Asher Black: A Fake Fiance Mafia Romance Novel (The Five Syndicates Book 1)

by Parker S. Huntington

  I look good.

  It’s almost weird.

  Last time I saw Aimee, I was wearing my own raggedy clothes. Now, I’m wearing handmade, one of a kind creations. Is this what Julia Roberts’ character feels like in Pretty Woman? Two parts princess, one part whore?

  Xavier and I take one of the many town cars parked in the private garage. Apparently, all the identical cars do belong to Asher, but they’re assigned to an employee during their tenure working for Asher. The employees leave the cars parked in the garage for security and practicality purposes.

  The town car we’re in is black, roomy and filled with cream colored leather seats. I’m not focused on the softness of the seats, though. My nose is pressed against the window as we exit into the streets. I’m wide eyed, body humming in anticipation, as I catch sight of New York from ground level for the first time in almost a month.

  I feel like a prisoner being released. The experience of freedom is almost too overwhelming. When I move to roll down the window, Xavier rolls it back up and locks it, saying something about a potential security risk.

  I don’t mind, because Carmen’s is only a block away. We could have walked, really. It’s far more practical than finding parking in New York City, especially near campus.

  Turns out, we don’t have to worry about parking, since Xavier parks in a no parking zone without a care in the world.

  “We’re not going to have a car to come back to when we leave.” Frowning, I point at the sign that reads, “Tow Zone.”

  Xavier nods towards the front license plate. “They won’t tow this car or ticket it.”

  I look at it. My eyes bulge when I realize they’re diplomatic plates. Seriously? How does one acquire diplomatic plates without actually being a diplomat? The amount of clout Asher has is astounding. I may have to steal a car from him when this is all done. I can get used to parking wherever I want in New York City.

  Carmen’s is a family owned bar, whose main customers are students. I see a lot of them as I walk in. Most of them are congregated at the bar area, watching some sports game. The guys are watching the game, but the girls are watching the guys. It’s a sight so familiar it’s comforting.

  I pass the bar area entirely and seat myself at one of the booths in the far back corner. Xavier, thankfully, sits himself at a different table while I wait for Aimee. He’s far enough that I’ll have privacy but close enough that he can get to me quickly if something goes wrong.

  “I hate you. You missed—I don’t know—about four of our scheduled weekly lunches and dinners, you bitch.” Aimee sits down across from me, her arms crossed, clearly expecting me to grovel.

  “You can blame Asher for that. I was being held hostage.” I turn the tables. “You didn’t think to come save me?” A fleeting smile crosses my lips as I mock, “You bitch.”

  Aimee rolls her eyes and holds up her phone. “I didn’t even get an SOS text. Not a single one.”

  She’s right. I didn’t want her to call in the cavalry. A few days into the engagement, I signed a formal contract, outlining the details of my arrangement with Asher. I’m getting a lot out of this deal. In addition to the free housing, food, job recommendation and clothes, he’s prepared to give me a condo in the area and a $2.5 million divorce settlement upon our separation.

  We’ll be getting married quietly in a courthouse sometime within the next year and divorcing a year after that. All in all, I’ll be committing two years to this ruse, but I’ll be financially secure for the rest of my life. It’s a generous offer, one Asher certainly didn’t have to offer me.

  But I’m starting to see why he did.

  It’s the bait, and I’ve taken it—hook, line and sinker.

  No way am I going to ruin this for myself, even if I do have to hide in his penthouse while I wait for some damn clothes to be made. God forbid I make a fashion faux paus and embarrass Asher.

  I sigh and give her the apology she deserves. “I’m sorry. I really have missed you.”

  And I have. When she was my roommate, I often found myself needing space from her. But now that she isn’t, I find myself missing her. I’ve heard the saying “you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone” before, but I never knew it applies to friendships, too.

  Like all lessons in life, I learned the hard way.

  Her eyes are glistening as she says, “I didn’t realize how important you are to me until you vanished off the face of the planet.”

  I’m glad it’s not just me. My heart swells at her words, though I try to steer our conversation away from the heavy stuff. I’ve never been too good at talking about feelings.

  “I didn’t vanish! You could’ve come visit me.”

  “I tried.”

  “What?!” I’m angry now. “And they didn’t let you up?”

  “No.” A faint blush spreads across her face.

  I’ve never seen her blush before, and it causes me to sit up straight.

  She admits, “I couldn’t bring myself to go up. I was outside the building, too. I just saw all of these guards, and it was pretty intimidating.”

  Shocked doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling right now. Aimee is the fearless one between the two of us, yet here I am, living in a building she’s afraid to enter. When did the tables turn in our friendship? How did we get here?

  “It’s not as scary as you’re picturing. It’s actually a really nice place.”

  Her eyes dart cautiously to Xavier’s table. Her tone is gentle but serious when she asks in a whisper, “Are you in danger, Lucy? You would tell me if you are, right? I promise I’ll take it seriously.”

  My heart warms, unfamiliar with being cared for but liking it nevertheless. “I’m safe, Aimee. I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t feel right. There are contracts and agreements in place to protect me if anything goes wrong. The only way I see this going wrong is if I breach the contract, which I have no reason to. I’m being treated well, and I’ll gain so much from this when it’s over. This is a smart decision for me.”

  “If you say so. I trust you.” And then my best friend is back, smirk and all. “Have you fucked him yet?”

  I scowl. “No, you perv! Can we not focus on my nonexistent sex life and talk about something else?”

  “You’ve been living with Asher Black for a month, and you still haven’t gotten laid?! Now, I know you’re a lesbian.”

  “I am not a lesbian,” I say just as a waiter approaches us. I recognize him from one of my genome labs.

  “What’s wrong with lesbians?” he asks, a charming grin on his face, probably from catching two pretty girls talking about lesbianism.

  “Nothing is wrong with being a lesbian.” I try to keep a blush off my face. “I’m just not one.” I hold up my left hand as proof.

  We all eye the ring on my ring finger. It’s a beautiful 5-karat, princess cut diamond valued in the six figures. Monica was actually the one to give it to me. Asher was at a meeting in Los Angeles when she barged into the bedroom and threw the velvet ring box onto the bed. She gave me a vicious sneer and left without saying anything. The whole thing made me pity her.

  Aimee’s eyes widen. “Wow, that’s some rock.”

  “So, the rumors are true?” the waiter says. “When I didn’t see you in lab, I kind of assumed the worst.”

  “And what would the worst be?” Aimee asks saucily. Her arms are crossed, and she has a defensive look on her face.

  I love her for it.

  He mumbles, “Ya know… That maybe she flunked out or switched class sections or… waskilledbyAsherBlack.”

  “What was that last part?” Aimee asks for me.

  He eyes Xavier warily, turning his body to put more distance between himself and Xavier’s table. It doesn’t really work, and it only makes Xavier more suspicious. I see him leaning forward, but I cut him off with a small shake of my head. He nods and relaxes in his seat.

  The waiter says, a little slower this time, “I thought maybe she was killed by
Asher Black.”

  “And why would you think that?” I ask.

  “Because he’s in the mob.” His voice is defensive with a dash of hysteria.

  “Allegedly,” Aimee butts in, like the best friend she truly is.

  “I’ll take some carne asada fries,” Xavier says loudly from the next table over. He’s looking at the waiter, who fumbles and drops his pen.

  “Oooh! Me, too!” I raise my hand like a child, eager to chase away the tension with some great food.

  “Ditto.” Aimee leans back in her seat. Her arms are no longer crossed, and her facial expression is back to normal.

  The guy nods his head and runs away, his face pointed downward and shoulders slumped. I almost feel bad for him. I make a mental note to tip him well.

  “So, speaking of missing classes, how have you not been dismissed from Wilton? When I missed one of my business law sessions last week, I got a sternly worded email from the Dean of Jefferson.” She’s referring to the name of Wilton’s business school, the Jefferson School of Business. “Seriously, it made me feel like I was being spanked via email.” A canary grin stretches across her signature red lips. “Have you seen Jefferson’s dean? I’d let him spank me any day.”

  When I don’t even groan at her one track mind, I realize how much I’ve missed her. “I bet your head is just a never ending stream of Tumblr porn.”

  “Basically, and every guy featured is hung like a horse. And in this magical world of mental Tumblr porn, I have your 32 triple Ds.”

  I cross my arms over my chest, self-consciously. “They’re only triple Ds at Victoria’s Secret. I swear, their cup sizes are one size too small. A C-cup at Victoria’s Secret is really a B-cup everywhere else.”

  She nods her head in agreement. “Very true. It’s why I shop there.” She snaps the strap of her bra. “Gotta turn these Bs into Cs however I can.” She gives me a knowing look. “Stop changing the subject.”

  She’s impossible.

  “You’re the one that brought up your dean an—”

  “My dean? I like the sound of that.”

  “—and spanking,” I finish, ignoring her comment. “But to answer your question, my professors have been emailing me with coursework. I turn in my assignments through email. In lieu of my labs, I’ve been turning in essays based on the practical applications of the skills learned in the given week’s lab. When I have a test, a proctor gets sent over to the penthouse with the exam and hovers over me while I finish.”

  I smirk at the last part. When one of the proctors got too close to me during a stats exam, Xavier had her pinned against the wall in seconds. She was married, but that didn’t stop her from enjoying his touch. I could see it in the way her pupils dilated and she pressed her body harder into Xavier’s. She sent flirtatious smiles Xavier’s way for the rest of the testing period. They went unreturned.

  Aimee is silent for a moment. “It’s Asher’s connections that are giving you this hookup, right?”

  I nod. “Probably. It kind of just happened. The professors just started to email me lecture slides, notes and assignments out of nowhere, and I never asked how they knew I’d be gone. I kind of just assumed it was Asher’s doing.”

  There’s a foreign wariness in her eyes. “It doesn’t scare you that he has this kind of clout at Wilton?”

  I understand her worries. I do. Wilton is notorious for valuing intellect over wealth and power. They don’t do favorites at Wilton, yet here I am, being given preferential treatment because of my connection to Asher. I doubt anyone will say a word about it when I get back either. Not even the students, though they have every right to complain about my special treatment.

  I’m starting to notice that, when Asher does something, no one has the guts to question him. The only thing that makes me uneasy about it is the dooming inevitability of something going wrong. You can’t be untouchable forever.

  “No,” I tell her. “Honestly, he doesn’t scare me.”

  Her eyes narrow. “Bullshit. I’ve seen you around him. Even though you’re lusting for him, there’s fear there.”

  I remember my conversation with him about running. “Of course, there was some fear at first. I would have been stupid not to fear him. But now, I’m comfortable around him. He has no reason to hurt me. In fact, it’s the opposite. I have a full protection detail. It’s not just Xavier in it.”

  We both glance at Xavier, who somehow got his carne asada fries first. He’s already halfway done with his plate.

  I continue, thinking about my app full of Asher flashcards, detailing his rough childhood. “I know him better now. I understand why he is the way he is. I’m not afraid of him.”

  And a part of me never was, I realize. At any moment since I met him, I could have fled. I could have run from this country, but I didn’t.

  I wonder if there’s more to that decision than my unwillingness to sacrifice my degree. As frightening as it is to admit, my fight or flight responses have never kicked in around Asher. Maybe my subconscious has never seen him as a threat.

  Aimee’s eyes study me carefully. “Do you like him?”

  “No!” I’m quick to deny it, but I have to admit, “I am more attracted to him than I was a month ago.”

  Her eyes widen. “You were really attracted to him a month ago.”

  “Yeah.”

  “A month ago, you were dry humping him on the dance floor at Rogue.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And now you’re even more attracted to him?”

  “Yeah.”

  She leans back. “Whoa. Are you sure you guys haven’t had sex yet?”

  I groan and am thankful when a server drops the food off, cutting off any further conversation. Because if I’m being honest, I won’t be able to say “no” if Asher asks. Sex will just make this arrangement far more complicated than it needs to be, so I almost hope he doesn’t ask.

  But, then again, I can’t keep Horny Lucy away forever. Two more years without sex will be the death of me. I know this with absolute certainty. It’s even worse that I’m living with the hottest man alive.

  Seriously.

  Asher was named People Magazine’s Hottest Man of the Year both years I was out of the country. He’s probably a shoo in for this year, too.

  The waiter comes by with an empty plate for Aimee. She puts all the carne asada from the top of the fries onto it and slides the plate over to me. Xavier leans over and steals the plate, reminding me that he’s not only paying attention to everyone else in the bar but also us, too.

  I stare at her “carne asada” fries, which is just cheese, beans, salsa, and guacamole now. “Why don’t you just order the fries without the meat?”

  She lifts a fry into her mouth. “Because they charge the same price even without the meat.”

  “So you order the meat even though you won’t eat it?”

  She shrugs. “Someone else always does.”

  We both look at Xavier, who’s already done eating the steak. He’s scanning the bar for “potential threats.” I swear, those are his two favorite words. I wonder what will happen if he ever sees a potential threat.

  I spot a glimpse of distinctly red hair from behind Xavier and groan, because she’s most definitely a potential threat. “Wicked Witch up ahead.”

  A glower crosses Aimee’s face when she sees Minka with her crew, Nella and some other girl I don’t know the name of. They haven’t caught sight of us yet, but I have no doubt they eventually will.

  Minka is a supernatural force of nature. She probably has a Team Aimee radar jammed somewhere in that size double zero sundress of hers.

  “I don’t know why she’s even here. It’s not like she eats.” Aimee pushes her food away from her and stands up. “I think I just lost my appetite. I have to pee.” She moves to go but stops when she sees me stealing her guacamole. Her eyes narrow. “I didn’t actually lose my appetite. It’s just something people say when they see something disgusting.”

  “I know.” I smil
e and dip a fry in the guac. “You snooze you lose.”

  I watch as she makes her way to the bathroom. Once she’s in the door and out of sight, the loud murmuring in the restaurant swiftly dies down.

  I find the source of the silence immediately.

  Asher’s here.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Courage is contagious.

  When a brave man takes

  a stand, the spines of

  others are stiffened.

  Billy Graham

  Asher is making his way toward me, dressed in a tailored three piece suit. Tommy’s work, no doubt. It’s all dark grey, along with the button down and tie. Whereas the button down is a silky Egyptian cotton, the suit is a lightweight wool, single breasted with slim lapels running down the front.

  Wow.

  He looks like he stepped off the cover of GQ. He returns the heat in my eyes with a searing glance of his own. The turtleneck I’m wearing shows no skin, yet I feel sexy in it. It’s tight, and I can see Asher’s approval as he runs his eyes down my torso, stopping for a second longer on my breasts, like he has done in the past.

  He takes in the seating arrangement, eyeing Aimee’s food with a frown. After nodding to Xavier, he unbuttons both buttons on his suit jacket and takes a seat beside me. I see a flash of a holstered gun before the flap of his suit swings shut again.

  As he slides in, I’m pushed further into the booth until I’m against the wall. It’s a little too small for the two of us, especially given how huge Asher is, so I’m entirely aware of the way the sides of our bodies are pressed tightly together.

  When he leans over and kisses my temple, I forget to breathe.

  “What are you doing here?” I eye the restroom door, hoping Aimee will hurry up and come back.

  “Meeting my fiancée and her best friend for an early dinner. I wouldn’t want anyone thinking there’s trouble in paradise.” He says the last sentence sarcastically before pulling out his phone and typing something into it. Once he’s done, he hands the device to me.