The Friday of the party, two weeks after Devin’s arrest, Asher is at the office, and I’m panicking over a dress. I hate everything I bought, which was four dresses I now need to take back. I’m standing in the closet about to try them on again when the doorbell rings. I hurry downstairs and look through the peephole to find Julie.
I open the door and she holds up clothing bags. “I understand you have a dress crisis. I brought you a couple of my favorites.”
“Luke told you,” I say, backing up so she can enter.
“Yes. Luke told me.” She walks to the island and sets the garment bag over the back of a stool. “Hopefully one of those work.”
“Thank you. I’m going to go try them.”
“Wait. Divorce talk first.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now. I was in conversations with your ex’s attorney this afternoon.” Conversations that were cleared after we determined he is being held with no bail. Also, Asher mailed my files to Devin’s criminal attorney, and he included a note: Tell Devin Marks to remember Mali, which was an obvious threat to kill him.
“Is there a problem? Of course there is. It’s Devin Marks.”
“He offered you five million to settle. I told him that’s not enough.”
“I don’t want his money,” I say. “Just make the divorce happen.”
“You’re taking the money,” she says. “Donate it to starving children if you want, but don’t leave it with that monster. And furthermore, he’s a billionaire and you didn’t sign a prenup. Considering who he is and how he behaves, you’ll get more than five million. Go try on the dresses and if they don’t work, I can go raid my closet again.”
The door opens, and Asher walks in with a garment bag in his hand. Julie glances my direction. “That’s my cue to leave. Have fun tonight. We’ll work out the money stuff next week.” She heads to the door, and Asher stops in front of me, giving me a quick kiss. “What did she mean? The money stuff?”
“She wants Devin to pay me. I said no. She ignored me.”
“Do you want the money?”
“No, but she told me donate it to a charity, and I could do that.” I wave it off. “Is that your suit for tonight?”
“No. This is a dress I picked out for you. You may hate it, but I was walking by a window and it just looked like you to me.”
I wait to feel uncomfortable, the way I had with Devin, but I don’t. “I’m eager to see it.” I indicate the other bags on the stool. “Those are from Julie.”
“Surely you can find one you like between all of these,” he says, grabbing all of the bags. “Right?”
I laugh as we start walking upstairs. “Right. Surely.”
“No ‘surely,’” he says.
“A dress is not an easy choice.”
“Holy fuck, I’m glad I’m a man.”
He sets the bags on the bed and kisses me. “I’m going to shower.”
He walks away, and I open the only bag that matters. The one from him. The minute I bring it into view, I smile. It’s a rich navy blue that is velvet with a hint of shine and figure-hugging, but in a classy way. And the neckline: Turtleneck with open shoulders to contrast. I try it on and I love it so very much. I take it back off and walk into the bathroom, where Asher is getting out of the shower and walking into the closet. I quickly touch-up my make-up and hair, and then put on the dress, which I’ve paired with black closed-toe heels with ribbon ties around the ankles.
Asher walks out of the bathroom in a dark gray suit, with a gray silk tie, just a hint of his colorful tats showing above his watch, and my jaw drops. “Wow. You look stunning.”
“You like me better like this?” he asks.
“No. I like you better the other way, the real way, but it’s hot. You’re always hot.”
He saunters toward me and stops, his hands on my waist. “You look beautiful. Just like I knew you would.”
“I know why you picked this neckline.”
“I don’t think you do.”
“The story, Asher.”
He links our fingers and walks me back into the bathroom and has me face the sink. “Close your eyes,” he says, stepping behind me.
I do as he orders, and he slips a necklace around me, which sets off butterflies in my belly.
“Open your eyes,” he says now.
I blink and bring the most stunning platinum marquis necklace into view with three tiers of flowers. It glistens in the lights, catching different colors, a perfect complement to the dress and neckline.
“That’s why I picked the neckline.” His eyes meet mine in the mirror. “Because I don’t want to tell people you’re available. I want to tell them you’re taken.” He lowers his lips to my ear. “I love you.”
My heart squeezes and I rotate to face him. “I love you, too.”
“Good. Because I’m going to need a lot of love to get through this shit tonight.”
“And sex?” I tease, since he’d once made a similar joke to me.
“Oh yeah. Lots of sex. Creative sex. Tie you up and have my way with you sex.” He turns me to the door, hands on my shoulders from behind. “Let’s go to the party so we can get back and do those things.”
I start walking and once I hit the stairs, he follows. “Adding to the list,” he says from behind me. “I might have to spank you for making me look at your ass in that dress all night, because it’s perfect.”
“Don’t look,” I say, stopping at the bottom of the steps as he joins me.
He stops in front of me. “You can’t look this beautiful and expect me not to look.” He kisses my hand and settles it at his elbow, before facing forward. “Shall we, my beautiful woman?” he asks all proper and debonair.
“Yes, we shall, my arrogant, alpha hero.”
He gives me a devastatingly sexy smile and we are on our way, but as we’re about to step into the elevator, I tug Asher to a halt. “Am I Sierra tonight?”
He catches the elevator doors. “Yes, and every night.”
“How do we explain Kelli?”
“An undercover operation we weren’t willing to pierce for him.”
“Are we good?” he asks.
“Yes. We’re very good.”
He smiles and we enter the car.
We arrive at the hotel by way of a driver and present our invitation. We’re directed to a bank of elevators and we head upstairs, along with a cluster of people and an elf. Asher and I end up crushed against the wall and he smiles. “Why are you smiling?” I mouth.
He leans down and whispers, “Aside from the fact that you’re pressed against me, this is not the way my father would want his event to go down.”
The elevator dings and we exit as a hoard of people try to enter. Once we’re out of the car there is another cluster of too many people all along our upcoming path, including a half dozen elves. Asher laughs again. “I love this.”
“You’re evil,” I say as we walk toward our event location.
“Is that a problem?”
“Maybe.”
His cellphone rings and he pulls it from his pocket to frown. “Royce. He knows we’re here. I need to take this.” He punches the Answer button. “What? When? Are you sure? Right… Yeah… Get me back up.” He ends the call.
“What just happened?”
He snags my hand and walks me toward a wall, out of the hustle of people and elves. “Everything is fine.”
“No. No it’s not because I know you. What is going on?”
“They let The Beast out.”
“What?” My heart starts to race. “When?”
“Yesterday and it was kept under wraps, but the good news is that we have confirmation that he fled the country. Even his attorney says that he’s in Switzerland, where they’re unlikely to extradite.”
“I don’t believe his attorney or anyone who works with him or for him. And you don’t either, or you wouldn’t have asked for back-up.”
“He would be a fool to come after you, Sierra.”
“Or arrogant enough to think he can get away with it. And he is that arrogant.”
“Let me rephrase. If he’s that stupid, he’ll die. End of story. It’s my end game for him anyway. I’m armed. You’re armed. He will regret it. He will die.”
“I’m armed.” I pat the sparkly purse at my hip. “I chose it to fit my weapon.”
“Good. And you know how to handle it now. Remember—”
“Shoot to kill.”
“Asher!”
He grimaces. “That would be my father.” He offers me his arm.
I inhale and accept it before forcing a smile. His father steps in front of us, and in a dark blue suit and his graying hair, he looks elegant and arrogant, much like The Beast. He proves the similarities by looking Asher up and down and saying, “If you’d cut that hair, you’d clean up nicely, despite those tattoos.”
“Then someone might think I’m like you, Father. And I’m actually not the nice one. You don’t realize that and I promise you, you hope you never do.”
His father arches a brow. “Is that some sort of threat?”
“An observation,” Asher says.
His father beats him up with a stare and then looks at me. “Twenty thousand in jewels,” he says, looking at Asher. “At least you know how to decorate. The ceremony is in an hour. Mingle until then.”
He walks away.
“You know how to decorate?!” I whisper. “He is—”
“A prick,” Asher says. “Now you see why I said I’d ruin him if I worked for him?”
“Yes. I do. Maybe we should leave?”
“Wounded Warriors, sweetheart. We’re here for them. Let’s go mingle and make some people feel the love.”
He guides me into a giant room that is dimly lit and crowded. A stage sits at the opposite side of a dance floor, while soft music fills the air played by an orchestra in the right corner, and various food stands tempt visitors. A stage is at the very front and Asher is immediately cornered by a soldier in uniform with only one leg and he gives the man his full attention, as do I. There is another soldier without an arm that is next and I end up dancing with him, as Asher dances with a female veteran. We both become completely absorbed, and the respect they have for Asher as SEAL Team Six, is overwhelming.
“I should have invited Luke,” Asher says, as we steal a spot on the dance floor. “He would have been honored to be here.”
“So your father did a good thing?”
“For the wrong reasons, but yes. They charged for the event and wrote off the costs while asking for donations tonight. But don’t let him fool you. He’s—”
“A prick. I know.”
“I will never take his money. You need to know that. He’ll pull stunts like this tonight, but it will never change anything.”
I touch his face. “I love this necklace and this dress, Asher, but I had money before you. I was miserable. I just want you.”
There is an announcement and Asher is called to the stage. He leads me that direction and finds me a seat at a table close to the front. He then leans in and kisses me. “Don’t go far.”
“I’m watching you,” I promise. “I’ll be right here.” He hesitates, like he doesn’t want to leave me, and really, I don’t want him to, but this is an important event. He turns away and heads up the nearby steps leading to the stage and I clap with the audience as his father announces him. There are wounded warriors across the stage and each tells a short story, all heart-touching, and a singer who performs a patriotic song, which really energizes the crowd. Soon people are on their feet, crowding the stage, and I do the same. Finally, Asher is called to speak and the warrior in him radiates from beneath that suit. It’s in his eyes, his grace, his power.
He begins to speak when someone nudges me from behind and grabs my arm. I turn and my heart sinks. I know him. This middle-aged graying man is Ju-Ju’s partner. He lifts his coat and shows me a gun. My heart races and I can barely breathe as he yanks me toward him, pressing his lips to my ear. “I will kill them all if you don’t come with me.”
And he will. He’s that volatile. I ease through the crowd and start walking, and he is behind me, watching me, ready to shoot. The minute we clear the room, he directs me left and we start walking. Almost immediately we turn left again and there is a stairwell door. Part of me wants to bolt, but I know others could die. The other part knows entering that stairwell makes this me against him, and that means one dies, not two. He opens the door and my hand goes to my purse. I step through the doorway and I unzip my purse.
He’s right behind me though, shoving me and I stumble forward. “Get up! Walk.”
I do it, one reach from my gun, but he’s behind me. If I move wrong, he could drop me before I can kill him. And so I charge up the stairs, but I try to keep him distracted. “It was never Ju-Ju, was it?”
“Of course not. He’s a fool. A tool. My bitch slave. He really is. He protected me. He went to jail.”
“How many have you killed?” I ask.
“Dozens. Ju-Ju, like his father, favored poison, so I humored him. Just like I humor all my seconds, but tonight it’s my way. Tonight, you’re my pick.”
“You were sloppy,” I dare, realization hitting me. “I saw you at the bank.”
“I wanted you to see me,” he says. “That’s the fun. You see it coming, but you can’t stop it.”
“It?”
“Death.”
We are now at the exit to the roof and I know that I have to act or I am dead. I push open the door and the minute I do, I pull my gun and turn, my finger on the trigger. He enters the rooftop and I shoot him in the chest. He falls to the ground and I lower my gun, just about to finally breathe. That’s when Devin appears, and he too is holding a gun, but his is pointed at me, while that moment that I lowered mine could prove fatal. The door slams behind him and now we’re alone, the lights dim, the sky dark.
“Good to see you, beautiful,” he says, and he’s actually come to kill me in an Armani suit.
“What happened to escaping to paradise?”
“Drop your gun or I will make sure you lose the hand holding it.”
He will. I know he will, and I drop my weapon, praying that Asher finds me in time. Before it hits the ground, Devin is charging me and I am knocked to my back, the breath forced from my chest. He comes down on top of me. “Maybe I should fuck you one last time right here. Maybe. After you talk. Who did you share that file you gave my attorney with?”
“Just me. Just—”
He slaps my face and it hurts. God, it hurts. “Who?” he demands. “Next time it will be my fist.”
“No one. I told no one.”
He rears back to punch me and suddenly he is gone. I scramble to my knees to find Asher holding him, a gun pointed between his eyes. “Asher!”
“Yeah, sweetheart. Sorry about being a little late. But I’m here now.”
“Remember me?” he asks Devin. “Remember my promise?”
“You’re a SEAL. You couldn’t kill me then and you won’t now.”
“Ex-SEAL. I got tired of saving lowlifes like you.” Asher grabs his shirt and shoves him backward until he’s by the ledge. “Get up on it.”
“No.”
Asher smashes him in the nose and he howls in pain while Asher sets him on the ledge. “Stand or die,” he says before releasing him.
Devin wobbles but stands, and he’s still holding his gun at his side. “Asher! He has a gun.”
“Yes, he does,” Asher says, lowering his. “Now we’re even. Let’s do it Old West style. Let’s count down. One. Two. Three.” Devin raises his gun and fires, but it’s too late. Asher’s bullet is in his head and he stumbles, falling face first onto the pavement.
I scream and Asher is in front of me, pulling me to him, and I punch at his chest. “You asshole arrogant man with a hero complex. You dropped your weapon. You showboated.”
“I made sure that it wasn’t murder.” He cups my face. “I made sure he can never hurt you again. I made sure your mine. Marry me.”
“Are you serious? You’re asking me now?”
“Yeah. Death and near death has a way of making you never want to lose another moment. Marry me.”
“Yes. Yes, I will. When can we go home?”
“Not soon enough, but when we do it’s over. It’s really over. All of it. And then there is just you and me, sweetheart. Forever.”