Chapter 53 You're Really Selfish
Lucian's POV
Ash had been staring at his phone for five, maybe six minutes. His thumb wasn't moving. His eyes weren't blinking. The screen's glow reflected off his face in the dim backstage lounge, casting shadows.
I was halfway through reviewing the quarterly report when I noticed the way Ash's shoulders had drawn inward, the way his breathing had gone shallow and deliberate, like he was trying very hard not to let something show.
"Ash."
He didn't respond. His jaw worked silently, his gaze fixed on whatever image had locked him in place. I set my tablet down and moved closer, close enough to see the faint redness creeping into his eyes.
"Ash," I said again, quieter this time.
He looked up at me, and the expression on his face was raw, unguarded hurt. His voice came out thin and unsteady. "Briar has a boyfriend."
The words landed wrong. I felt my eyelid twitch, the muscle beneath it pulling tight. "Who told you that?"
"A friend I just met." Ash's voice broke slightly. "She sent me photos from tonight. Briar's in one of them. With her boyfriend."
I held out my hand without saying anything. Ash hesitated, then passed me the phone.
The image was clear enough. Briar sat at a table in a restaurant. She was looking down at her plate, her expression unreadable in the candlelight. Julian sat across from her, his hand extended toward her face, fingers brushing a strand of hair back behind her ear with casual intimacy.
The angle was perfect. The lighting was perfect. It looked exactly like what it was supposed to look like.
I stared at the image longer than I needed to. Julian's face was partially turned away, but I knew the line of his jaw, the set of his shoulders. The photo had been taken from across the room, which meant whoever sent it to Ash had been watching them deliberately.
Ash had grown up in my apartment, kept carefully separate from the Sterling family politics that had shaped my childhood. He didn't know Julian. He didn't know what Julian was to me. He'd been protected from all of it, and now he was looking at me with red-rimmed eyes waiting for me to tell him it wasn't real.
I handed the phone back. "That's just her friend helping her with a napkin."
Ash's expression didn't change. He looked at me like I'd just lied badly. "That's not what it looks like."
"It's what it is."
"No." Ash's voice cracked, and he wiped at his face with the back of his hand. "That guy's your competition, isn't he?"
I didn't answer immediately. The silence stretched between us until Ash's breathing hitched and he looked away, blinking hard.
"You're right," I said finally. "He is."
Ash's head snapped back toward me, his eyes wide and wet. "Then what are you going to do? You have to do something."
I looked at my brother, at the way his hands were shaking slightly as he clutched his phone, at the way his whole body seemed to lean toward me like he was waiting for me to fix this. The weight of it settled in my chest, familiar and unwelcome.
I didn't say anything. I just looked at him and felt something twist uncomfortably in my ribs.
---
Briar's POV
I was three steps out of the restaurant when my phone buzzed.
The message from Lucian was short: [Ash cried. You need to handle it.] Below the text was a photo—Ash with his hand pressed against his face, his eyes red and his expression crumpled.
I stopped walking. Julian was still behind me, close enough that I could hear his footsteps on the pavement. I didn't turn around. I stared at the image and thought, with grim humor that didn't feel funny at all, 'Does this count as a workplace injury?'
I couldn't reply. Not with Julian watching. Not with James waiting by the car. I locked my phone and shoved it into my bag.
"Briar."
Julian's voice came from directly behind me. I turned halfway, and that was when I saw the man across the street.
Kieran Ashford stood in front of the glass building on the opposite side of the road, flanked by two executives in dark suits. He wore a deep gray three-piece suit, and his silver hair caught the streetlight in a way that made him look sharper than he probably was. His gaze swept across the sidewalk, landed on me for half a second, then moved to Julian and stayed there.
His expression didn't change. He just looked at Julian with cold, assessing stillness.
"Julian," Kieran said. His voice carried across the distance, flat and precise.
Julian went rigid beside me. His shoulders pulled back slightly, his posture straightening reflexively. He didn't answer. He didn't move. He just stood there, staring back at Kieran.
The silence stretched. Kieran stepped off the curb and crossed the street, his movements unhurried. He stopped a few feet away, his gaze still fixed on Julian, and the tension between them pressed against my ribs.
I turned and walked several steps away, and James followed. We moved down the sidewalk until we were far enough that their voices became nothing more than low murmurs I couldn't make out.
"You noticed, didn't you?" James said after a moment. His voice was low, almost reluctant.
"Noticed what?"
"Alpha Julian's right arm. He's been holding it stiff all night."
I looked back toward where Julian stood. Now that James had said it, I could see it—the way Julian's right arm hung slightly awkwardly at his side. "He's injured?"
"He pushed back a dinner with Chloe to meet you tonight. Alpha Dominic wasn't pleased." James's tone was flat, but there was something underneath it that sounded like accusation. "He used the whip."
I stared at James. "And what does that have to do with me?"
James's eyes narrowed. "He took a beating to have dinner with you. Shouldn't you at least get him some medicine? Show you care?"
"Chloe should be the one buying him medicine. She's his fiancée. What am I supposed to be?" The words came out sharper than I'd intended. "I'm not responsible for his choices."
"He canceled a family obligation for you."
"The Apex project was something Owen and I secured. Julian inserted himself into it. I didn't ask him to." My voice rose slightly. "Don't act like he's doing me a favor. And don't try to guilt me into feeling grateful for something I never wanted."
James was quiet for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft and cutting. "You're really selfish, you know that?"
I laughed, short and humorless. "Tell him to stop doing things that make him feel noble when I never asked for them. I don't accept it. And don't try to morally blackmail me."
James didn't respond. He just looked at me with something that might have been disappointment, then turned and walked back toward where Julian stood.
I stayed where I was, my hands clenched at my sides, and watched him go.
Julian had moved into the shadow near the building's edge, just far enough from the streetlight that his face was hard to read. But I could see the way he stood—too still, too controlled—and the way his gaze stayed fixed on me. His eyes were pale in the dim light, the gold flecks in them flickering like something unstable.
He didn't say anything. He just looked at me, and I realized with sinking certainty that he'd heard every word.
Julian turned and walked toward the car, his movements slow and deliberate. James followed without a word, leaving me standing alone on the curb.
The car ride was silent. James drove. I sat in the back seat, as far from Julian as the space allowed. Julian sat with his head tilted back against the headrest, his eyes closed, his breathing slow and even. The only sound was the hum of the engine and the occasional click of the turn signal.
I kept my gaze fixed on the window, watching the city slide past in a blur of light and shadow. I didn't look at Julian. I didn't need to. I could feel the weight of his presence beside me, the tension radiating off him like heat.
We passed a pharmacy, the green cross sign glowing faintly in the dark. Julian's voice cut through the silence, low and rough. "Stop the car."
James pulled over without hesitation. Julian shifted in his seat, his movements slow and careful, and undid the top button of his jacket with his left hand. His right arm stayed motionless at his side.
He turned to look at me, and his eyes were the coldest I'd ever seen them. "Go buy me medicine."