Chapter 24 Asha
ASHA
When we stepped out of the elevator and into Rook’s penthouse at the Lynch Continental, he held out his hand.
“Give me your phone.”
My only link to my friends, family, and life outside this building? Hell no.
I frowned. “Why?”
“I need to fix it so no one can track you.”
I supposed that was a fair request. “That’s all?”
“You have my word.”
“Fine.” Hesitantly, I pulled it from my purse and slapped it into his palm.
Without warning, Rook went to the kitchen, turned on the garbage disposal, and tossed in my phone.
“What are you doing?” I shrieked, chasing after him.
“I told you. Making sure no one can track you.”
He could force me to marry him and have me put in jail, but destroying my phone was going too far.
I didn’t trust the cloud, so I kept almost everything on that device.
Treasured photos, podcast notes, log-in details I couldn’t possibly remember.
My life, pulverized in a crunch of glass and plastic.
“I swear to God, I’m going to—”
“Calm down, Wildfire.” He pulled a phone from a kitchen drawer. “Use this one from now on.”
It was similar but a more expensive model than the one he’d just shredded.
I snatched it and turned it on. My regular passcode worked. The wallpaper matched mine, and most of my apps were there, too. As I thumbed through folders and messages, it looked like all the important stuff was safe.
Damn, his tech guy was good, which was more than a little unsettling.
Rook pointed to the screen. “It’s encrypted and untraceable. Almost everything from your old phone is on there. Since we’re married, I took the liberty of removing a few things.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Like what?”
“Your dating apps, phone numbers of your ex-boyfriends, and photos of any men who aren’t members of your immediate family.”
I snorted. “Unbelievable.”
“I’ve also added my credit card to the phone wallet. I want you to use that for any expenses.”
“I told you I don’t want your money.”
“That’s not the point. Rook O’Connell’s wife doesn’t pay for anything.”
I slipped the phone into my purse. “Were you raised with such archaic, sexist beliefs, or is this a gangster thing?”
“It’s a respect thing.”
“You mean if someone catches your wife paying her own way, it makes you look bad?”
“Not respect for me. For you. My ma raised me right, and she’d turn in her grave if she found out I wasn’t looking after you.
Come on. There’s something I want to show you.
” Rook curled his finger, and I trailed after him down the hallway.
The scent of fresh paint grew stronger the farther we traveled.
“This will be your workspace.” He pushed open a door.
When I saw what lay inside, I almost fell over.
Instead of sharp and modern, this room was soft and elegant.
Dusky olive and peach accents warmed the space.
Candles in delicate holders, framed art prints of city skylines, a chunky throw draped over a pale-green armchair.
My books lined the shelves. My houseplants looked even healthier than I remembered, basking in the perfect light from the windows.
My computer sat atop a large white oak desk; my pens and notepads sat neatly beside the keyboard. It felt stylish and homey and instantly put me at ease.
There was a closed door on a side wall. A closet or bathroom perhaps?
“What’s in there?” I asked.
Rook shoved his hands into his pockets. “Go see.”
I twisted the handle, and—
Oh my God. A recording studio.
And not a ramshackle closet lined with egg cartons, like mine. This was a real studio. One with quality soundproofing and its own desk and laptop. There were also headphones, boom arms, an audio interface, a mixer, and an ergonomic chair. All of it the best that money could buy.
This was more than equipment. It was freedom. It was my voice. It was Rook keeping his word, and that made me hate him just a little bit less.
I gasped. “Is that the Neumann TLM 103?”
Rook leaned against the doorframe while I took it all in. “Is that okay?”
“Are you kidding me? It’s the microphone of my dreams.” I walked through the room, touching everything to make sure it was real. The equipment in here alone cost upward of thirty thousand dollars, and that didn’t include the construction cost. “When did you have this done?”
“While you were locked up.”
“In a day and a half? How?”
“Money talks.” He smirked. “Come on. You can play with your new toys while I’m at work.”
I followed him out of my office to the wide hallway.
“Is there anything else you need? Name it and it’s yours.”
I’d never seen money flung around like this. Not in real life.
I snorted. “Just a Maserati in case I need to run a few errands.”
Rook glanced over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. “Would you like a Maserati?”
I stopped in the middle of the hallway. “Wait. Is that a serious question?”
He slowed down to answer. “I’m asking it, so yes.”
“Of course I don’t want you to buy me a Maserati. That’s crazy.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. And I already told you I don’t want gifts purchased with the proceeds of crime.”
“What if the money isn’t from crime? Maybe I’m just really good at investments.”
“Are you?”
“No. My brother was, though, and he left everything to me in his will. I’d trade it all in a heartbeat to have him back.”
A flicker of pain crossed his face, catching me off guard. I didn’t want to feel bad for Rook, but in that moment, I did. Just a little. Then I cursed myself for it.
“You don’t need a car. Finn will drive you from now on. Safer that way.”
“Who’s Finn?”
“Your bodyguard. You’ll meet him soon. But now, time for the tour.”
We walked through the rest of the apartment, and I lost count of how many bedrooms and bathrooms he pointed out.
There was a gym, a wine cellar, a home cinema, multiple living spaces, and an impressive terrace stretching along the entirety of the southern side of the building.
A library with a rolling ladder, a spa room with a sauna, even a panic room behind a concealed door.
We paused at a closed doorway, and Rook’s expression turned serious. “Stay out of here.”
I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess. It’s full of weapons? Drugs? A menagerie of mementos from all the people you’ve murdered?”
His shoulders tensed. “It was Niall’s room. I haven’t been in there since he died, and I don’t want anyone else poking through his things.”
Something about the clipped way he said it warned me not to push.
I nodded, not knowing what to say.
It was only as we walked back toward the living room that I realized there was one place Rook hadn’t shown me. “Which bedroom is mine?”
“I thought that would be obvious.” He stopped at the open door to his bedroom and gestured inside.
I froze, my feet unable to take another step. A terrible sinking sensation churned my gut. “No.”
“Yes.”
“Rook, this isn’t up for negotiation.”
“My thoughts exactly. You’re sleeping in here, and I’ll hear no argument about it. Your belongings are already unpacked.”
Reluctantly, I followed Rook into the large closet, where my clothes were neatly arranged on one side.
I glanced between my things and Rook’s. Target versus Armani. “Why can’t I have my own room?”
“Truth?”
“Of course.”
He scraped one hand over the dark stubble on his cheek, as though hesitant to explain.
“It’s unlikely that an intruder could reach my apartment, but if they do, it means they’re Jason Bourne–level dangerous and not here to fuck around.
I can’t protect you if you’re three rooms away, and I won’t be able to sleep knowing that. ”
Rook’s admission and the worry lines in his brow caused my chest to tighten. Color me shocked. His concern for my safety actually seemed…sincere.
Impossible. This man was a corrupt, power-hungry killer only interested in his own needs. A liar through and through.
For a second there, I almost forgot he was a heartless beast.
My hand landed on my cocked hip. “Right. Because if I die, you’ll have to manipulate someone else into working for you. How inconvenient. News flash, asshole. The safest place for me is far away from you.”
“Aye. There’s merit to that, but let me explain something.
Now that you’re in my world, the best way to stay alive is to have the biggest, baddest monster in your corner.
And guess what, love?” He leaned in and clasped my jaw, those blue eyes locked on mine.
“You just married him.” Rook’s gaze shifted to my lips, and he moistened his own.
“So you’ll stay in my room and sleep in my bed, because that’s where I want you.
You’ve already seen what happens when I don’t get my way. ”
I slapped his hand away. “You can’t have me arrested every time I disobey an order.”
“I can be far crueler than that.” He gestured toward the en suite. “Now, wash up. You smell worse than a rugby team’s laundry hamper.”
I gasped, then sniffed myself. Ew. I really was rank.
Maybe I could work with that.
“Does my jail-cell odor offend you? Think I’ll skip the shower.”
“Either you wash yourself, or I’ll do it for you.” He released me to undo the top button of his black shirt, a wicked glint in his eyes.
I recoiled. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Care to find out?” He smiled like the devil himself. “Do you recall what happened last time we showered together?”
Oh, I remembered, all right. The steam-filled room.
Rook supporting my weight against the wall while he slammed into me, one inked hand at my throat.
The orgasm had hit me hard and fast and would go down as one of the top five sexual experiences of my life.
The other four had taken place the same night.
Damn him. Damn him to hell.
Heat flared up my neck and cheeks.
“Aye. I think you remember everything.” Rook advanced on me, revealing more of his tattooed pecs as he continued unbuttoning his shirt.
“Stop.” I held my palms up. “I’ll shower. On my own.”
Rook clicked his tongue. “As you wish. And Asha?”
I stared him down, waiting for another smart-mouthed comment or command.
“You don’t have to like working for me and following my rules, but my brother didn’t deserve what happened to him. Find the Soul Collector so I can deliver justice. Do that, and you’ll give me something billions can’t buy. You’ll give me peace.”
Something in his voice made my stomach twist. I hated that part of me wanted to help him, to ease his pain.
But sympathy for a monster was dangerous, so I shoved it down.