Zachary’s POV
Zara inviting us over for dinner was something I’d actually been looking forward to. Not just because I’d get to see my wife—who I missed more than I cared to admit—but because I’d get to rattle Asher. And I lived for that. The tension in his jaw, the way his eyes practically burned holes through me from across the table—it was delicious. Just like now, his glare could melt steel, and I couldn’t stop the smirk tugging at my lips.
“What is wrong with you, Zara? Why are they here?” Asher’s voice cut through the air, laced with irritation barely held in check.
Zara scoffed, tilting her head as she met his eyes. “Why can’t I invite them? They’re your family.”
Asher’s hand curled into a fist on the table, the muscles in his forearm tightening. “They’re not my family,” he growl
