"Asher, what happened to your face?" Frida gasped, fear flashing in her eyes as she noticed the bruises. She reached out, but the moment her fingers brushed his skin, he winced in pain.
"Don't touch," Asher muttered, pulling back. "I told you not to come here. I'm not in the mood to see anyone."
Frida's expression tightened. "Why are you upset with me? If it weren't for me going to Luca's parents' house, you wouldn't have been bailed out. You should tell them the truth, that their son tried to kill you."
Asher's eyes darkened. He picked up the glass of alcohol and downed it in one long gulp. "Frida… do you want me dead?"
Her brows furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about? If they can bail you out, then they can also punish their son. Luca has had a spotless image his entire career. What he did to you is beyond disgusting. Just look at yourself." Her voice trembled with both anger and concern as her gaze lingered on his battered face.
