I leave the room early so as not to disturb Sienna.

This is so out of character for me but I just can’t help it, she looks like an angel when she sleeps.

It feels crazy to sneak around in my own apartment to get ready for the day because I’ve never, not even once, had a girl stay the night. They're always long gone before the sun's first rays hit Sin City.

I make them come and scream my name, and then I usher them right out the door.

Every woman I've had ends up clingy and begging for more...of me. But I just don't work that way. Giving myself to someone in any other way than physically was written off a long fucking time ago.

I need the excitement of the chase every single time or I grow bored.

So to have Sienna sleeping soundly in my bed is a new experience.

I'm not completely sure why I didn't kick her out and send her straight back to her hotel room. Maybe it's because of our history. She's an old friend and I’m looking out for her—that’s a totally valid reason to bend my standard rules.

And she's the sister of my childhood friend.

And she was in so shaken up last night.

I couldn't very well kick her out in that kind of condition. No, I'm very sure those are all great reasons this woman can be the one exception to my rule. It won't become a regular thing, that much is certain.

My private elevator descends the many floors to the administrative level. I'm dressed in my best Gucci suit, and as I walk out into the office lobby, my assistant meets me with black coffee and a list of the day's events. It's a morning ritual for us.

"Hey, Carly, how are you? How was your night?"

"Oh, Mr. Asher." She pushes her glasses up on the bridge of her nose. "You know me, cozy nights in."

"You should really go out more. You could come to the casino and try your hand at the slots."

She blushes at my inquiry into her personal life but is quick to tell me, "Sir, we've had a call from the legal department and I think you really need to get back with them right away."

"Fine, fine." I brush it off.

They're always overly prudent about handling the business of the casino. Any number of things could go wrong, and someone is always threatening to sue us. I've got the best lawyers in town, though, and they always take care of what I need.

We walk through the office, decorated in the same modern style as the casino and resort. I'm proud of this place considering I supervised everything from the ground up.

We compete for first-class luxury with the likes of the Wynn and the Bellagio. Yes, Alchema has become a power player in this glittering town, and that’s no easy feat.

Carly follows me into my private office.

It's my little place of respite from the rigors of being the casino owner. At least here I can take off my mask and I don't have to constantly socialize with everyone. It can be draining to be one of the most sought after men in town.

I sit at my oversized oak desk. "Go ahead and call them for me, Carly. I'll be waiting."

I spin around in my chair and look at the view. My huge glass windows look out at the jungle scene we've created as part of the hotel's features, and then at the Strip beyond.

No one can view this part of the exhibit, but I can see the parrots and other exotic animals comfortably from my office. An inky black jaguar stalks by below me right now.

I chose him specifically as a rescue from a circus in Asia. His name is Midnight and here he can roam around without having to turn tricks or anything.

His powerful presence reminds me of my own. I know that with my authority comes much responsibility, and Midnight helps me to remember that. It's lonely at the top, but in him, I have a reflection of myself and that at least is something. 

My phone rings and I answer, "What do you need?”

"Hi, Mr. Asher, this Mr. Mark Bryant from legal. We have some disturbing news."

If the head of the department is calling, this must be urgent.

"Well?" I ask impatiently, sitting forward in my chair.

"Someone has given a tip to the police that Alchema, and by extension you, are involved in some sort of prostitution ring."

"What?" I say, completely floored. Nothing could be more outrageous than this.

"I have my associate, a Mr. Elliott, coming by your office right now with the compelling evidence."

"Wait a minute," I say confused. "What possible evidence could there be? It's fake. You can’t produce evidence about something that doesn’t exist."

He clears his throat and is obviously uncomfortable with the nature of the conversation.

I'm not worried.

The story's completely fabricated, so there can’t be any real evidence.

Besides, stuff like this comes across my desk every day. It may not be prostitution but someone is always trying to bring me down. It comes with the territory.

When you're a powerful, successful businessman, people get jealous and want to knock you down from your lofty position.

"Fine,” I sigh. “I'll see Mr. Elliott and get back to you. The story has no merit, though, you must know that."

"Yes, yes of course, Mr. Asher. Of course. I’ll talk to you soon. Goodbye."

I wait and watch the jungle scene with fascination from behind the thick glass that insulates me from any danger. It's easy to look upon wild things from a safe distance. The danger lies in venturing out beyond the prescribed limits.

That's how I feel about Sienna.

Right now, she's tucked away safely in my bed, probably ordering room service by now.

But she’s wild and untamed. Her nature is fiery. And it would be a mistake to go there again. I need a woman I can control and someone that I don't have to get emotionally involved with. It can't be Sienna, it just that simple.

Carly’s voice interrupts my thoughts. "Mr. Asher, I have Mr. Elliott here."

“Send him in.”

The man is a weakling, small with sharp features. His pinstripe suit is a tad wrinkled and I wonder how the best law firm in town doesn't represent themselves better than this. 

"Hello, man, what have you got for me? Something about prostitution?" I’m almost amused at the idea.

Elliott clears his throat. "I'm afraid, sir, that there is corroborating evidence."

I gesture for him to take a seat and he does. I see his small eyes widen in fear as Midnight walks by the window at my back. That's one way to exude power, to have a panther at your back.

Despite his fear at the impressive beast, he tries to gather himself and he slides an envelope across the desk to me. I open it.

Fuck.

There are pictures of Sienna with that old dirtbag from last night. And there are damning photos of the two of us entering my elevator together.

"Who took these?" I ask, anger rising in my blood.

"Apparently that man in the photos with the young girl is an informant. He works directly with the police, and they’re trying to build a case against you for harboring a prostitution ring. Now, you know our firm values discretion above all else and we don't care what your...business is."

He obviously thinks it's true. He thinks that I of all people would hire a prostitute. As if I need to pay for sex.

I scoff. "She is a friend, Elliott."

"Okay, sir, whatever you say."

It's fucking infuriating that he doesn't believe me. The swine.

"The thing is," he says, twisting his fingers nervously. "That girl is Sienna Reid. She's no ordinary person. The police are planning to go to the media with the story because the only thing better than you being linked with a prostitute is you being with a prostitute who’s the sister of a very influential politician."

He nervously looks at Midnight stalking around behind me. "You see our predicament, sir."

Goddammit. The photos actually are damning evidence.

If only Sienna wasn't the sister of someone so famous at the moment.

This is yet another reason why she should watch her step and not be a fucking escort in the first place. I think about how I own her for the next thirty days, and how I might punish her for this over and over again until her pussy is dripping wet for me. 

I push the thoughts away and focus back on the matter at hand. "How much will it take to make this go away? Everything has a price. Everyone can be bought."

He clears his throat and pulls at his tie. "Well, um, that may be a possibility yet. Let me just go over some things so that I can supply you with more information. I have an idea, but it will require more facts."

"Fine, do whatever. But your office better have this handled or else our patronage will go to someone else."

He gulps. If he loses our business, he’ll lose his job. I’ve put his firm in a very prestigious position and without me, they’ll lose a majority of their clientele. 

The man takes his leave and I’m left to figure out how my entire day has just gone to shit and it’s not even 9 a.m.

I think about the man last night and how he was a spy the entire time. Mr. Mothballs? It’s absurd. Though he sure didn't mind making advances on Sienna. What a pervert. He took his undercover work too far by putting his hands all over her body. A weird sense of possessiveness rushes over me. I feel like I want to kill the guy—and any other that would attempt to defile my new little plaything. 

I wish I never left the penthouse this morning and that I was back upstairs, making her see that I intend to make the most of my purchase.