A brunette-haired guy moved around gracefully in the hospital. Even in a hurry, his grace was still unparalleled. His bright purple eyes glimmered with a kind of happiness that was hard to find in such a depressing place where sick people alone could mess up your day.
"Okay Maria, I think my shift for today is over. Tomorrow is my day off, I need my rest." Asher Collins smiled at his colleague, who was a nurse administering drugs to patients.
"Of course, doctor, you deserve it. And sorry for taking your resting day, you're just so kind."
Asher blushed slightly at the girl's remark.
Of course he knew the nurse was trying to flirt with him, and as attractive as he might find her to be, she wasn't exactly his type—which was such a bummer because damn, she had the right ass for a good screwing.
Where was his head even going?
"Thanks for the compliment, but I must be on my way…" Asher was about to turn around when she grabbed his arm. His cologne, so ravishing and strong, took over her nostrils.
"Wow, you're damn hot, boy. Wanna have a cup of coffee at the café?" she shamelessly asked, not caring that she was the one doing the asking. But Asher couldn't wait anymore.
His phone kept ringing, and that was his family. An important issue had come up, and he was urgently asked to come home—that it couldn't wait.
Asher was worried about what it might be, but why should he be? It's not like something absolutely horrible happened… like anyone dying.
Nope. He needed to keep his mind holy and not entertain any bad thoughts.
"Inasmuch as you're attractive—I'll give you that—but something calls, and it's urgent. Maria, next time." Asher gave her a sorry gaze because he could sense her dejected look.
Maria saw that her efforts were in vain and that he wasn't going to stay with her no matter what. So she went lower, trying to pull her dress up to show him her lap. In the midst of it, with her panties now showing and a little more than necessary in sight, she tried to show off to Asher since they were in a secluded corridor. But to her dismay, when she looked up, he was nowhere to be seen.
"Fuck!! Asher!"
She muttered, looking around to catch his departure, and saw him leaving the corridor with a majestic walk that could make him be mistaken for a model. Maria gnashed her teeth at her failed plan and dialed a number on her phone with a sour look.
"He rejected me. Are you sure he is straight? Doesn't he look like a fucking twink? But see these legs of mine—he turned them down. Like which sane guy does that?" she spat.
The voice from the other end ended the call without even giving her an acknowledgment.
"That motherfucker! Who does he think he is, pussy ass." She hissed, taking out a cigarette, ignoring the hospital rules and smoking on her way out.
Not like she was a real nurse anyway. She was just doing work for her boss, who was really messing with her mental health.
Meanwhile, Asher drove his car through the nicely lit road. He passed through stalls and stopped at a particular one selling different bags of goodies, deciding to step out and get something for his sweet parents and siblings too.
Flashing a perfect, sexy smile to the seller—who was instantly blown off—he demanded two big bags and one smaller one, which were packed for him. Issuing payment with his card, he made the purchase and entered back into his car, his mind still replaying Maria's attitude.
"I wonder what got into her like that. Isn't she the girl I used to know?" Asher thought to himself while driving.
Soon, he got to his family estate. Pushing the car horn, the gate was thrown open, and he drove into the huge, gigantic mansion, parking at the usual spot.
Stepping down to enter through the main door, he saw his entire family waiting there—and instantly froze.
Hmm… something isn't right. Is this really serious?
Asher asked himself, puzzled at why they were looking around, specifically at the gate. Then, when he looked properly, he saw up to five officers coming out from the interior part of the house, bringing with them his little handbag that was securely hung in his bedroom.
Wait—what the actual fuck is happening?
Rushing forward, he stopped right in the middle, looking at his parents and his siblings—three males, all masculine and screaming hyper-masculinity that overshadowed Asher's feminine posture.
Their domineering pheromones seemed to spike out, and their heads all snapped toward him. Both his parents looked at him with pure disdain—the first time that had ever happened in his life.
Asher wasn't understanding a thing. He looked confused, wondering if it was all some kind of twisted film trick, that the spiteful look aimed at him wasn't really for him—that it was all a mistake.
But it didn't lessen.
The malicious stares remained, shocking him to the core.
"What's going on here? And what are they doing in our home—and with my bag?" Asher demanded.
A thunderous slap descended onto his cheek, making him spin halfway as he held his face in horror.
Why? How did it get to that? Him—Asher Collins—got slapped? It was impossible. He was the family's golden child. So how did it get to this?
"Young man, you are hereby under arrest for the molestation of a young man named John Weston," one of the police officers stated.
That was when Asher completely felt like a frozen object.
His head began to spin, his eyes bulging so widely they almost popped from their sockets. He was shocked to the bone. To tag him as a sexual assaulter—like when and how?
When he was straight. When he liked girls. Just look at him—was he in any way capable of doing such a thing?
"You've made a mistake because I, Asher Collins, would never do such a thing based on my principles and training. Never!!" Asher said, expecting at least some hesitation from them.
But his father sneered at him, giving him a vicious look that reeked of hate.
Asher realized he was no longer safe in that house. Them accusing him like that meant they had planned something against him. All of them, ganged up. And if he didn't run while he still had the chance, then he was doomed.
He looked back, trying to bolt out, when a strong arm pinned him straight to the wall, slamming him against it.
"You're under arrest, young man, and you're going to be taken to prison," the officer revealed.
Asher felt his stomach churn at the words.
With a betrayed expression, he looked at them and began ranting.
"I didn't do anything! And as your son, you're expected to stand up for me. Why didn't you, father? And you too, mother—and even you, my brothers…" His eyes roamed over them one by one.
His mother's face was down. She couldn't handle the guilt.
He began to cry. His life couldn't end this way. Not after his education. Not after finally getting such a good job, even after all the tribulations in school and them calling him a nepo baby.
Once again, his enemies would laugh at him straight to his face.
And the fact that it came from his own family was even more laughable.
"Don't look at me that way. Is it because I didn't tell them how you were touching your brothers in such an irritating manner? But that's for another day. You are not a son of mine because you are not just a disgrace but a complete, utter shameful trash who should have been done away with during childbirth to avoid our reputation from soiling."
Those heartless words poured from his father's mouth. Before Asher's eyes, the man turned his back on him and walked out with his wife.
At the side, he saw his brothers smirk.
They had succeeded.
Now he was completely the black sheep of the family—ruined.
Not caring that he was crying, they dragged him out like a discarded object. Asher's body went limp as he stopped feeling pain, despite hitting the tar floor and scraping his knees badly.
Bundled into the car, he was tossed in as the officers climbed in and drove off.
Asher knew he was being arrested, but with no strong evidence, he believed he couldn't be detained and thrown into prison just yet.
Unknown to him—
hell was awaiting him.