Chapter 111: Whose Child Is She?

And then he remembered.

Not as a thought but as a collision of memories.

Metal screaming. Tires shrieking across asphalt. The violent jolt of the steering wheel jerking in his hands.

They were escorting General Norse and the others back to the capital then. He was driving the truck, and he just shifted his gaze for a second to the scenery to his left.

Then the sedan came from the right.

It was too fast and too close.

The officer beside him shouted.

He slammed the brakes, but it was too late.

The world spun.

The car skidded sideways, tires losing their grip. For one frozen second, he saw the terrified faces inside the vehicle in front of him, the woman reaching out for the grab handle above her.

Then the impact came.

A deafening crash of metal folding in on itself.

Glass exploded like a thousand knives.

The car flipped.

Once.

Twice.

His head slammed against something hard, and everything turned into flashing fragments—crushing steel, twisting seatbelts, someone screaming his name.

Then silence.

Broken only by the hiss of steam and the distant wail of sirens.

She was the only survivor of the accident he caused.

The only one.

Asher’s hand slowly curled into a fist.

For a moment, rage, guilt, and disbelief twisted inside his chest like barbed wire.

Then his fingers loosened again when his gaze fell on Lara’s face.

Because he remembered what he saw before darkness took him.

He had been half-conscious, pinned against the crushed door, the taste of blood heavy in his mouth.

Rescue lights flashed red and blue across the wreckage.

Voices shouted.

Metal groaned as firefighters pried the twisted car open.

Then he saw them pull her out.

Lara’s body was limp.

Her clothes were soaked with blood.

A deep gash ran across her forehead, crimson streaking down her face. Her arm hung at an unnatural angle as the paramedics lifted her onto a stretcher.

For one terrible moment he thought she was already dead.

Then—

Her chest moved.

Barely.

Just enough to prove she was still alive.

Relief had barely begun to form when darkness swallowed him.

That was the last thing he saw before he passed out.

Larissa Reyes. Bloodied and broken, but breathing.

…

“Mommy, you didn’t answer me yet.”

Shay tightened her small fingers around Lara’s hand, swinging their joined hands gently as she looked up with wide, hopeful eyes.

“I want to sleep with you tonight.”

Lara looked down at the little girl clinging to her. For a moment, something soft flickered across her face.

“Okay, sweetie,” she said at last, brushing a loose strand of hair away from Shay’s forehead. “I’ll sleep with you tonight.”

For half a second Shay simply stared at her, as if making sure she heard correctly.

Then she bounced on her feet.

“Yeheeey!”

She jumped and wrapped both arms around Lara’s waist, hugging her tightly.

Her laughter rang through the room, practically glowing with happiness.

Across the room, Asher watched the scene in silence.

He hadn’t expected that.

Lara laughed softly and steadied the child so she wouldn’t fall.

The child clung to Lara so naturally—so comfortably—that it looked as if they had known each other forever.

It looked so natural. So effortless.

Not like strangers but like family.

His gaze shifted to Ares.

Ares was watching them too.

But unlike the others, there was something deep in his expression—something quiet and protective, almost tender—as if the sight before him was exactly how things were meant to be.

Like a father watching his wife and child.

The thought unsettled Asher more than he expected.

He looked away.

His eyes landed on the woman standing nearby.

“And who are you?” he asked bluntly.

The woman stepped forward gracefully.

“I’m Scarlet,” she said, offering her hand. “Scarlet Collins.”

Her voice was soft, but her gaze was steady as she looked directly at him.

“I finally get to meet you, Asher.”

Her name stirred nothing.

His brows drew together slightly as he searched his memory.

Nothing.

“I’m Ares’ girlfriend,” Scarlet continued, though there was a faint edge in her tone now. “Back in senior high school… and during the early years of college.”

She tilted her head slightly.

“He didn’t tell you about me?”

Asher released her hand and leaned back slightly.

“Ares has always been secretive,” he said calmly. “He rarely shared anything personal.”

Scarlet’s lips pressed into a thin line, displeased. Ares clearly treated her like she meant the world to him. How could he not tell his family about her?

Before the silence could grow awkward, Logan chuckled from the side.

“If it were Asher, though,” he said with a teasing grin, “everyone would have known.”

His eyes sparkled mischievously.

“The legendary Zuvel playboy.”

A few people snorted quietly.

Back in college, Asher’s reputation had been impossible to ignore—girls following him everywhere, rumors spreading faster than gossip could keep up.

Logan folded his arms.

“You were practically collecting admirers.”

Asher didn’t respond.

“I’m just wondering,” Logan said casually, leaning back in his chair, “did you only father Shay… or are there other little Ashers running around that you don’t even know about?”

For a second, the words seemed to hang in the air.

Lara, who was helping Shay climb onto the chair, froze.

Her hands slipped slightly, and Shay wobbled.

She caught the child quickly before she could fall, but her heart had already skipped a beat.

Did she hear that right? Asher… fathered Shay?

Her mind raced. Then what about Ares?

Wasn’t Ares supposed to be Shay’s father?

Slowly, almost involuntarily, Lara lifted her gaze toward Asher.

Across the room, Scarlet looked as if someone had just dropped a bomb in front of her.

Her mouth hung open as her eyes darted from Asher to Logan, to Shay, to Ares,

and finally back to Logan again, as if waiting for him to laugh and say it was a joke.

But Logan wasn’t laughing anymore.

The teasing grin that had been sitting comfortably on his face a moment ago faded when he noticed the sudden stillness in the room.

Every pair of eyes was now on him.

The silence stretched.

“What?” Logan asked, frowning as he glanced around. “Why are you all looking at me like that?”

His gaze landed on Asher. And the words died in his throat.

Because Asher was glaring at him.

Not the lazy annoyance Logan was used to seeing.

This one was sharp and cold.

A warning.

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