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Bound to her Fake Fiancé Boss: A Fun Sexy Feel Good Billionaire Office Romance

Page 23

by Hayson Manning


  “Why break the habit of a lifetime?”

  Why indeed.

  It’s late, and I’m shrugging on my jacket when Jason appears at my desk.

  “Gabriel is ready to take you home.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “I have a thing.”

  I nod and continue trying to get my arms into holes that are weirdly too small.

  “Gabriel is not taking me home,” I insist for the millionth time.

  He sighs, takes the jacket, and promptly dresses me, patting my shoulders. I look into his mixed-martial-art eyes. “You have a date?” I smooth my hands down my dress. God, why does my heart wither and my stupid throat tighten? He could have four hundred swipers lined up, makes no difference to me.

  “I do not have a date. Some of the guys are in town, and we’re catching hoops.”

  Trying to picture Jason laughing, joking with other guys, and shooting hoops makes me smile.

  “What’s funny?” We’re walking toward the elevator.

  “I didn’t think white men could jump.”

  “Twenty feet if I have to.” He smiles at me, then his face turns serious. “Please let Gabriel take you home.”

  “No. I’m your Personal Assistant only. We’ve established those boundaries. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  The door pings open, and we’re standing in the marble expanse.

  “I’ll be in late.” He digs his hands into his pockets.

  “I know, I’ve seen your schedule. Director’s meeting. Give my love to Cynthia. See you at nine.”

  To anyone else, nine would be an acceptable time to arrive at work. There will be exhausted committee members on the Zoom call tomorrow morning, hiding their PJs under suits.

  I nod goodbye to Jason, who heads toward the elevator that will take him to P1. He has his own direct elevator but has rarely used it in the last month. I head over to Mostly Harmless Pete, who grins when he sees me. Soon Jason is forgotten as Pete tells me about his day.

  Later that night, I’m getting ready for bed. Super cute goat PJs are on, teeth are brushed, and I’m clean and moisturized. Blossom is curled up on the bed. I set the alarm on my phone and tip into sleep.

  A hissing pulls me from an erotic dream involving a tall, dark, and complicated man plowing into me from behind.

  I jerk awake when I’m pulled from bed by my hair. A booted foot lands in my stomach, punching panic and air out of my lungs. I struggle until a body lowers onto my pelvis, and before I can connect a kick, my wrists are bound by a belt. I stare into familiar dead eyes.

  “Van, what are you doing?” I struggle against his hold and I’m rewarded with a punch to the face. Pain and panic splinter through me.

  Jamaica’s boyfriend has always creeped me out by the way he stares at me, but I’d never sensed violence in him.

  Until now.

  “Why’d you send him?”

  I’m struggling to turn my head to see if Jamaica is here, but he grabs my chin and, with bruising fingers, pulls my face to him. I stare into hate-filled eyes.

  “Why, bitch? I got fucking people all over my life that I don’t want in my life. How the fuck can you afford that fucker Harlan Franco and his security company? I’ve had to shift two states because of you and him.”

  I’m at a total loss.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” My left eye is blurry, and my scalp is on fire.

  “You find anything to pawn?” He speaks softly over his shoulder, and my sister comes into view.

  “Why?” I whisper, taking her in. She’s thin, way too thin, jittery, her nails are bitten, her once long, thick hair is stringy and filthy. And she’s high.

  She shakes her head. “No jewelry.”

  “Box up any shit we can pawn.”

  She won’t look me in the eye. “Jamaica. I can help you. Please let—”

  Van’s hand moves to my neck, and he squeezes hard. Black dots form in my eyes, and I’m clawing at his hand. My chest is on fire, my lungs are bursting.

  “You always thought you were too good for me, bitch.” One hand moves to my breast, and he squeezes until I cry out. “Bet you like it rough. Might do you a solid and come back later and see how tight your uptight cunt is.”

  Oh, God. Oh, God. No.

  I can hear my sister moving around the apartment. I’m shallow breathing to keep some sort of flow of air into my body. Breathing is keeping me alive, along with adrenaline.

  Jamaica comes into view and stares down at me. I don’t know this woman. She isn’t the girl I played pool with, who hung out and brushed my hair, who swapped out Kinder eggs when I got a dud one like an ornamental elephant instead of a grader you had to build.

  “I don’t want your help, Asia. I don’t want you checking me into rehab. This is my life. The life I choose.”

  My soul splits in two, along with my heart. Ripped apart with a chainsaw. Cut me open, and I’m bleeding love.

  “Fuck, I’m getting hard just sitting on you.” Van scans my body, and he grinds into me. Jamaica wanders the apartment putting stuff into boxes, totally oblivious, or not caring that her boyfriend is grinding his dick into her sister.

  “Please, Jamaica.” I try desperately to pull away, but Van’s grip around my neck tightens.

  “Got everything,” my sister finally says without a shred of love in her eyes. My stuff is a way to her next fix.

  “I’ll be back, uppity bitch.” Van stands and smiles down at me. “I’m going to fuck every hole you have before I break you.” He rears his fist back, and I remember my head hitting the floor.

  “Asia. Oh, my God.” Darlene is holding my hand. “Asia, can you hear me?”

  I’m struggling to break the surface. I like it here where I can’t feel, can’t relive the fact my sister hates me and is okay with the love of her life coming back to do me a solid and fuck every hole I have before he breaks me. I can imagine what that means, and it doesn’t come with a happy ever after.

  “Fuck this, I’m calling the police.” Brutus’s voice breaks through, and I try to sit up, but the pain in my head throbs.

  “No police,” I whisper, not because I don’t want to talk, but I think my voice box is broken, along with a few other things like my heart and my soul.

  I blindly clutch for a hand and receive two. I’m pulled into a sitting position and cover my hand over my mouth. Acid burns my throat.

  “Bowl, quick,” Darlene yells.

  “Got it,” an unfamiliar voice calls from the kitchen, then a bowl is under my chin, and I throw up last night’s dinner, my pride, and losing the only person on the planet I thought loved me.

  “Do you think you can stand?” I think that’s Darlene, but the ringing in my ear is intense.

  I shake my head and groan—I think my brain just collided with bone.

  I’m scooped up and placed on my couch. I stare into stormy eyes. “Who did this, Asia? It doesn’t look random to me.” Brutus’s eyes travel to the marks at my throat, my throbbing wrists, and I can’t open my left eye. “This personal?”

  I nod.

  Tears are flowing down my frozen face.

  “Jamaica?” Darlene says, her face tight.

  “And Van.” Terror jolts me at his threat. My hand comes to my throat.

  I try to stand, but my legs wobble. My left eye is being stabbed with a hot poker from the inside to the beat of my heart.

  “He hurt you anywhere else?” Brutus is now a six-foot-plus pissed off mountain of a man. I get what he means.

  “No, but I think he might,” I whisper. “I’ve got to get to the hardware store, I need a new lock.”

  “Babe, you need a new door.” A girl I don’t know holds a compress to my burning cheek.

  “Bronte?” Brutus says weirdly. I have no idea who Bronte is, maybe the new girl across from me.

  “Hey, John, can we talk later?”

  I’d try to figure out how they know each other, but there are three functioning brain cells, and they’re having a tequila par
ty on my dime.

  “You sure about the police?” Darlene holds my hand.

  “Yeah.” I can’t help Jamaica, that much is true, but I can’t turn her in either.

  I’m stuck between my love for her and a hard place. I should hate her, but I don’t. She doesn’t want my help, and I can’t make her, nor can I turn off the love I’ve had for her for twenty-five years.

  “The urgent care down the street opens in an hour. We’ll get you patched up, then we’ll figure out what to do.” Darlene blows out a breath.

  “No. I’m good. Darlene, you’ve got work. Brutus, you too. I’m fine.” I wave my hands in the air, my wrists pulsing in pain.

  “You are not fucking fine. You sound like you’ve eaten razor blades chased with bourbon. Your face is a fucking mess; there are handprints around your throat and a clump of your hair on the floor.” Darlene stomps to the kitchen. “I’m making you tea, then we’re going to work out a plan.”

  Tears blur my eyes. The girl I’m guessing is Bronte squeezes my hand. “Want a shower and clean clothes? Then you’ve got to tell me where you got those pajamas. Goats rule.”

  After a shower, and some God-awful tea Darlene insisted I drink because apparently it has healing powers, I send a text telling Jason and HR I won’t be in today or probably the next few days as I’m sick.

  I’m tucked on the couch with a blanket around me, dozing, when a voice jolts me from trying to figure out how to install bank locks on my door.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Jason

  “You drive slower than Miss Daisy,” I huff to Gabriel.

  “Miss Daisy didn’t drive,” he calmly informs me. “What’s the hurry, anyway? She’s sick and about to eat her body weight in soup.” He cocks an amused brow which I catch in the rearview mirror.

  I drag a hand through my hair. After encountering a panicked Pete in the foyer this morning informing me that Asia hadn’t arrived, I checked my phone to find there’s a text she’s sick and won’t be in for the next few days.

  Asia has never had a sick day, so for her to say she’ll be away for a few days is unsettling me more that it should. I’m never going to admit to Gabriel or anyone that I hate the thought of her sick, so I went to Whole Foods while Gabriel brought the car around, and ten containers of hot soup are in brown and green paper bags.

  I take the stairs two at a time. When I reach Asia’s apartment, I freeze at the door no longer on its hinges. With my heart bursting, I stalk through her door and drop the bags of soup in shock. “What the fuck!”

  Heads swivel and gape at me. One is Asia’s neighbor Darlene, and the huge guy is vaguely familiar. I give them a nod, but I only have eyes for my assistant/wife. My very beaten-up assistant/wife. My vision clouds and there’s pounding in my ears.

  “I’m okay, really. I’m okay,” Asia says.

  Nothing about this is fucking okay. I stride to her, lower myself on my haunches, and take in her face.

  “Who did this?” My voice is low, quiet, and lethal. I cup her chin gently, and she winces. I briefly close my eyes against the violence I will inflict on the person who did this. No, I will kill them by deboning them, then I’ll dig them up and bury them with someone else’s bones.

  “I’m getting it sorted. I’m getting a door and a new lock.” Her voice is rattling. It must hurt like fuck to talk.

  “You haven’t answered my question.” She has yet to look at me.

  “I’m not going to, Jason, it’s a family matter.” Her determined chin juts. Clearly, I am not family.

  I close my eyes. Her sister.

  “You’re not staying here.” I take her battered hand.

  “Agreed,” the vaguely familiar enormous man says. “I’m Brutus, by the way. I know who you are. Checked you out before her date.” He gives me a nod.

  Well, we agree on one thing. She is not staying here.

  He continues. “Bronte is on the bus bringing you a door she got from Home Depot. She’s with Kenny who just moved into apartment six zero two. They ain’t got a lock though, and since the fucker said he’d come back and fuck every hole you have before he breaks you, I agree with boss man here.”

  “What?” I whisper, my heart tanking.

  Brutus’s mouth is a straight line, and his eyes are hard. “Heard her telling Darlene when Darlene asked her to come and stay with her, which of course she won’t do because that could put them both in this fucker’s way. There’s a few guys here, and we can patrol, but if he’s a strung-out junkie looking for a fix and hates her, then he might just keep good on his promise.”

  “No,” Asia says, sounding like her voice box has been punched. “I’m fine. You don’t need to stop your lives to take care of me.” Tears streak down her beautiful face.

  “Darlene, can you make a bag and get Blossom in her carry case?” I ask.

  She nods and darts into the bedroom.

  “Asia, you’ve been looking after the homeless and feline population, now it’s time someone looks after you.”

  That someone being me.

  “I can’t afford a hotel.”

  I nod. There’s no way she’s staying at a hotel, even if it has a bank vault inside it, along with fifty-seven million magnetic locks linked to an atomic clock in Greenland.

  I wipe gently at the tears spilling down her face, sit beside her, and gently pull her into my lap, where she bursts into jaw-breaking tears. I hold her, not knowing what to do but slide my fingers through her hair. She winces when I find a bald spot, and I close my eyes against the rage narrowing my veins.

  I hold her tighter, which makes her cry harder.

  Gabriel appears in the doorway, and the murderous look on his face is exactly how I feel. He takes the bag and the cat carrier from Darlene, and after a very animated conversation leaves with a thunder cloud over his head. Darlene has her arms across her chest, eyes narrow.

  “I’m ruining your shirt.” Asia looks up at me with one watery, glassy red eye, the other swollen closed, and my heart slashes and burns.

  “I know. I’ll send you the bill.”

  She tries for a smile but winces again.

  Brutus is watching us, a smile playing on his lips. I pull my wallet from my suit pants and nod to him.

  “Get everything you need to make this Asia’s again.” I hand over my credit card and a wad of cash. I don’t know why I trust this man, but I do.

  “Everything? Even her sewing machine?”

  My molars lock, and a tic is bugging the shit out of my jaw.

  At the sound of her sewing machine, Asia stiffens, then sags.

  “Everything.” I give him a pointed look, and he grins.

  It’s time to look after my wife/assistant.

  “Hold on, baby.” I stand, and she burrows into my neck, where her tears soak my shirt. I see the marks on her wrists, and my vision clouds for a second.

  “We have your number. Call us and let us know how she’s doing.” At my puzzled look, Darlene continues. “We vetted you for the date. Even though you’re her boss and richer than God, you could still be a creeper. We had to make sure you weren’t going to keep her nipples in a container by the side of the bed or make her skin into designer handbags.” Gabriel has returned and is glowering at Darlene, who glares back.

  “We’ve got this. Look after your…” Brutus mouths the word wife across from me. One eyebrow goes up, and he grins.

  Which is exactly what I’m going to do. Take care of my wife.

  Soon we are buckled in after Gabriel pays off a group of kids who were guarding the car.

  “Can you drop me at the hotel where you have a year-round booking?” Asia is patting the cat carrier on her lap, her head down. “I’ll pay you back and, you know, when you want to use it, give me warning, and I’ll discreetly leave.”

  I take her hand and say nothing, threading her fingers in mine and not letting go. Her head rests on my shoulder, and soon she’s asleep.

  “Where to?” Gabriel asks.

&nbs
p; “You know where.” I ignore the shit-eating grin on his face. I’m on the phone to my personal physician who is now on his way to check out Asia.

  I swipe my card against the door, enter the alarm code, walk to my bedroom, and place my passed-out wife/assistant on my bed, tuck in a blanket, then hold her hand talking to her quietly until Dr. Zenobia arrives. She gives my patient a thorough examination. Shines lights into her eyes, asks her numerous questions before signaling to me to meet her in the corridor.

  “She’s had a small concussion. I’d rather she went to hospital but she refuses. Can you have someone wake her up every hour and ask the same simple questions?”

  “Of course.” I set the alarm on my phone.

  “If at any time you are concerned, and I mean outside of being grumpy about being woken every hour, phone me immediately.”

  I nod, shake her hand, and show her to the door.

  “Can you go to CVS or Walgreens and get stuff for bruising and things she might need?” I ask Gabriel. Blossom is roaming around the apartment with what is left of her tail in the air, looking down on everything—so, being a cat.

  At Gabriel’s raised eyebrows, I shake my head. “You have sisters, surely you can buy tampons and whatever women need. Deodorant, nail shit.” I throw up my hands.

  Gabriel is the only boy in his family and grew up with five sisters next to our boarding school. Every guy in the school had a thing for each of his sisters at one time. Tall, leggy blonds, they were off limits, and Gabe’s ferocious, loving dad wasn’t shy in letting us know.

  “How long is she staying?” He grins at me and takes the wad of cash I push into his chest.

  I don’t answer but glower at him.

  Another grin, then his eyes narrow. “Can I take the rest of the night off? There’s someplace I need to be.”

  “Figured you did. Of course. Take a car. I won’t be in the office for the next few days until I figure out who did this.”

  Gabe nods then leaves.

 

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