Ivy’s POV

I stole a glance at Dexter. We were having dinner together at a private lounge, an exclusive place I could escape to. It was secluded.

He was staring at me, and then he reached out, taking my hand in his. “What’s it like?”

“I can’t bear it anymore,” I replied, my voice low and tinged with frustration. “Asher makes everything so difficult. He’s... exhausting to be around.”

Dexter tilted his head, his brows furrowed in sympathy. “You don’t have to put up with him, Ivy. You’re too good for that.”

I let out a bitter laugh, swirling the wine in my glass. “Too good? Maybe. But deep down...”...