Chapter 22
Chapter
Twenty-Two
ANABELLE
After the doctor came to see me, Asher ordered me to stay in bed. When I told him I could return to my own room, he refused, though I had no real idea why because he never returned. I slept most of the day anyway.
Someone left me trays of food while I slept, and though I was pretty sure it wasn’t Asher, I hoped it was. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to know that I was in Asher Voss’s bed.
I wake up Monday morning and find myself still alone. Alone and wanting answers. When I climb out of bed, I do it slowly, testing that I won’t be lightheaded. But when my feet hit the floor, and I push up off the mattress, I feel like my usual self.
I’m not sure if Asher disappeared because he wanted to avoid having me pry about the basement or if it’s because he just couldn’t be bothered with me, but it doesn’t matter either way. I need to know what I walked into on Saturday night. I want answers, and I’m not going to back down this time.
But I can’t see him like this—bedraggled and two days unwashed in my pajamas. So I head back to my room, proud of myself when I find my way there without getting lost and grateful that I don’t run into any of the other staff.
I take a shower, dry and style my hair, and apply a bit of makeup before sliding on one of the dresses that was left in my closet after Asher deemed my wardrobe unsuitable for work.
I choose a soot-colored dress that hits just above the knee and molds to all my curves.
There’s a V-neck in the front, but it doesn’t dip low enough to really show anything, just hints at the cleavage underneath.
Then I slide on a pair of black patent leather Louboutins.
My makeup is subtle, but at the last minute, I decide to add lipstick that matches the bottom of my shoes.
As I look at myself in the mirror, I feel ready to go up against the infamous Asher Voss until I get what I want.
I won’t be the innocent, cowering little girl he seems to expect.
I’m going to be the woman who has been cocooned inside me, transforming over these past couple of months, waiting for her chance to break free.
There’s a knock on the door, and I suck in a deep breath through my nose, preparing to confront Asher. “Come in.”
The door swings open and Marcel pokes his head through. “Morning, how are you feeling?”
Disappointment squirms through my chest. He asked how I’m feeling, which means he knows that something went down at the very least.
“I’m fine, thank you.” I push away the discomfort as he gives me a once-over.
“I brought your breakfast to Mr. Voss’s room, and you were gone. Thought I might find you here.”
I am hungry, but more than that, I want to get this showdown with Asher over with. “Where is he?”
Marcel walks farther into the room and sets the tray on the dresser. “Mr. Voss insisted that you eat some breakfast.”
I have to rein in my irritation somewhat and remember that Marcel isn’t at fault here. He’s just doing his job, and Mr. Voss is his boss.
“Thank you, I appreciate you bringing me breakfast, and I will have some. After I speak to Asher.”
Marcel’s eyebrows shoot up near his hairline.
Probably at my use of Asher’s first name.
Oops. “I can see that you’re a woman on a mission right now, and may I say that you look dressed for the part.
But if I may also say, you had quite the ordeal this weekend.
I think you’d be wise to have a little something to eat before you go discuss whatever it is you want to discuss with Mr. Voss. ”
I sigh, my shoulders sagging. “Does everyone know?”
He steps toward me and takes my hands. “Just Mrs. Potter and me. Mr. Voss assumed you wouldn’t want the rest of the staff to know anything was amiss, so he had Mrs. Potter prepare your food yesterday, and I brought it to you and checked on you.”
I can begrudgingly admit that that was actually pretty thoughtful of Asher.
“Good. I—” I don’t know what to say after that. There’s a level of embarrassment and shame for sure, even if I didn’t ask to be drugged and almost sexually assaulted.
Marcel squeezes my hands. “You don’t need to say anything. We’re just glad you’re okay.”
I nod. “So, where is Asher then? He and I need to speak.”
Marcel sighs and drops my hands, stepping back. “What about breakfast?”
“I promise I’ll eat after I’ve finished my conversation. There are things I need answers to.” I give him a pointed look, and he nods.
I’m not sure how much Marcel knows about what goes on one Saturday a month here, but regardless, I don’t want my answers from Marcel. I want them from Asher.
“He’s in his office.”
I nod and step around him, ready to go head-to-head with the most powerful man I’ve ever known until I get the answers I want.
I don’t knock when I reach his office door, just swing the large door open and step inside.
I come to a stop when I see that he’s not alone.
All three of his brothers are here. The four of them are seated around the lounge area on the couches and chairs, and the tension is as thick as the humidity around here in July. The room seems dimmer than normal, as though the shadows are hovering like mist in the corners.
“Leave us,” Asher says, locking eyes on me. The brother with the wolf tattoo on his neck narrows his eyes at me as though he wants to say something, but Asher speaks again, though it’s more of a growl this time. “Leave.”
The three of them get up without saying a word and walk around me toward the door. They’re an intimidating group, but I keep my chin raised until the door closes behind me.
Then I stride toward Asher. “We need to talk.”
He stands from the chair he’s in, slides his hand down his tie, then turns and walks toward his desk. “I see you must be feeling better.”
“I told you I was fine yesterday.” I follow him, trying my best not to feel like a puppy following its master.
“Yes, that must be why you slept for sixteen hours straight.” He rounds the corner of his desk and takes a seat.
I come to a stop in front of his desk, hands in fists at my sides. “I’m not leaving here until I get answers.”
“And what answers exactly are you looking for, Miss Boudreaux?”
God, I’m so sick of his shit. He knows exactly why I’m here.
“What goes on in the basement?” I cross my arms and stare down at him.
“Are you sure you want to know the answer to that question?” He arches an eyebrow, his dark eyes studying me. “The answer may be dangerous. Even my brothers can’t decide what to do with you.”
A creeping sensation travels up my spine, like spider legs crawling over my skin, but I keep my composure. “What does that mean?”
Asher leans back in his seat. His body language is relaxed and subdued, but his eyes…
his eyes are like a laser target on me. “Well, one of them questions whether you can be trusted to keep your mouth shut, one wants to make an example of you, and the other wants to kill you to ensure your silence. You knowing more than you already do might fare worse for you.”
I swallow, questioning whether this is wise or not, but I don’t care. So much has already gone unsaid between us, and I refuse to let this be another thing that gets pushed into the shadows. “Are you threatening me?”
“I’m merely educating you on what your curiosity could cost you.”
I plant my hands on his desk and lean over it, the same way he did in his bedroom yesterday morning. “I want to know what I saw. Is it a cult?”
I hold my breath while he continues to hold my gaze, unflinching.
With a sigh, he says, “So be it.” He gestures to the chair behind me, and I sit, if only because I think he might actually be about to tell me the truth. “It’s not a cult, though it’s amusing that you think so. It’s called The Ritual Room, a sex club.”
The air whooshes out of me. So more lies then.
I lean forward in my seat. “I know what I saw. People in robes with masks on, a man with a knife on a dais, cutting into a woman.” When his nostrils flare, I add, “That’s right, my memory is slowly coming back to me. There wasn’t any sex going on.”
“You asked for the truth, and I gave it to you,” he bites out. “What you walked in on was the blood ritual. It’s performed once a year. Think of it as a tradition of sorts.”
I lean back in my seat. He seems as though he’s telling the truth. It’s not as if telling me it’s a sex club wouldn’t have consequences of its own if I ever told anyone—which I never would.
“So you and a bunch of your friends get together once a month to sleep with each other?” I try not to think too hard about who and what Asher may have done there over the years.
“There’s more to it than that.”
I scoff. “Like what? Isn’t everyone there wealthier than God? Can you not all get laid the regular way?”
A deep chuckle reverberates through his chest. “Power. Influence. Secrets. Leverage—at least for my brothers and me.”
His amusement irritates me as though I’m some child. “So when you said I shouldn’t have been there…”
“I meant you are not permitted to be there. You’re not a member. You haven’t been vetted—though I assured my brothers I had already done that part before you came to work for me.”
“And that’s why they’re so concerned about me knowing anything.”
He nods.
“This has been going on a long time.” For as long as I can remember, the cars have been rolling through town on the last Saturday of the month.
“My father founded it, and when he died, I took it over.”
I frown. “But you were only eighteen when your father died.” His gaze doesn’t move from mine. He doesn’t even blink. My hand goes to my stomach when it lurches. “Oh god.”
Eighteen years he’s been partaking in the Vosses’ little secret. It isn’t judgment that makes me feel sick—it’s the idea that he’s been sleeping with different women on a regular basis for eighteen years. I don’t know how I know that he doesn’t have a steady partner, but somehow, I know.
Jealousy claws at my insides, jealousy that I have no right to feel. Asher Voss isn’t mine—he’s made that perfectly clear. Still, I can’t help being drawn to him, wanting to experience more with him.
“How does someone become a member?” I ask.
“That’s the end of this conversation. You got what you came for. You now know what goes on in the basement. It goes without saying that if you tell anyone, there will be drastic consequences.”
“How does someone become a member?”
He stands from his desk. “Don’t push me, Miss Boudreaux. This conversation is finished.”
He steps around his desk and continues through the office. I think maybe it’s to go open his office door and insist I leave, or maybe he plans to leave himself.
I stand from the chair to face his back. “I want to become a member.”
He stops, and his back rises and falls with a deep breath. Asher whips around to face me, eyes full of fury. “That will not be happening.”
“Why?”
He turns fully around and stalks over to me. “First, because you don’t belong there.”
“Because I’m not rich?”
“Because you don’t know what you’re asking, and if you did, I doubt you’d feel the same. Do you want to fuck a bunch of strangers, Anabelle?”
My eyes flare when he says my first name. It so rarely happens, and I love the sound of my name coming from his lips. “No, I want to fuck you.”
There. It’s out there. No taking it back.
I want to sate the desire tormenting me for this man whenever I’m near him, and lately even when I’m not. I want to know what it feels like to be owned by him. To drive him so crazy with my body that he loses control of himself.
“Don’t say that.” He leans in closer.
I put on an unaffected air and shrug. “Why? It’s the truth. You can’t tell me you’re not attracted to me.”
“You don’t have to be a member of the club to fuck me, Anabelle.” He trails a finger down my jawline to the edge of the V-neck on my dress to the center point above my cleavage. “Just say the word.”
I smack his hand away. “Stop playing games. We both know that every time something has happened between us, you react by pushing me away. Besides, I’m curious.
I want some adventure. Why do you think I left Magnolia Bend in the first place?
I’m stuck here for another ten months, so I might as well make the most of it. ” I smile at him in challenge.
“You’ll have to find adventure some other way.”
“Fine. Maybe I’ll see if one of your brothers will nominate me.” I move to pass him, but he grips my upper arm to stop me.
“You’ll do no such thing.”
I wrench my arm from his grasp and face him. “I want in, Asher, and if you won’t make it happen, I’ll find someone else who will.”
His gaze roams my face for a moment before he lets his hand drop. “Jesus Christ, you’re serious. You’re not going to let this go, will you?”
“No, I won’t.”
His jaw hardens, and he motions to the nearby couch. “Have a seat. You need to know what you’re getting into.”