gaze was sharp as it locked with Mark. Blood dripped from his leg as he grasped the papers and the pen before signing them and throwing them on the table, crying in pain.

This is exactly why I loved my gun. It made life easier with less stress. The two guards walked inside the house and took the papers from the table.

“You have only ten minutes to pack your stuff and get the hell out of here,” I said, putting my gun back in its rightful place. I rose from the couch, adjusted my suit, and started making my way out.

A few minutes later, the driver stopped the car in front of my villa, and I pushed the door open before making my way inside.

As the guard opened the door for me at the entrance, I made my way inside. A smoky smell pervaded my nostrils, and my brows furrowed as I walked over to the kitchen, only for my eyes to widen.

The kitchen was a big mess, pots with burnt food scattered on the ground, the counter filled with ingredients, cooked, uncooked, and burnt. Scarlett was standing by the counter, her hand on her hips while the other wiped the beads of sweat on her forehead.

A sigh escaped my lips at the sight of her. I think it's time she gave up on cooking. She couldn't do it.

I cleared my throat, earning her attention. She swallowed as her eyes met mine, a pink hue creeping across her cheeks.

“I was just trying to make lunch for you,” she shifted uncomfortably, her gaze refusing to meet mine. I couldn't help but let out a chuckle as I walked over to her.

“Sweetheart, I did not marry you so you could become my slave. You don't need to cook and do all this,” I carried her in my arms, and she wrapped her legs around my waist as I made my way out of the kitchen.

“You've done so much for me, Asher. I just wanted to do something special for you too,” she muttered, her gaze now locking with mine.

“You are special to me, Scarlett. You don't need to cook or do anything to make me feel special because your presence alone in my life is special,” I muttered gently, causing her to roll her eyes with annoyance etched on her face.

“How about we go out for lunch, or we could just stay here and make love until evening,” I put her on the bed, climbing on top of her as I hovered over her, spreading her legs with my knee, capturing her lips with mine. She returned the kiss, her hand now on my neck as she deepened the kiss. This was better than my messed up family drama. I'd rather be here with her making love all day long.