Ruthless Heir (Ruthless Billionaires #5)

Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Asher

“I love sailing.” Alexis giggles. “I can actually sail a boat myself.”

“That’s impressive. I’ve never met a woman who could sail.” I stare back at her sitting across the table and I realize why Layla picked her for me.

She is my type and she’s beautiful, full of zest for life and energy.

From the moment we met we’ve talked nonstop. Our date started at an art gallery, then we came to this Italian bistro on the riverside.

Of all the women I’ve met she best fits the bill and I think that just maybe she might be the one.

I’m trying here . Really trying . If I pick her the problem is solved. At least to some degree. I’d just need to wrap my head around the idea of being married to her.

“My father taught me to sail,” Alexis says with excitement, her voice pulling me back to our date. “Our family is Greek so nearly everyone can sail. We meet in the summer in Mykonos and sail to every island in the Cyclades.”

“That is fantastic. My brother and I do something similar but he’s more into sailing than I am. I swear he’d live in the water if he could.”

“I guess I’m like that, too. I spend most of my time near water. Maybe I can entice you to leave the office more often.” The look of seduction she gives me is unmistakable.

At least I know she likes me. I never had a problem with that, though, with any of the women. It was everything else.

“I’m sure you could.” I genuinely mean that.

“I see why Layla thought we’d be a good match.” She dips her head. “I know the circumstances of your arrangement but it was important for me to like you, too.”

“And do you?”

“I do. No pun intended.” Her smile widens and her eyes sparkle. “And me? Do you like me?”

“I do,” I reply but… it doesn’t feel right to give her hope.

“That’s good to hear.”

“I think so.” I nod.

“How about one last drink for the road? And to celebrate liking each other.”

“Sure. Sounds like a great idea.”

We order two more cocktails. I’m driving her home so I’ve kept an eye on my drinks.

There was a night when I was so drunk I had to call a taxi. I drank too much that night because I had another boring date. But that was my fault. I hadn’t tried to have fun.

Tonight was what I’d call a success.

An hour later I drop Alexis home and make my way back to mine.

On the drive back I reflect on everything.

If tonight was a success it means I found a girl. On Tuesday morning I can go back to my father with a name.

I won’t have to worry about marrying Portia as I have a feeling that Alexis and I could work.

So why am I not more enthusiastic?

Maybe I just need the idea to sink in and be grateful I have a choice now.

Or rather a name.

Picking Alexis would also wipe out the plan to get Harper involved with something I know could be a disaster. It’s too risky.

And, if Josh found out and there was nothing I can do to absolve myself, I don’t know what would happen to us.

All those reasons make sense, yet when I think of introducing Alexis to Harper as my fiancée a knot tightens within me.

A knot that tells me that maybe I’m still not ready to make that choice yet.

When I reach home I discover Harper isn’t back. She’d sent a message letting me know she’d be home late.

It’s only ten so it’s not exactly late but I wonder where she is.

Is she with Jack?

Maybe at his place. In his bed?

Shit. There I go again. I need to stop that. I really do. If she’s with him she’s with him and I need to be okay with it.

I need to see it as none of my business and respect her privacy.

Of course, I can be there to beat the shit out of him if he hurts her but that’s it. I can act the way a big brother would.

Serves me right. Didn’t I tell her that I see her as a sister?

Absolute bullshit. It’s come back to bite me in the ass now.

I grab one of those Belgian cakes Olga gets from the market. Harper likes them, too. As there’s only one left I put it on a plate and take it to her room.

The door is ajar so I walk in and leave the cake next to her violin case. I move the stack of paperwork aside so nothing falls on the cake.

As I do something catches my eye in the drawer. It’s only slightly open but I can see a document inside with the Dark Odyssey logo on the header.

What in the hell is she doing with this?

The Dark Odyssey is a sex club.

That respect privacy line fades to nothing and I open the drawer and take out the… contract.

It’s a fucking contract. As in a work contract.

Harper has agreed to work there as a topless waitress for a minimum fee of five hundred dollars a night with tips.

And she starts tonight. At nine.

Fuck. No.

I kick the bin, sending it flying into the wall, then I’m walking, then I’m running to my car.

Jesus. When I first thought the woman was a trouble magnet I hadn’t seen anything yet.

This takes the fucking cake.

Topless waitress at the fucking Dark Odyssey.

Why?

Why would she need to do this?

One guess is that it’s Beth who got her that job. But why?

I just gave her a job.

Maybe I got this wrong and she would only have taken the job if she didn’t get the one from me.

Maybe she is with Jack and I’m losing my shit again.

You know what? I hope it’s the latter.

But I don’t think she’s with him. I think she’s at the club.

I tear out of my property and down the road, going way faster than the speed limit.

The question of why keeps hitting me like the rough waves of the sea in a tempest.

Something whispers to me that there’s more at work here. The same fucked-up thing I sensed when I picked her up in Massachusetts.

This is about that, or the same thing as that. Because it doesn’t make sense.

Why would Harper leave UCLA before the end of the semester with just enough credits to transfer to NYU when she’d already suffered a disruption in her studies?

Why would she go to Massachusetts instead of heading straight to New York?

Josh was here for weeks. Possibly the longest he’s been around for a while. Granted, he spent most of the time with Lisa but I know what he’s like when it comes to Harper. He would have taken care of her if she needed a place. Chances are he would have kept his place for a little longer until she got campus housing.

Harper came and asked me for a job. And now there’s this.

Why?

Money.

She needs money. Girls like her only work at the Dark Odyssey if they need money. A fuck of a lot of it.

What does Harper need the money for?

I’m like a madman ready to breathe fire when I burst through the club doors.

I walk past reception and straight to the manager's office. I’ve been here for a few private parties that some of my crazier friends have hosted, so I know my way around.

Security tries to stop me but they take one look at me, recognize me as Asher Le Blanche and back the hell off.

I don’t knock when I reach the manager’s office; I just push the door open. I find a little woman inside with flaming red hair.

At first she looks at me like she’s about to argue but then she recognizes me, too.

“Harper St. John. Where is she?” The words come out like a growl.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Le Blanche, I’m not at liberty?—”

I hold up the contract and show it to her. “So help me God if you don’t tell me where she is right the fuck now, I'll shut you down and destroy this place.”

I might have a hard time shutting the place down because it’s mafia owned, but that doesn’t stop me from burning it right the fuck to the ground and starting a war with the mafia.

“Where is she?”

“She’s hosting one of the parties,” she explains with a slight hint of a French accent.

“Take me there.”

She gives me a hard glare then reluctantly gets up from behind her desk.

I follow her out the door and she leads me up the wide steps where you can see all the people on the dance floor and on the sidelines fucking.

The place is crazier than when I was last here and that was only two years ago.

“In there.” She points to a blue door.

I walk ahead of her now and open the door.

Inside are four guys and four girls. Including Harper. And the girls are topless.

She is topless.

I focus on Harper, at her full, round tits and perky dusky pink nipples.

She’s staring back at me now with shock stealing the color from her face.

She was pouring a drink for the guy sitting in front of her. But now she’s rooted to the spot, her eyes glued to me.

Even in my rage-fueled state I notice that beautiful body of hers. It’s not like the eighteen-year-old version I saw years ago. Harper St. John looks like a goddess now.

And she’s here at the Dark Odyssey showing it off to the cretin gawking at her.

He hasn’t seen me yet. Neither have the other guys. They look wasted and too zonked out from gawking at the women to notice me.

When the cretin smacks Harper’s ass my brain snaps back into focus. Hers does, too and she seems to realize in that moment that I’m here and looking at her—topless.

She covers her breasts and the guy snarls at her.

“Hey, come here and suck my dick.” He grabs her arm and pulls her toward him.

“Let go of me. I already told you no.” Harper tries to wrench her arm away from him but he’s too strong for her. “Let me go.”

I’m over there before he can take his next breath but now he’s got her wrapped in his arms and struggling against him.

In one move I grab her from him and throw a punch straight into his face, so hard the chair tips over with him in it.

He jumps up enraged and glares at me. “Who the fuck are you?”

The fool comes at me. Big. Mistake.

One more punch goes to the center of his face, cracking his nose and sending the motherfucker back to the floor.

This time I grab him by his neck and lift him off the ground.

“She told you no,” I snarl in his face, feeling nothing for punching him. The club rules are that you can’t force the girls to do anything they don’t want to do.

I’m glad I came when I did because this fool didn’t seem to get the memo.

I tighten my grip around his throat and he starts spluttering.

“Asher, stop.” Harper grabs my arm, tugging me.

I glance at her. She’s half trying to save this guy from being strangled and half trying to cover herself up.

“Asher.” Her voice comes out strangled.

I release him and he drops back to the floor in a mess of coughing fits and splutters.

At that moment the door bursts open and the guards rush in. They can see it’s me who’s caused the problem but they know better than to put their hands on me.

“That piece of shit there doesn’t know what the word no means.” I point at the guy on the floor who scrambles away from me in fear that I’ll come after him again.

I don’t wait for an answer from the guards. I don’t expect one. And I don’t care for one.

I’m not here for them.

I take off my jacket and throw it around Harper’s shoulders, covering her nakedness, then I take her hand and lead her out of the room with everyone’s eyes on us.

I don’t stop walking until we reach the corner by the stairs where there are fewer people.

I turn around to face Harper and release her hand. Her eyes are filled with tears but I don’t let the sight throw me off.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I slam a fist into the wall beside her. Really I want to grab her and shake her.

“I…”

“You what? How the fuck could this be a good idea? What do you need the money for?” I come right out and say it. No point waiting for her to tell me.

“I’m in trouble.” Her breath catches and the tears stream down her cheeks.

That… that gets me. Along with those words.

“What kind of trouble?”

“I owe a very dangerous man a hundred thousand dollars.”

All I can do is glare back at her as the truth comes out and charges the air with menacing danger.

I shake my head at her. “Why didn’t you come to me?”

“So you could behave like this? And call me out on my stupid decisions when I already know I fucked up?”

I clench my jaw and continue glaring back at her. She’s right. I would have behaved just like this if I’d known before. But that’s no excuse.

“Go get your clothes on. Let’s go home.” It’s best I don’t say anything more.

The drive back home is worse than the journey we took from Massachusetts.

It’s worse in so many ways because now I know the truth.

I wait until we step inside and Harper is about to escape to her room before I stop her, just as she’s about to take off down the corridor.

“Did Nick get the loan?”

She faces me, her eyes red from crying. “Yes.”

“In your name?”

“Yes. We were going to get a place together but I didn’t realize he was about to lose his job.”

That motherfucker played her good. “What’s this dangerous guy’s name?”

“Vito Morales.”

“Does he know where you are?”

“No. He thinks I’m still in L.A.”

“Give me his number.”

“Asher—”

“Don’t. Just give me the number, Harper.”

With trembling hands she pulls her phone out of her bag and finds the number. She shows it to me. Since numbers are my thing I memorize it with one look and nod.

“Asher—”

“Not now, Harper. If you don’t want to argue, don’t talk to me now.”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice is so soft it feels like a caress on my skin.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay… Thanks for saving me,” she mumbles then with her head bowed she continues down the hallway.

When she turns the corner I head to the living room. There I sit for a while before I decide to make the call to this Vito Morales.

I’m sure men like him accept calls at any time of the day.

I’m right. He answers on the third ring.

“Vito Morales here. This better be good.” He has a gravel voice that sounds like he chain-smokes a hundred packs of cigarettes a day.

“I’m calling to settle a debt for Harper St. John.”

“Who am I speaking to?” His voice fills with interest, becoming almost friendlier.

“A friend of hers.” I never give my name for anything. The past has taught me to be cautious and careful.

“Must be a very good friend.”

“Just message this number the payment details and I’ll send the money over.”

This phone is untraceable and the number unlisted so he can’t use it to track me down to see where I am. It’s perfect for dealing with people like him.

“Sure thing. Pleasure doing business with you, Harper’s friend .”

“I need to know you won’t bother her again after this.”

“There will be no need to. You have my word.”

“Then I look forward to hearing from you.”

I hang up first and wait for the details to come through.

While I wait my mind buzzes with an idea.

Harper owes me now. And something wicked whispers to me telling me

exactly how she can pay me back.

Time to choose again. This time I’m choosing something that benefits me— Layla’s idea .

If Harper agrees I’ll do it. She can be my fake girlfriend and take the pressure off my wife situation.

It’s fake so it can work.

This arrangement will also free up my mind and give me some time to focus on finding out what Nigel and Nolan are up to. I couldn’t do that before because I knew I had to focus on finding a wife.

The more I think about this wild idea for Harper to be my fake girlfriend the better it sounds. Like a miracle answer that just fell right into my lap.

Josh doesn’t need to find out. And if he or Lisa sees anything about us in the papers I can tell them exactly what Layla said. The press is the press. Having the Le Blanche surname almost guarantees you a spot in the tabloids, and the press will run with whatever story suits them.

By the time Josh gets home I’ll be married. Problem solved.

As long as Harper and I don’t have any damning pictures—which we won’t—it could work. It will work.

The only person who needs to believe we’re real is my father.

We can put on a show just for him. And I suppose the other members of my family who need to believe we’re real. People like my mother and Hunter and Luc’s wives. No one else matters.

All we need are a few fake kisses here and there and some hand holding. We’ll be no different to actors playing a part in a movie.

As for me and my obvious real attraction to Harper…

She’s still off limits to me. Outside of the few fake kisses here and there and the hand holding I can still maintain that line between us because now she owes me.

This can be our business arrangement.

As long as I remember that it can only be a temporary solution.

And I must never allow my real feelings to push me too far over the line.

Because then I’ll be in trouble.