The next few hours were spent in heavy discussion—plans, possibilities, and, of course, speculations about what Amelia could be planning. The team chimed in when they could, though Asher did most of the talking. Eventually, he decided it was time to end the meeting.
He had other things to handle—like that ridiculous, absolutely infuriating, upcoming marriage to Amelia.
After her dramatic strut out of his office (which, admittedly, still amused him), he'd collected her contact information from her father, per her request. Now it was time to move forward. The sooner they registered the marriage, the sooner he'd get the information he needed—and the sooner he could be rid of her.
He'd text her tonight, tell her to come to the bureau for the registration tomorrow. Quick and clean. In, out, over.
"I think that's all for tonight," he said, rising from his seat. "Greg will contact you if I have anything else to say."
Greg—he was the young man Asher had called right after leaving Mr. Davis's office. Ryan hadn't been available; his schedule had been packed lately with photo shoots. Not that Ryan ever said anything outright, but Asher knew. So, he called Greg.
Their history was... unconventional. Greg had actually tried to rob him years ago, on his way back from his first-ever business trip. A scrawny fifteen-year-old trying to survive. For some reason, Asher had taken pity on him. Instead of calling the cops, he brought him in. At the time, he was still recruiting members for his agency, so he added Greg to the fold.
He got him into a proper school, funded his living expenses—despite not being particularly well-off himself at the time. Greg never spoke about his past or how he ended up on the streets, and Asher never asked. Some things were better left unsaid.
Greg never said thank you, either—not verbally. But his loyalty spoke volumes. That was all Asher needed.
Still, he was a little surprised when Ryan showed up later. He hadn't expected him to come. Actually, the thought hadn't even crossed his mind. But he was glad Ryan was here now… though that was something he'd never admit. Not even on his deathbed.
"What are you thinking about?" Ryan asked.
Asher blinked, realizing everyone else had already left. It was just the two of them now.
He gave a small smile. "Just past memories," he said, standing.
"You're sure about this, right?"
Ah. There it was again.
He sighed, long and heavy. "You know, one would think you'd have given up by now, considering how many times you've failed to change my mind."
Ryan shrugged. "Look, I know I'm being overbearing right now."
"I'm glad we've established that," Asher muttered loud enough for Ryan to hear. Ryan ignored him.
"But I'm just looking out for you. Marriage isn't a joke. And doing it all in the name of what? Information? It feels... off."
Asher turned to face him, his tone calm but final.
"I understand your concern. But I'll be fine. It's not a real marriage. Even if we register and all, you and I both know the truth. That's enough." He paused. "Now stop acting like a nagging wife and relax. Gosh, if you're this annoying over a marriage, how would you behave if I had kids someday?"
Before Ryan could respond, Asher turned and left, done with the conversation—and the nagging—for the night.
Ryan, meanwhile, just stared after him, shaking his head.
"Asher… giving birth?" he muttered to himself. That was an image he'd never considered—and definitely didn't need right now.
---
Asher reached his car, still slightly amused by Ryan's paranoia. He didn't see what the big deal was. Marriage? He'd marry a cockroach if it meant protecting the agency and the few people he genuinely cared about. And there weren't many of those in this world.
Pulling out his phone, he drafted a message to Amelia.
"Meet me at the bureau tomorrow. We're registering the marriage."
He hit send and waited.
A few minutes later, her reply came.
"Okay."
Short. Cold. Dismissive.
Exactly like her attitude in her father's office.
He smiled.
What would it take to actually stir her?
One thing was for sure—this marriage wasn't going to be boring.