Four Brothers and a Bride

Chapter 234: Chapter 234

ASHTON

The music at Blue Cove used to feel like oxygen when my brothers and I haunted this club. Tonight, it feels like noise.

Bass rolls through the club in thick waves, vibrating through the polished wood of the bar and crawling up my spine, but it barely registers in my soul. People are laughing somewhere behind me, clinking their glasses. A group near the dance floor erupts into drunken cheers as the DJ switches tracks.

Yet, all of it feels distant to me, almost muted, like I’m sitting underwater while the rest of the world continues above the surface. A waitress sets a fresh bottle of whiskey in front of me. I hadn’t even realized I ordered another.

The amber liquid glows under the low blue lighting, rich and expensive and completely untouched.

My fingers rest loosely around the neck of the bottle. I haven’t taken a single drink since I got here two hours ago. I thought I would. That was the whole point of coming here anyway; to drown the heaviness in my chest in something strong enough to numb it.

But every time I lift the bottle, my throat closes. So, I set it back down again. It’s been like this for days ever since the airport. The memory rises uninvited in my head. I grit my teeth as the memory wave hits; Demi walking toward the boarding gate, her shoulders tense, her small suitcase rolling behind her.

I had stood near the far wall of the terminal, half-hidden behind a pillar, watching the woman I love walk out of my life to start a new one.

She looked so small from where I stood, so determined to start anew. A muscle tightens in my jaw. I had promised Anna I wouldn’t stop her unless Demi wanted me to.

Anna had made me swear. At the time it felt like the right thing to do, a noble thing to do. Now it feels like the stupidest promise I’ve ever made because every instinct inside me had screamed to run after her.

I wanted to grab her hand and tell her she didn’t have to leave. Instead, I stood there like a statue while the boarding gate swallowed her.

My fingers tighten around the whiskey bottle. I finally lift it. The smell hits my nose first; oak, smoke and sharp heat. My stomach twists and I lower it again.

I drag a hand down my face. The truth is the emptiness didn’t start at the airport. That was just the moment it became impossible to ignore. So much has cracked open recently that I’m not even sure what the foundation of my life looks like anymore.

The pain perhaps started with my mother, Elizabeth Rollins. The thought alone makes my chest tighten.

For twenty-six years I believed she was the gentlest person in the world, the quiet center of our family. The soft voice that balanced father’s sharp authority.

She was the woman who kissed our foreheads before bed as kids and called us her miracles. Now every pure memory of her feels like a lie, because the woman I thought I knew would never have done what she did deliberately to Demi.

Never.

Yet the truth sits there like a stain I can’t scrub out. The sweet face, the soft voice...are masks for something far more calculating. Something capable of destroying lives while smiling sweetly over tea.

My stomach churns. I used to think the world was complicated but predictable. Now it feels like every person I trusted is wearing a mask. The only place that ever felt steady was with my brothers.

For as long as I can remember, the four of us moved like a single organism. If one of us was angry, the others felt it. If one of us was in trouble, the others showed up before the problem could even grow teeth.

The game room used to be the center of our universe. We used to convene there almost every night to just...talk. Talking helped a great deal, fed our bond. Now, the room sits empty most nights.

Asher is drowning in work and corporate battles. Ashley is constantly buried in whatever mysterious venture currently owns his attention.

Ashal...I exhale slowly. Even when we’re in the same room lately, it feels like he’s somewhere else entirely.

My family don’t sit at the dining table together anymore, not after the secrets started spilling out of our adoptive parents’ past. No one wants to pretend things are normal. So, we all come home late, eat out or alone, then disappear behind our own closed doors.

I rub the back of my neck. Maybe this drift started long before now. Maybe I just didn’t notice because I had Demi to distract me and fill the void. She had become my world so quickly that I barely registered how much everything else was shifting.

Now she’s gone and suddenly I can see all the cracks.

I push the whiskey bottle away. It’s enough. If alcohol isn’t helping, there’s no point pretending. I pull out my phone and open our group chat.

Game Room, tonight?

The message sits there, delivered but read by no one even after five minutes. I stare at the screen, then sigh and scroll through my contacts. My thumb hovers over a name before I tap it.

Skylar.

It rings twice.

"Hello?" Her voice is cautious, like she expects to be yelled that by me.

"Hey," I say quietly. "How are you, sis?"

"Ashton?"

"Yeah."

"Are you okay?"

I lean back against the chair. "I’m fine. Now tell me about you."

She lets out a soft breath. "I’m back at my apartment. Lucien’s watching out for me so... it feels safe."

I swallow. "That’s good."

Another silence stretches between us. Then Skylar speaks again.

"Asher called earlier."

"He did?"

"He said there’s going to be dinner with Dad, I mean Dean."

The word, Dad, still sounds strange when it refers to Dean Sawyer. I guess it will never be easy for me to address anyone like that without feeling some weight. Even Brett doesn’t get to hear that from me.

"He asked me to come," she adds. "But I think you should convince them to leave me out of it."

"Why?"

She hesitates. "Because this is... something he’s been waiting for his whole life. Getting his sons back was the pinnacle of his existence. I don’t want to ruin that."

Something in her voice catches my attention. It’s the same hollow note I’ve been hearing in my own thoughts lately.

"You won’t ruin anything, Skylar" I say gently. "You’re also family."

"Ruining shit happens to be my forte." She laughs nervously. I imagine she’s indeed uncomfortable with the idea.

I stare at the club lights reflecting off the whiskey bottle. "None of us really know what we’re doing. I’m the violent brother, remember?" She chuckles with me this time around.

The line goes quiet again. There’s something else I want to ask, something that’s been gnawing at the back of my mind since we discovered the truth about our birth family.

Curiosity pushes past my hesitation.

"Skylar..."

"Yeah?"

"What was our mom like?" The use of mom is deliberate. I have a keen sense that the woman who gave birth to me would be easier to be called mom rather than mother.

The question feels heavier once it’s spoken aloud. For a moment, she doesn’t answer.

"Come over." she finally says softly. "This is better discussed in person."

***

Her apartment is warm and softly lit when I arrive. Skylar opens the door almost immediately, like she’d been standing on the other side waiting. Her eyes scan my face carefully.

"You look terrible," she says.

"Thanks."

"I mean it." She steps aside so I can walk in. I catch a faint scent of vanilla in the air.

She disappears into the kitchen and returns with a glass of water, pressing it into my hand like I’m a patient she’s trying to stabilize.

"You should drink that."

I take a sip while she studies me for another moment.

"So," she says carefully, sitting across from me. "How’s Demi?"

The name drop almost leaves a bruise in my heart. Carefully, I set the glass aside.

"She uh...she left."

Skylar freezes. "What?"

"She left Danvarr."

Her shoulders sag. Something akin to guilt flickers across her face. "I’m sorry."

"For what?"

She looks down at her hands. "Don’t get mad, ok? The last time I saw her... I wasn’t exactly kind."

My brows knit together. I sit up straight. "What do you mean....what happened?"

Skylar takes a slow breath. "It was at Kat’s house. She came in very late at night, half-drenched by the rain. She was in a state, crying and talking to Kat’s mom. I overheard some of their conversation and lost my patience." Her voice drops. "I told her if she couldn’t forgive you for her parents, she should stop stringing you along."

A cold knot forms in my stomach as I imagine their exchange.

"I told her she should leave Danvarr if all she was going to do was keep throwing her parents’ deaths in your face and blaming you for everything."

Her voice trembles. "I didn’t realize at the time how harsh that might have come off. I was angry. Demi looked so hurt afterwards. I didn’t think she’d actually... do it."

The room falls very quiet. Skylar glances up nervously at me.

"Are you angry at me?"

Instead of answering, I stand and pull her into a hug. She stiffens in surprise before relaxing.

"You didn’t do anything wrong."

"But..."

"Maybe distance is what Demi and I need to figure things out. And, thank you for sticking up for me."

After a moment, I pull back. Skylar wrings her hands.

"Do the others hate me though? Asher, Ashley and Ashal?"

My brows rise. "Why would you think that?"

"They never visit me or call as often as you do. You’re the only one who makes time for me."

I sit back down and sigh. "They care about you, Skye, but our lives are... complicated. It’s always been busy and complicated to the point where it’s extremely tough to keep track. And to be fair, we’re still getting used to having a sis."

"That’s not exactly comforting."

"They always make sure I keep them updated. It doesn’t mean they don’t care."

She shrugs weakly. I study her for a moment. "You know, you haven’t exactly made it easy either."

Her eyes widen.

"You keep your distance from them too. You don’t call or text them first."

She looks down at her feet. "I guess that’s true."

I inhale sharply. "It’s hard to bond with someone who acts like she’d rather be somewhere else."

A small smile touches her lips. "I guess I’m a terrible sister."

"No, you’re a cautious one."

She nods slowly. Then her expression shifts. "Dad told me a little about Mom. He never speaks much about her." Her fingers trace the rim of her glass.

"I want to know more than fragments about our mom."

She meets my eyes. "You should make him talk, then. I have tried my best. I have cried, begged, thrown tantrums but somehow, nothing works with dad."

"Why do you think I can untangle his tongue?"

"Because he won’t say no to you. You don’t get how obsessed he is with pleasing his quads. He’ll hold nothing back if you ask the questions."

I nod to that. "I think about it, if you come to dinner with us. You’re part of the family and it’s high time you impress that on Dean’s mind."

She hesitates and I rush to add. "I’ll ask him about mom if you come."

After a moment, she sighs. "Fine. I’ll be there."

***

Dinner with Dean Sawyer is exactly as awkward as I expected. The restaurant is quiet and elegant, all dim lighting and polished silverware. Dean sits at the head of the table. Skylar is beside him.

My brothers and I are spread around them like strangers forced into proximity by a family reunion no one knows how to navigate. Ten minutes pass in painful silence.

Asher’s phone rings again and again. He steps outside to take calls like the building might collapse if he ignores them. Ashley is texting on his phone with furious focus. Ashal stares into the middle distance like he’s solving equations no one else can see. Skylar barely speaks.

And I? I simply poke at my food, trying not to worry about Demi or how she’s settling in at the town Anna surprisingly won’t tell me about.

Finally, Asher returns and drops into his chair. He slips his phone into his pocket and fixes Dean with a sharp look.

"Alright. Sorry about that. Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?" His gaze sweeps the table. "We’re going to ask questions, Dean."

Dean blinks. "Alright. That’s fair."

"My brothers and I will each ask..."

"Skylar too." I interrupt Asher. I glance at Skylar. "She’s here and she’s every bit his child as he claims we are. She should ask questions too."

Asher nods once. "Of course. Sorry about that." Then he looks back at Dean. "All of us will ask you questions and I think your honest replies should be a given." Dean agrees.

"First question." Asher folds his hands. "What’s your net worth? I need a ballpark."

Everyone at the table freezes, including me. It was not so much a surprise at Asher’s question, because he’s slightly predictable. It’s the directness and bluntness of it that astounds us.

Dean stares at him. Then he bursts out laughing. "You’re serious?"

"Very."

Dean shakes his head but answers anyway. The number he gives makes all four of us exchange glances. It’s in the same range as the Rollins fortune.

"You’re surprised," Dean says.

Ashley sets his phone down. "I know you are doing well but I never thought you were like...a billionaire."

Dean smiles faintly. "I lost too much in my life due to poverty to ever entertain it again. My company manages international shipping logistics." He goes on to explain further; cargo routes, freight contracts, infrastructure networks that move goods across continents.

"It’s quiet work but incredibly profitable." I meet his eyes as he speaks. The aspect of it being quiet is a silent promise of normalcy and privacy, something we can’t relate to at Rollins Group.

"Each of you owns significant shares already," Dean adds calmly. "You’ll never have to worry about money. That’s my promise to you."

Asher nods sagely. "I’d prefer documented proof."

Dean chuckles. "You’ll have it first thing tomorrow morning."

I clear my throat. "My turn."

Dean looks at me expectantly, his face slightly turning grim as I didn’t share Asher’s smile.

"I understand you spent years keeping tabs on my brothers and I. I understand why you’d do that as a parent. What I don’t understand is why you let your obsession make you fail to be present for Skylar, the child you actually raised."

The question lands heavily on the table. Skylar dips her eyes to her untouched meal.

Dean’s expression changes. Pain flickers across his face. Unfazed, I press on. "You neglected her. It’s pretty obvious. I’d be mad too if I was in her shoes, watching you pine for my siblings and act like I was never enough for years."

Dean exhales, turning to Skylar. He tries to take her hand but she doesn’t let him. "I never meant to make her feel that way. I was overwhelmed with grief during her infant years. The only way I could cope outside of alcohol or drugs was to keep my distance from the one child who bore a striking resemblance to the woman I was grieving."

Skylar goes still. Tears glisten in her eyes.

Dean’s voice cracks. "Every time I looked at her... I saw the woman I lost. The fresh wave of pain set me back in my healing journey. I wasn’t strong enough to handle that grief."

The confession hangs in the air.

"So, you stayed away? You sent me away to live like an orphan." Skylar whispers.

"I thought time would help me heal and grow to become the father you deserved. It took longer than I hoped and by the time I tried to fix things... you were already grown with the strongest will I ever saw. You kicked against me. We fought a lot and I guess I just kept lying to myself that we would be able to fix our family once I united us with your brothers."

Skylar’s eyes shine with unshed tears. She wipes at them. "Do you have pictures of Mom? I’ll love to see them."

He nods. "I’ll have them framed and sent to you."

Everyone sits still for the heaviness in the air to pass. Asher took a sip of water. Ashley leans back and clears his throat.

"So, what do you want from all this? What do you hope to achieve after all these meetings are done?"

Dean studies us quietly. "If I’m honest... I’ve wanted my sons back from the day they were parted from me. Over the years, I spent a lot of time obsessing over the kind of life you’ve had, the schools you were enrolled in, your first jobs." His gaze softens. "It took a while but I’ve realized how much work you guys have put into Rollins Group. It’s yours as much as it’s your parents’. "

He spreads his hands. "Plus, you’re all grown now. No one can make you do anything you don’t approve of. So, I’m more than happy to just be a part of your lives."

Another awkward silence stretches

Ashal speaks for the first time. "I have no questions."

Dean opens his mouth to address that but Asher raises a hand.

"When he has questions, he’ll ask," Asher says calmly.

Dinner ends not long after. It warms my heart when Skylar awkwardly walks up to my brothers to join their conversation. I love that she’s making an effort too. My eyes dart around, looking for Dean. I later find him alone near the parking lot. He just got off the phone.

"Do you have a photo of her?" I blurt out.

He turns, surprised to see me. "Ashal?"

"It’s Ashton."

"Oh. Sorry. I’m still getting used to..." He chuckles the rest off.

"It’s fine."

While he works his phone, he begins the small talk. "Your mom would never have mixed you guys up even if she had been parted from you. She had a way of telling you apart even as babies with no real markers."

He turns the phone screen toward me and my breath catches. The woman in the picture has Skylar’s eyes and a smile that feels strangely familiar to hers too.

For a moment I can’t speak.

"Your mother," Dean says quietly. "Vivienne."

I stare at the image and for the first time in my life...I feel like I’m looking at a piece of myself I never knew existed. The words spill out of my mouth before I can stop myself.

"Mom."