Chapter Thirty-Seven
Asher
Two hours and several glasses of sparkling water later—even if the liquor’s good, I can’t afford to get drunk—I’ve gotten the interest of three more potential sponsors, and made nice with every team investor I’ve spotted.
Every interaction has started out strained, but each time I want to punch someone for being an idiot, I instead ask myself what Victoria would do.
It's working like a charm.
Elio is silently fuming in the corner of the room; I’m smiling with genuine enjoyment and trying not to glance at Victoria more than once per minute. Mostly because, each time I turn to ogle her, I’m met with her brother’s cool stare.
When I feel the edges of my smile start to crack beneath the weight of being so fucking personable all evening, I make my way over to the bar for a refill and a break. Several people stand around it, mingling and talking among each other.
I’ve just flagged down the bartender when a shadow falls over the empty seat beside me. My shoulders tense when the other patrons around the bar all start to step away, casting glances in my direction.
What the fuck?
Hunter Aster drops into the seat. A quick glance around reveals that his security team—three burly men I hadn’t even noticed before—are creating an unofficial perimeter around us.
I’ve attended enough of these events to understand that this behavior, this sort of influence is unusual—even in the company of some of the wealthiest people in the world.
I turn to Hunter, tilting my head to the side. He must have connections as deep as his pockets to cause this sort of stir.
“Asher.” Hunter runs a sharp, predatory gaze over me.
A faint smile touches his lips, as if he’s sharing a private joke with himself.
My eyes move to the pavilion, looking for Victoria; she’s deep in an animated conversation with Sterling.
She even has her tablet out, which probably means she’ll be lost to the world for at least an hour.
“Hunter,” I reply. “Wonderful to meet you.”
“Mm.” One of Hunter’s security men steps forward and hands him a manilla envelope.
What the hell is he playing at?
Hunter places it flat on the table in front of him, and makes a show of flipping it open.
My blood chills to ice when I see a picture of myself, leaving the gym where I train with Gio.
Judging from the shirt I’m wearing, this is from the first session I had with Gio this season—the one not long before the press conference.
“My stalkers aren’t usually so high-profile,” I clip.
“I see you’ve turned a corner recently,” Hunter says, flipping to another photo—this one of me in front of HQ.
“Asher Lawrence has gone from the never-was, pathetic playboy of F1 to someone who’s just beginning to realize some of his potential.
” He meets my eyes. “And I don’t think I need to ask why.
” The next photo he reveals sends fear skittering up my spine like a thousand invisible spiders.
It's of me in front of Victoria’s apartment. Then of us coming out of the apartment. It’s the day I took her to the pizzeria.
Hunter holds my eyes as he slides another picture across the table, placing it neatly in front of me.
A quick glance down reveals that he apparently has eyes all over the goddamn world, because this one is of me and Victoria in the hotel lobby.
I’m drinking her smoothie, and she’s arching an eyebrow at me, a slight smile playing on her lips.
“No, I certainly don’t question why you’ve seen such immense improvement.”
“What’s the point of this display?” I question. My tone might be careless, but the rest of me is tense enough to pass as one of the marble statues lined up against the walls.
Hunter goes on as if I hadn’t spoken. “In all of these pictures, Victoria looks happy.” He leans forward. “My sister’s happiness is very important to me, Asher. I like it when she’s happy. You share my opinion, of course.”
It’s not a question, so I don’t give an answer.
This is a classic case of an older brother giving the man in his sister’s life the what are your intentions with my sister talk.
In this case, the aforementioned brother just happens to be something approximating a sociopath, with billions in his bank account and a penchant for doing deep background research on people.
He pulls out a white piece of paper with a collection of numbers. “Here, I have Victoria’s phone records.”
“I wonder how your sister would feel when she walks over here and sees you’ve been stalking both of us,” I point out calmly.
Hunter merely smiles, and the sight is deeply unnerving. It’s like the smile of a wolf—or a shark, just before it goes in for the kill.
“She’s quite well occupied,” he replies calmly.
“Sterling and she were getting along splendidly. I suggested she update him on her algorithm. Once she starts talking about it, she won’t stop.
” His smile drops. “Don’t interrupt me again.
What was I saying? Yes, Victoria’s phone bill.
This user ID belongs to her good friend Delilah.
Oftentimes, Victoria calls Delilah for a pep talk when she has a problem.
If you look at the timestamp here,” he points to a date and time beside an unintelligible line of numbers and letters, “you’ll find that they had a thirty minute conversation directly after Victoria was spending time with you.
This is indicative of her being upset.” He smiles again, a perfectly polite gesture that’s somehow more menacing than a death threat.
“I do not like it when my sister is upset.”
“Is there a point to this?” I bite out.
“In all of these pictures—after that phone call—she’s looking very happy.
” He points to the pictures of us together, several candid photos that raise the hairs on the back of my neck.
“I’m hoping that you’ll be able to grasp this quickly, which is why I’m using small, simple words.
I want Victoria happy, and I do not want her upset.
She has had far too much sadness in her life and not enough comfort.
And I’m sure you’re aware that I know everything that happens on, around, and outside of every paddock in the fucking world. Do you understand?”
This shit is unreal. “I think you’ll need to spell it out for me. Are you threatening me?”
“I don’t make threats; they’re useless and time-consuming. Instead, when I’m upset, I work my network of contacts which spans every single industry in the world. I call in favors.” He leans forward. “Everyone owes me a favor.”
“I get it,” I clip. I’ve been done with this conversation since before it started; I just want it to fucking end.
“Excellent, then we won’t have any… misunderstandings.” His tone conveys that any misunderstanding could end up with me disappearing off the face of the earth.
“Now that we’ve had a nice chat, here is my proposal.” He snaps his fingers, a sound that manages to be piercing despite the noise of many people speaking to each other, and the same security guy who handed him the folder clears up all the contents and replaces it with another.
“Since Victoria seems to smile quite a bit when you’re around, and your background check came out surprisingly clean—seems the only item on your rap sheet is the remarkable ability to piss people off, and that sealed record of your arrest when you got drunk and started a barfight in college—I’ve had my team painstakingly compile an up-to-date file on Victoria’s preferred activities—”
“Stop.” I’ve held my tongue for as long as I can for the sake of letting Hunter Aster get this shit out of his system, but enough is fucking enough.
“I will find my way around planning dates on my own and with Victoria’s input, thank you.
While I appreciate your desire to… protect her,” if this is what he calls protection, “invading her privacy is a stone too far. I understand you want to check up on me, but to send people after her? To comb through her phone bills?” I shake my head.
“I won’t put up with it. Stalk me however much you want, but do your sister the favor of backing the fuck off. ”
“Or?” Hunter’s word is an unveiled challenge wrapped in a threat.
“Or, I’ll inform her that the brother she loves very much has been infringing on her privacy in a way that will not stand. I don’t care what calls you make, Aster. I have a shiny last name too. I’ll make some calls of my own.”
Hunter’s jaw works as he considers me, but I think I detect the faintest glimmer of respect in his cutting gaze.
“If you hurt her, they will never find your body. There won’t be a body to find.
You’ll disappear, and the story the press will tell is that the pressure of F1 got to be too much for you. ”
That sort of threat I can deal with. The thought of hurting Victoria makes me nauseous—I have no intention of doing it.
“If you pull some shit like this again with her, I’ll tell her the truth.”
“Careful. Grandstanding like that will get you killed.”
“At least I’ll have done right by the woman I—”
I cut off before my mouth can run away from me. “—care about,” I finish.
I won’t dwell on what I almost said.
“Very well. We have an agreement.”
“Oh, and you might want to call off whatever watchdogs you have stalking me.”
Hunter frowns. “Why?”
“Because if they watch for too long, they’ll see me balls-deep in your sister.” I slap his shoulder, stand, and stalk away.
The situation with Hunter aside—I will need to keep a close eye on him, and on myself if I don’t want to end up disappearing—I consider the evening a resounding success.
By the end of it, I’m ready to lock myself in my apartment and not emerge for the next week or so, but I’m far more eager about getting to spend time with Victoria.
I see it as my treat after an endless four hours of sheer bullshit.