Ashton stopped short.
Chase sat slumped in a wheelchair, his leg hidden beneath a thick blanket. His face was swollen, bruised, and drawn.The sharp, arrogant edge Ashton remembered had dulled into something bitter and broken.
The room mirrored him.
Books lay scattered across the floor. A glass shattered in one corner. A lamp overturned, its shade cracked. The air smelled faintly of alcohol.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the staff said carefully. “You have a visitor.”
Then they left.
Chase looked up.
It took a few seconds before recognition settled in. When it did, his expression twisted into surprise—and anger.
“Well, well,” he said hoarsely. “If it isn’t my beloved cousin. The golden heir of the Millers finally decided to grace me with his presence.”
Ashton ignored the mockery. “I wouldn’t be here if this wasn’t important.”
Chase snorted. “Still arrogant. I begged you to come before. You never did.” His jaw tightened. “And now you show up. Don’t you think it’s a little late for whatever unfinished business you think we have?”
“Someone told me it’s better late than never.”
Chase laughed bitterly. “Then say what you came to say and leave. Like everyone else. Even my parents don’t give a damn about me.”
“Don’t blame others for your choices, Chase,” Ashton said quietly. “You’ve lived recklessly for years. You never thought it would catch up to you?”
“Cut the crap,” Chase snapped. “You’re wasting my time. Even though I’ve got all the time in the world now—stuck in this chair.”
Ashton stepped closer. “I’m here for the truth.”
Chase’s eyes narrowed. “About what?”
“About Bailey,” Ashton said. “Did you really have an affair with her?”
Chase leaned back, studying him. “If you came when I asked you to, I would’ve answered that. I thought I wasn’t going to survive my surgery.” He smiled without humor. “Now? I’m already living in hell.”
“The truth might still set you free,” Ashton said. His voice wavered. “I need it—for my conscience. For peace. Did you sleep with her? Did you seduced her? Was she pregnant with your child? Did you make her terminate it?”
Chase burst out laughing.
The sound was sharp and ugly.
“How could she be pregnant with my child,” he said, “when she never let me touch her?”
Ashton froze.
Chase continued, his voice low. “Bailey’s like a wild cat. Get too close and she’ll tear you apart. The one time I crossed a line—just touched her—she kicked me so hard I thought I was going to pass out.”
Something snapped inside Ashton.
He lunged forward, grabbing Chase’s shirt, trying to haul him up in the wheelchair.
“What did you do to her?” Ashton growled. “Did you force yourself on her?”
Chase didn’t resist. He didn’t even look scared. “It never went that far,” he said calmly. “It was supposed to be a prank. Something convincing enough for people to see. But she looked at me like I was nothing. Like I was beneath her.” His eyes darkened. “I wanted to scare her. Teach her a lesson. That’s all.”
“Why her?” Ashton demanded.
