ASHLEY

"Are you okay? You’re sweating."

Ashal’s fingers brushing my forehead snap me out of the daze I have been drifting in. For the past minute or two, I’ve been staring blankly at the online buzz building around Noxx’s collaboration with Rollins Fashion. The ache from the biting comments and jabs comparing me to Noxx, calling me washed-up and irrelevant, should hurt more than it does. But it doesn’t, only because shock has dulled everything else.

Who the hell is on my account?

Ashal snaps his fingers in front of my eyes, then snatches my phone from my hand.

"Noxx, huh," he says lightly, scrolling. "Great work, Ash. Father would be proud you clinched this talent."

My fingers tug at my neckline, trying to ease the tightness crawling up my throat. The VIP room suddenly feels stifling, the air too thick to breathe properly. I surge to my feet and start pacing, raking my hands through my hair.

"This can’t be real." A humorless laugh escapes my lips. I jab a finger at my phone in Ashal’s hand. "That’s bullocks."

"What are you talking about? This is good news, Ashley."

"No, it’s not."

The words burst out before I can temper them. I suck in a sharp breath, steadying myself before my temper goes off unchecked. Only Dean knows my little secret. I’ve told no one else. How could this happen?

What if I can’t recover my work? What if I can’t prove that I am Noxx?

The thought slams into me with enough force to make my stomach drop. Everything I built in secret, every sleepless night wracking my brain, every sketch that finally felt like mine again, gone. My masterpiece has been reduced to a headline I have no control over.

I wipe the sweat from my brow just as Ashal gestures for the staff to clear the room. Once we’re alone, he circles the table and comes to stand beside me, resting a steady hand on my slumped shoulder.

"What’s going on, Ashley?" His voice softens. "I don’t get why you’re acting like this. Did Matteo hire Noxx without your consent? Do you have a problem working with the newbie?"

I swallow hard and turn to him. "God, I wish that was the case." I exhale slowly, bracing myself. "I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before now. I just wanted something that was just mine. With the pressure from father, the board and even just having an identity that wasn’t tied to us being quadruplets, I guess I wanted to reinvent myself. I wanted to reinvent my art too after Father doubted me and demoted me in my own company. I just wanted..."

"Ashley!" Ashal cuts in, gripping my arms tightly. "Get to the damn point."

My breath catches in my throat as I stare at him. "I AM Noxx," I say quietly. "And someone just hijacked my identity."

***

His jaw drops. "Say what now?"

"It’s exactly what you heard. Noxx is an alias I created to showcase design ideas I wasn’t brave enough to create under the company’s brand. In my defense, I didn’t think anyone would approve of, least of all the board. I wanted to test public opinion through anonymity. I never thought things would blow up like this." I get into more details, explaining how it all began, but he interrupts me halfway.

"I always thought Noxx reminded me of you," he admits slowly. "We all did. We just didn’t want to bring it up because we thought you’d take it the wrong way. We know how much you detest competition in your space and we didn’t want to provoke you."

He sinks back onto the couch, staring up at me. "How did this even happen?"

"I don’t know." My hands tremble despite my effort to steady them. "I can’t lose my designs, Ashal." The thought sends a cold shiver down my spine. "I can’t handle any more losses right now. I already lost credibility. This is the fastest way to reinstall myself in the fashion business. I can’t lose again."

Ashal gets on his feet instantly, closing the distance between us.

"Calm down, bro. That’s not going to happen," he says firmly. "Look at me. We’ve faced worse. We’ve been hacked before and survived it. You’re not losing anything. I’ll get Asher and Father on the phone. They know the best guys to—"

"No." I stop him by placing my hand over his phone as he attempts to call them. He looks at me sharply.

"Please, not Father or Asher. I don’t want them finding out about this yet. They’ll give me an earful. There’s got to be other solutions."

"Ashley, we both know Father can handle this faster than..." He trails off when I pull out my phone. "Who are you calling then?"

I dial Dean and place the phone in my ear before sliding a glance at him. "I’m calling the father who actually believes in me."

Ashal’s jaw tightens but as uncomfortable as hearing those words make him, he says nothing. Dean answers quickly.

"I didn’t think you planned to go public so soon," he says. "Are you sure you’re not moving too fast?"

"I didn’t go public," I snap. "I was hacked. Someone else is operating my account and accepted Rollins Fashion’s offer. You know I never wanted to do that. This impersonator is actively posting as me. I need your help."

There’s a brief pause, just the sound of his breathing on his end of the line.

"I don’t want Brett involved just yet." I add. "I know you have the resources to fix this mess quietly so I am asking you. Can you help me or not?"

"Of course I can." His voice softens. "I’m just sorry you’re dealing with this. I know how much Noxx means to you."

Relief loosens something tight in my chest. Dean knows what this cost me. He was there when I couldn’t sketch a single line without tearing it up in frustration. He watched Noxx come to life when I thought I was finished so yes, I actually believe he means what he just said.

"I’ll get someone on it right away."

"Thank you." I clench my jaw. "And Dean, when you find them, I want to face the bastard who thought this was funny."

I end the call and find Ashal still watching me intently.

"Don’t stare like you didn’t already know I stayed in touch with him."

The tension in my bones eases slightly after speaking to Dean. I drop onto the couch and pour myself a drink. Ashal sits beside me. If looks could drill holes in one’s head, Ashal would have given me one.

"Just say it," I prompt him. "Whatever you’re thinking, lay it on me."

He sighs. "Look, I’m glad you’ve found someone else you feel comfortable enough to rely on. Trust me, I get it. There are certain times when you want to talk to someone other than your immediate family. I just want you to be cautious with Dean. The guy literally just showed up out of nowhere. And if Father wasn’t so terrible at being a dad, I bet you wouldn’t rush to crown Dean Dad of the year."

"Who says I trust Dean?"

Ashal cocks a brow at me. "He knew about Noxx when none of us did. What do you make of that?"

I lower my gaze. "I guess you’re right. It’s just that he was my pen pal before I knew he fathered me. We already had a connection. I can’t pretend it’s not there."

Ashal nods. "I understand but the dynamics have long changed. There’s a lot about this man that we don’t know. Try to remember that when you pit him against the father you actually know." He lets out a deep sigh. "Despite how much I prodded her, Skylar wouldn’t divulge what she knows about Dean’s past or our childhood without making Brett the sole culprit."

"Can you blame her? The man raised her. She will defend him, just like you subtly defend Brett because he raised you too." We lock eyes. "The big family meeting is coming up soon. All secrets will be out of the bag and trust me, I’m prepared for ALL possible outcomes. I think you are too. We’ve faced too much in our lives to not be prepared for whatever secrets are unraveled in that meeting."

Rubbing both palms together, I bite my lower lip. "Hey, can you not tell Asher and Ashton about Noxx yet? I’ll explain everything to them once this hacker mess is sorted. I just can’t handle their judgment or questions right now."

He lifts his glass. "Sure, as long as you keep Olivia’s secret, we’re even."

We clink glasses and take long sips till the alcohol burns warm down our throats.

"So, what are you going to do when you catch the impersonator?"

"I don’t know yet. Maybe I’ll wait until they show up at the company claiming to be Noxx, then pull them into my office for an interesting chat. Or maybe I will expose them on live TV during the launch of our new line."

Ashal shakes his head. "Nah, public humiliation is dicey. That might backfire. Noxx already has loyal fans and ridiculing him might paint you as the villain."

The thought settles like lead in my stomach. I see the sense in what he’s saying. Noxx already has some loyal fans. What if I end up looking like a jealous and sour loser while showing the world that the impersonator is a fraud but I am not?

What if people assume my family is once again using their money and connections to rob an innocent artist of their spotlight just to put me back on the pedestal?

"What do you suggest?"

"I think your best course of action would be to capture this impersonator before they post a picture of themselves, posing as the real face of Noxx. That would be damaging. You need to get back control of your account and figure out a way to let the world know who you really are."

I swirl my drink in my glass. "Yeah, you’re right."

I text Dean to convey the urgency of the matter. I need the culprit discovered in the next twenty-four hours or I am going to let Brett wade in. I hate to use that line to put fire to his tail but that’s what he gets for being an absent father all these years. He’s got to earn his place back.

***

When we finally get home past midnight, the house is eerily quiet. The domestic staff has long since retired. The chandeliers cast dim pools of light across polished floors, making it seem like a museum version of a family home.

I barely have time to shrug out of my jacket before a maid appears, startling me.

"Welcome home," she says to us. "Your father would like to see Ashley in his study."

Ashal bids me goodnight and heads for the elevator. I hesitate for half a second, then make a beeline for father’s study.

As usual, the study smells like leather and aged whiskey. Father stands behind his desk, already pouring two drinks. He looks exhausted but more so... pleased. That alone puts me on edge.

"Well," he says, lifting a glass. "Looks like you finally proved me wrong."

I stop just inside the doorway. "What?"

"I saw the news. Noxx will be collaborating with Rollins Fashion," he passes me a glass of white wine, clinking his glass against mine. "Kudos to signing a real talent."

My stomach sinks. Of course, he’s heard. "I think you should be having this drink with Matteo. It was all him. So, congrats to hiring a real creative lead."

If he gets my dig, he moves on quickly from it. Taking a satisfying sip of his drink, he throws his head back and indulges in a long sigh. "Everyone is raving about the collaboration. It feels nice to see our fashion line in the hot topics for a change."

"Yeah? Why do you think people are losing their minds over this new...talent?" I edge closer and take a seat.

"It’s nothing you don’t already know, or you wouldn’t have pitched Noxx. His designs have a raw edge people love. It’s not just bold; it’s fearless. Boy, I don’t care for the details as long people are willing to buy it."

The words grate on my nerves even more than the dollar signs in his eyes. Does he really not find those designs similar? I distinctly remember showing my early designs to him in this same room, months after I started working for Rollins fashion. When the board wouldn’t sign off my new creative direction because it was ’risky’, I had hoped father would support me.

He hadn’t. He sided with the board and coerced me into sticking with formulaic designs because they were ’safe’. Now, they’re all praising Noxx?

"I think you could learn something from him," Father continues to my astonishment. "Working together might be good for you."

The casual dismissal stings more than I expect. I glance at the untouched glass of wine in front of me and grit my teeth.

"Would you ever consider a different face for Rollins Fashion?" I ask quietly. "Say someone like Noxx."

He studies me over the rim of his glass. "You should hope it never comes to that, Ashley. But if it does, and it benefits the company, you’d be wise to step aside as the businessman that you have been trained to be."

That’s it. That’s all I need to hear. I surge to my feet. "I think you have me confused with Asher. I am an artist, not a businessman. Goodnight father."

I turn to leave and make it to the door when my ringtone blares out. Frisking myself, I fail to find it on me. My eyes spot it on father’s desk. I turn back to get it but father picks it up first. His expression darkens as he reads the screen: Dean Sawyer.

Forcing a smile, he holds the phone out to me. "Goodnight, son."

I take it and walk away, dismissing the ball in my throat. Dean’s voice is steady when he speaks.

"We found your culprit."

Only then do I realize I’m holding my breath. I exhale deeply. "Thank goodness. You’re efficient."

He chuckles at my praise. "What do you want to do next?"

"I’m going to do as much damage control as I can when I log back in. I need to come up with an excuse to work with Rollins fashion remotely. After that, I want a meeting with the culprit. He better have a sob story to keep him out of prison."

"Her."

"What?"

"Ashley, the person who hacked your account is a woman. Her name is Nova Simmons."