3.

Asher’s POV

A lot of things had gone wrong that fateful night, seven years ago.

First, Asher was supposed to meet an investor, Laurel Mitchel, who he assumed had just flown into the country. They were scheduled to meet at the lounge, but after hours of waiting, he had been directed to meet her in her hotel room instead.

Secondly, for some idiotic reason, someone had spiked his drink. Asher could only recall taking half a glass before everything became a haze. His senses were dulled, his judgment impaired, and instead of calling his driver to take him home, he had made the reckless mistake of heading to Laurel’s room.

Whatever had been slipped into his drink had stripped him of his self-control.

That night, Asher had entered the room expecting Laurel Mitchel, but instead, he found Raina Ross, lying there with that dazed look on her face. And in the clouded, heated moments that followed, they had slept together.

The only good thing about that disastrous night was that it had been the most incredible night of his life. Seven years later, he still couldn’t forget her—how she felt, how she looked, or how the world seemed to stand still when they were together.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair as he replayed the video clip of Raina rushing out of the hotel room the following morning.

Her face filled the screen, and she still looked just as breathtaking and beautiful as she had been that night.

What baffled Asher was the fact that someone had deliberately planned and led him to that room that night, because Laurel hadn’t even made it into the country—her flight had been delayed, and it still doesn’t make sense that he was yet to find the culprit seven years later.

He was about to hit the replay button again when Nolan, his assistant, entered the office.

Asher’s eyes immediately locked on the brown manila envelope in Nolan’s hand.

Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward. “Tell me what you’ve found,” Asher muttered.

Nolan sighed, dropping into the chair across from him and passing the envelope over. “She’s telling the truth, Asher. Her name is Avery Wellesley.” He said with a resigned tone.

Asher’s brows furrowed in confusion. She had introduced herself as Raina Ross to him that night. Either she had lied, or he had misheard, which he doubted. “Avery Wellesley?” he repeated, his voice low with disbelief.

Nolan nodded. “She’s the daughter of Cole Wellesley, the owner of Wellesley Publications.” He revealed.

Asher frowned deeply. He knew Cole Wellesley and his family. He had met both of Cole’s daughters at an event before but he had not met Raina. Not before that night. “Daughter? He has another daughter?” he mumbled.

Nolan exhaled. “That’s where it gets interesting. She’s not actually his daughter. She’s the widow of his late son, who died seven years ago. They didn’t know she existed until his son’s death. Cole treats her like his own.” He said.

Asher froze. Seven years ago he had met her too. “His daughter-in-law?” he asked in shock.

There was no mistaking it now. Raina Ross could be Avery Wellesley. They had to be the same person. Hell, he was looking at her face paused on his screen now. Which meant… he had slept with another man’s wife.

Worse, if she was aware of her marital status, she had knowingly slept with him.

“Shit,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “This just got fucking complicated.” His mind raced. “Unless… when did Cole lose his son?” he asked, because he couldn’t imagine he had slept with another man’s wife.

“Three months before that night,” Nolan replied grimly.

The timeline left Asher reeling. If Raina was Avery, and Henry Wellesley had died months earlier, it was still an unthinkable mess.

“Anything else I need to know?” he asked, his voice strained.

Nolan hesitated, which earned him a sharp glare from Asher. At this point, he needed every little information about Raina that he could get. Finally, Nolan spoke, “Her medical records showed she was hospitalized at that time too. She was in a coma for six months.”

“What?!”

Nolan nodded grimly. “There was an accident, not sure what kind, but the record is there. She suffered severe trauma and was sent out of the country for treatment. She was also pregnant at the time.”

“Fuck!” Asher hissed, his voice shaking. “Pregnant? And in a coma?”

“Yes. Apparently, she lost some of her memories, too,” Nolan added.

The room felt stifling as Asher struggled to piece it all together. While he had spent years searching for her, Avery had probably been fighting for her life in a hospital bed. She had carried a child, lost her memories, and somehow endured it all.

For a long moment, he sat in silence, processing the tangled web of their pasts. When he finally looked up, his expression was hard.

“You got her address, send it to me” he said. His voice was calm, but the storm in his eyes spoke volumes. He turned to look at his safe where he had kept the leftover from that night. There was only one path left for him to take.

Finding Raina’s apartment hadn’t been difficult for Asher. The neighborhood was well-known—an upscale area nestled near the beach. He walked up to the door, pressed the doorbell, and waited. One… two… three seconds passed before the door swung open.

Standing inside, with disheveled hair and still in her pajamas, was Raina Ross. For a brief moment, her blue eyes sparkled with confusion, then recognition before she blinked and frowned, her expression turning sour as she realized who was standing there.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” she snapped.

Asher rolled his eyes, glancing past her into the apartment. “I heard you’re not supposed to curse if you have children. Are they home?” he muttered, brushing past her and stepping inside.

“Hey!” Raina exclaimed, spinning around to stop him. But it was too late—he was already standing in the center of her living room.

“Like hell I’m not allowed to curse! What are you doing in my house? And how the hell did you even find out where I live?!” she rasped, her annoyance plain on her face.

Asher smirked and deliberately ignored her question. Instead, he sank into a nearby sofa, his gaze falling on a steaming cup of coffee sitting on the table. He picked it up and took a sip.

Raina threw her hands up in exasperation. “Great! Just great! You barge into my apartment like you own the place and drink my coffee. I knew today was going to suck!” she huffed dramatically.

He raised an eyebrow at her outburst. “You know, I could actually buy the entire building if I wanted to,” he said smoothly.

Raina groaned, her tone shifting to something more serious as she spoke. “What do you want, Asher Storm?”

Asher sighed, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before pulling a small velvet box from his jacket. He placed it on the table and gestured for her to take it.

Raina frowned at him, hesitant at first, but finally gave in with a sigh. “Might as well get this over with,” she muttered, snatching up the box and flipping it open.

Asher studied her closely, watching for any flicker of recognition in her face. But her face remained blank like she had no idea what she was holding. She arched a brow at him, not saying a word.

“It’s yours,” he said firmly. “You left it behind after that night.”

Raina scoffed. “… and we’re back to this again. I told you I’m not this Raina you’re looking for and There’s no way I’d wear something like this. I hate dangling earrings,” she mumbled, closing the box and handing it back to him.

Asher’s eyes narrowed. It was now clear to him why she had no idea who he was and had even forgotten the night they had spent together. She had amnesia, and If this wasn’t enough to jog her memory, he had no choice but to confirm it himself.

Without warning, he grabbed her hand and pulled her closer.

“What the hell?!” Raina yelped, struggling against him.

In a swift motion, Asher shifted her pajama top slightly, revealing her shoulder. And there it was—the small, unmistakable mole in the same spot he remembered.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. Raina Ross was Avery Wellesley. The woman he had spent seven years searching for. The realization left him speechless.

“I’d let go of her if I were you,” a deep voice cut through the air, startling both of them.

Asher turned sharply, his breath catching when he saw the man standing in the doorway. His sharp suit, dark eyes, and steely glare were unmistakable.

Julian Edelman.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Asher muttered under his breath. “How much more complicated can this get?”

Julian’s jaw tightened. “What the hell are you doing here, Storm?”

Asher straightened, meeting Julian’s gaze evenly. “I should be asking you that question, Edelman.”

With all the shocking revelations Asher had uncovered that day, nothing had prepared him for the sight of Julian Edelman standing in Raina’s apartment.

But it wasn’t just Edelman’s presence—it was the way Raina moved toward him, her proximity far too close for Asher’s comfort. The ease with which she moved toward Julian set his teeth on edge.

It was irrational, but the sharp pang of jealousy coursing through him made his blood boil.

Would he now have to fight for her all over again, after seven long years?