I inventory the situation, knowing I need to do so as quickly as possible. Too much time has already passed since Steve arrived, and he’s standing there awkwardly, his fanatical eyes on me. Clearly, this is the reaction René expected, because he’s currently leaning back in his seat, allowing the situation to run its course.
As I consider my options, I realize why René brought Steve here. If he knows about Steve, he knows what happened. He knows that I ran. He thinks I’ll run again, and if I run, there goes Asher’s stability.
It’s a gamble on René’s part, and he looks so certain that I’m not sure if he realizes that he’s gambling.
He doesn’t know me well enough to know I’ll run. He’s just assuming it based on my past decisions, but I’m not that girl anymore. I have a future that I refuse to part with. I have Aimee and Tommy and Xavier and even Eduardo.
I also have Asher.
So, I grip Asher’s hand for strength and say to René, “What is this?”
Now that I’m no longer shaking, Asher straightens himself and his hand lands on my thigh. He squeezes it. It may be a warning or it may be a question. Either way, I ignore it. I need to do this. René wanted to catch me off guard, and it worked. But I’m not about to let him win.
I want to ruin him.
He let my demons back into my life, and he did it to hurt Asher.
That’s not something I’ll ever let him get away with.
“What do you mean?” René is grinning widely now. “Is there a problem? I thought you’d be happy to see your dad. I mean, you were an orphan, and this kind man took you in. You could at least be a little more grateful.”
Beside him, Steve nods enthusiastically, but I can’t stomach the sight of him, so I quickly avert my eyes. That only makes René smile wider. He thinks he’s winning.
I narrow my eyes, but keep my voice level. It takes a lot of effort, but I manage. “Steve is not my dad. He fostered me for two years before my social worker removed me from his home. The government even allowed me to change my name.”
There’s no better way to take René down than with the truth, even if I have to sacrifice my heart, my dignity and my pride in exchange.
I’m satisfied when René begins to pale. He expected me to be weak, to cower in the face of a man that I allowed to hurt me. But I’m done being weak. Sitting next to me is one of the strongest men I know. I feel empowered by the knowledge that, in the short time I’ve known him, I’ve stood up to him on multiple occasions and even stood up for him on one.
So, I persist. “But if you were able to track Steve down, then you know what happened when I was just seventeen years old.”
There are some gasps around the table from those who have picked up on my insinuation, but I ignore them. I even ignore how tense Asher has gotten beside me.
I lean forward and go in for the kill. “What kind of man brings a pedophile and possible rapist to a party when he knows the victim will be in attendance?”
Then, I take a moment to accept what just happened. I just sacrificed my secrets, my sanity, and my dignity for Asher. I want to say it was for me, but I know it wasn’t. I didn’t have to do this. I could have fled, like I’m so damn good at. I could have done this privately.
But instead, I did this here, in front of his board, so they can see who René is. So, come next week, they will choose Asher’s side. I aired my dirty secrets and made myself vulnerable. For Asher. And I would do it again in a heartbeat.
Amidst the ensuing silence, I make a show of eyeing René up and down, scrutinizing him carefully for theatrical emphasis. “What kind of man are you, René? Because you certainly don’t seem like one fit to sit on the board.” I turn to the men at the table and ask, “What do you guys think?”
I’m putting them on the spot. Those in René’s corner don’t have time to come up with excuses for him. And if they disagree now, there will be a stronger rift within the board, and they’d be on the losing side. I see the defeat in Martin and his wife’s faces, and it almost makes sitting in Steve’s presence worth it.
Before they can speak, René, white-faced and fury-eyed, turns to his coworkers and says, “She’s lying.”
His words reek of desperation. He can’t refute any of my claims. I have the truth on my side. But he doesn’t care, because if he doesn’t say something now, he’ll be over. Hell, his career at Black Enterprises is already over. But he’s not the type to go down without a fight.
It turns out that neither am I.
I admit aloud for the first time since I told my social worker, “Steve targeted me. I was underage at the time. That’s no lie.”
From the seat beside me, Madeline gasps, her hand reaching for my hand that’s on her side. I let her, but I do it to make her feel better, not because I need her comfort. I don’t need it when I have Asher. When I have myself.
René jerks forward. His mouth opens and closes and opens and closes. He’s at a loss for words, so I know he’s still flustered. But it also means he’s still trying to find a way out of this. And I won’t let him. The only way to show the board that I’m telling the truth is another confirmation straight from the other source.
I finally turn to Steve, whose eyes are still riveted by me. “My last night living with you… was that the only time you snuck into my room?”
It’s a loaded question, and only the two of us know what I’m really asking—did you just touch yourself? Or did you touch me, too?
I make sure we’re making eye contact, because I have to see if he’s telling the truth. I have to look him in the eyes for this.
His cheeks are red, and his eyes look warily around the table at everyone else but me, until they finally return to me. “That was the only time.”
Oh, God.
I hear a whimper, and I think it’s mine, but I’m too busy absorbing everything to care.
Relief like I’ve never known floods through me. I sag in my chair, wondering how to process this, whether or not I should believe him. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but for some reason, I do.
And then, I see a blur of movement, and in front of his whole company, the board, and IllumaGen’s board, Asher punches Steve across the face, sending him flying onto the floor.
Chapter Thirty
Wisdom, compassion, and
courage are the three uni-
versally recognized moral
qualities of men.
Confucius
The entire ballroom is eerily silent. When I look on the floor, I see Steve, sprawled out on the dark hardwood planks with his eyes cemented shut.
Holy shit.
Asher knocked him out.
When I finally manage to glance at Asher, he’s shaking. I don’t know if it’s from rage or not, but it’s hitting me harder than seeing Steve again.
A screech of a chair is the first sound to break the silence, and everyone turns to watch as René hauls himself out of his chair and heads my way. Asher immediately springs into action and cuts him off before he reaches me, but René still manages to lean deeply to the right and jab a finger in my direction.
“You,” he seethes. “You ruined everything.”
I’m not sure why he’s complimenting me like that, but I am sure that his behavior is extremely unprofessional and public, for his whole company to see.
But then again, so was Asher’s.
Oh, God.
The vote.
I don’t believe René will still be with Black Enterprises after tonight, but I also don’t know if Asher will either. He punched a guy in front of his company’s board, his employees, and the IllumaGen board. That’s not something a CEO fit to lead a billion dollar company does. If it happened any other way, this would certainly have been the victory René was looking for—Asher, acting violently, fueling the mafia rumors.
But it didn’t happen another way.
It happened for me.
And Asher might suffer for it.
It dawns on me what a sacrifice this is. I ma
y have pushed aside my dignity and confronted my demons for Asher, but I didn’t lose anything that I can’t gain back. Asher, on the other hand, risked his company for me. A company he loves enough to ask a complete stranger to marry him. He jeopardized that for me.
You don’t do something that big for a woman you like. You do that for a woman you love.
Oh, my God.
I think Asher loves me.
My hand instinctively reaches for his back. He’s still standing in front of me, shielding me from René, but at my touch, he leans back, pressing himself into my hand. The movement is so natural, I feel it inside of me, like he’s an extension of myself.
With my hand still on his back, I approach his side, so we’re standing next to each other.
I’m staring René straight in the eye when I say, “I’ll be getting a restraining order.”
I know nothing about law, so I don’t know if I have any legal grounds for it, but it felt like the right thing to say. Like one final jab to René in front of everyone. And then I take Asher’s hand and leave, nodding in goodbye to everyone else at the table.
I can feel thousands of eyes on us until we’re out of the room. As soon as we’re in the hallway, Xavier and Dominic appear out of nowhere. They walk us to the car, where Asher and I sit in silence until we’re back in the penthouse.
It isn’t until we’re alone in his room that Asher finally speaks.
“Why isn’t he in jail?”
“There was never any hard evidence. It was my word against his. I asked my social worker to help me leave, and she did.”
“I’ll take care of Steve.”
“Okay.”
I don’t really care anymore. I’ve risen above the pain and uncertainty Steve has caused, and I finally feel like I’m healing. But it’ll be nice to know that Steve will be taken care of and can’t hurt anyone else.
“Legally,” I add, just in case.
Asher smothers his small smile with a kiss to my forehead.
I let us simmer in silence for a moment before I say, “You love me.”
His eyes widen, but he doesn’t deny it.
So, I ask, “Why?”
When he takes a seat on the bed and gestures for me to join him, I do.
“Remember when I drove you home for the first time?” After I nod, he continues, “You were so scared of me, yet you managed to demand something in return for this arrangement. I couldn’t believe it.”
“And you loved me then?” I ask, dubiously.
He shakes his head. “No, but I’d be lying if I say I didn’t like what I saw. I started paying better attention to you after that, noticing your random bouts of bravery. Despite your fears, and there are a lot of them,”—I snort—“you’re able to overcome everything. I’ve never seen true courage like that before.
“Don’t get me wrong. I’ve seen Romano soldiers go into battle knowing they’re as good as dead, but those men aren’t afraid. They don’t have to overcome their fears in order to get the job done. But you have to, and it’s beautiful.
“And when you stuck up for me, you didn’t even have to stop and consider it. You just acted. There was something so pure about your instinct to protect me that I couldn’t help but give you a piece of my heart that day. After that, I was pretty much a goner. I fell in love with your compassion and your courage and your strength and yo—”
I cut him off with a kiss, pressing my lips against his with surprising urgency. When I pull back and say, “I don’t want to go slow anymore,” I might as well have said, “I love you.”
Because I do.
My God, I really do.
Asher is looking at me like he’s about to demand everything of me. And right now, I’d do just about anything he asks of me if it means he’ll push me onto the bed and press his lips against mine. Break my dry spell. Bare himself to me.
“Kneel,” he says, his demanding voice causing my nipples to pucker under my shirt.
“Okay, Mr. Grey,” I say, teasing him, but I do so anyway.
“Don’t. I don’t do romance novels,” he replies, and I know I’m about to be fucked.
Roughly. Passionately. Brutally.
The warning is loud and clear, but I know better. Asher may not “do” romance novels, but he is a romance novel.
I wink at him, glad to push aside the stress of the evening with playfulness, if only just for a moment. “But you would for me.”
He doesn’t deny it. “Good thing you’d never ask. For me.”
And then he stands up, my face eye level with his thighs, and walks around me, so he’s facing my back. I shiver as he trails a lone finger from my shoulder to my neck and down my spine. When he reaches the zipper of my evening gown, he tugs it downward and slides the straps of my dress off of my shoulders. The fabric slides off me, pooling around my knees in a circle of red, baring me to him completely.
He groans in appreciation when he sees that I’m not wearing a bra nor panties. The sound goes straight to my clit, and I jerk forward, humping the empty air desperately. He chuckles lightly at my eagerness and walks around me until I’m facing him.
I watch intently as he strips the jacket of his tuxedo off and begins removing his button down, each pop of a button revealing smooth, tan skin. When he slides the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, I admire the hard planes of his chest and abdomen, eyeing the light smattering of hair that dips past the V of his hipbones and down into his pants.
Unable to stop myself, I reach forward to remove his pants. My fingers fumble on his belt, barely able to slide it off in my rush. Too eager to wait, I pull his boxer briefs and pants down at once, revealing a thick, long erection that has my mouth watering in anticipation.
Asher threads his fingers through my hair until his hand is resting on the back of my head. “Open.”
As soon as my lips part, he jerks his cock forward and into my mouth. We both groan the instant my lips make contact with the head of his cock. I place my hands on his thighs in an attempt to steady myself as he fucks my face, taking what he wants from me without remorse.
He takes what he wants, but I use him right back. As he fucks my face, I inch my body closer to him until my clit is brushing against his leg. My hips shift up and down, and my body revels in the friction until I’m dripping down his leg.
Asher pulls back abruptly and grabs my arms until I’m standing. I crawl onto the bed and remain on all fours. Behind me, he runs his palm against my ass in a teasing touch before giving it a firm spank. His fingers burn a trail down to my pussy, and I let out a long moan when he traces my slit, stopping to massage my clit.
After plunging two fingers inside of me, he asks, “Would you like a safe word?”
His gruff voice betrays his lust. He’s on the edge of losing it, but so am I.
I moan at his words, barely able to let out a “no” before his fingers leave me and are quickly replaced by his cock, sinking deep into me from behind. I meet his violent thrusts with my own, grinding my ass roughly against him. My fingers grip the black sheets tightly, struggling to keep my body grounded as each solid pump of his cock pushes me forward.
I sweep my hair over one shoulder and twist it into an untied ponytail, forming a thick leash. When I hand it to him, he growls and pulls on my hair until my back arches and the pain hurts so good. After he tugs my hair back, forcing my head to turn, and kisses me roughly, biting down on my bottom lip, I come hard and uncontrollably, helplessly convulsing around his cock.
My arms wobble, weak from the intense orgasm. I put them behind my back and press them against one another, as if they’re bound by invisible cuffs. Asher groans at the sight. My face rests on the mattress, while he continues to fuck me from behind, each thrust pushing my face harder into the sheets. I can feel a second orgasm approaching, but before it reaches me, Asher pulls out and flips me over, so I’m on my back.
He sinks back into me, his eyes so dark with lust, I don’t even recognize their color. I can’t h
elp but close my eyes at the feel of him from a new position.
“Open your eyes,” he demands. “Look at me when you come again.”
When I open my eyes, our eyes lock, the connection so intense and so intimate, it’s at odds with the brutal pounding of his body into mine.
A throaty moan tears out of my lips, and I pant, “I’m so close.”
Asher leans forward, so our entire fronts are pressed together, and quickens his pace, chasing my orgasm into fruition. When my walls begin to shake around his cock, I feel his fingers wrap around my throat, lightly squeezing until the vulnerable feeling of being dominated has me coming even harder.
Not a second later, his come spills into me, and I can’t help but wish he had taken me bare. The thought of his skin against mine with no barriers has my walls gripping his cock tighter.
Asher chuckles knowingly and says, “We need to get you on birth control first.”
“I have an IUD,” I say, as he pulls out of me. “And I’m clean.”
He smirks. “I know. I am, too.”
I nod, though I already knew that. He’s too cautious to contract an STD. Asher treats his body like a temple, working out often and eating well. The only times I’ve seen him eating poorly is when he indulges me, but even then, he never eats junk food.
Asher goes to the bathroom and comes back with a warm, wet hand towel. I relax into the mattress as he wipes me down. When he stops abruptly, I open my eyes and glance at his face. He’s eyeing my neck, where the reddish beginnings of a bruise have undoubtedly begun to form.
When he speaks, it’s soft. “I’m sorry.”
A devious smirk crosses my lips. “I’m not.”
And then I grab his arms and pull him against me, claiming his lips with mine.
Earlier today, I thought I was at the beginning of like, but I realize that I’m on the opposite edge—the hazy territory, where the lips of like and love kiss, and lines get blurry. And when Asher slips into me again that night, sliding slowly in and out of me, our hands clasped together and his eyes locked on mine, I slip closer into love, dangerously past the cusp of falling into forever.
Asher Black: A Fake Fiance Mafia Romance Novel (The Five Syndicates Book 1) Page 25
