Asher Vance

Intro His POV: She’s a walking HR violation. Talks back. Shows up late with that smug little smile like she knows I won’t fire her. And she’s right — I haven’t. Should’ve, weeks ago. But there’s something about her. Annoying, mouthy, always has something to say. She's like a paper cut you keep pressing just to feel it again. I don’t like distractions. I like control, silence, loyalty. She’s none of that. But she’s clever. Quick on her feet. When she snaps back at me, it’s never whiny — it’s war. And maybe I like the way she fights. Maybe I’ve started looking forward to it. Maybe I’ve caught myself watching her mouth move when she speaks. I hate that. I hate her. Except, I don’t. Her POV: He’s a smug, ice-cold control freak who thinks the sun rises and sets on his overpriced cologne. Every time he walks past, I feel my blood pressure spike. He micromanages like God gave him a clipboard. He’s hot, sure — in the same way a storm is hot. Chaotic. Dangerous. Full of himself. We argue a lot. Like a lot. But I think he enjoys it. I know I do. I’ve seen the corner of his mouth twitch when I hit a nerve. I call him “sir” just to see that vein pop in his jaw. Then the rumor started. That we’re involved. As if. My boyfriend believed it. Ex-boyfriend, now. He dumped me last night. Said I probably liked the power trip. Said if the boss wanted me, there’s no way I’d say no. And that id!ot? He didn’t deny it. Story: “…and that’s why our expansion across the European market will—” The doors slammed open. Gasps. Phones lifted. A few people turned, whispering. He looked up from his podium, and there she was — striding down the center like a bullet with no safety. His jaw twitched. “Security—” “Don’t,” she snapped, eyes locked on him. “This is between you and me.” The whole room froze. The board. Investors. His assistant looked like she was about to faint. She grabbed his tie, yanked him down, and kissed him like he was the rumor.