Chapter 6
Roxanne
By Saturday afternoon, I’m already irritated enough to commit actual violence.
Tristan still hasn’t replied to my messages. Not the first one reminding him about our meeting, or the second. He even ignores the very clear final text where I informed him that if he ignored me again, I would personally make his life difficult.
There's been nothing but silence.
I stare at my phone from the backseat of the cab while Manhattan traffic crawls endlessly outside the window.
Typical Tristan.
When things get inconvenient, he disappears and waits for other people to clean up the mess.
Unfortunately for him, this particular mess currently involves seven figures worth of fraudulent debt tied to my name.
I check his penthouse first. Mostly because some irrational part of me still hopes there’s a reasonable explanation for all this.
However, Tristan isn’t home. The concierge informs me politely that Mr. Sterling hasn’t stayed there in over a month. Which leaves one final possibility. The Sterling Crown Hotel.
The irony almost makes me laugh. It's the same hotel where I caught him cheating barely a month ago. The same hotel where he looked me directly in the eye afterward and somehow still managed to act like I was overreacting.
God, my taste in men is catastrophic.
By the time I walk through the grand lobby of the Sterling Crown, my patience is hanging by a thread. Crystal chandeliers spill warm gold light across polished marble floors while staff members greet me politely as I pass.
I know this hotel well. Most executive events for Sterling Group are hosted here, and Asher practically owns the presidential suite upstairs.
Now, why did I have to think of Asher?
My mind somehow always finds a way to make the most mundane things about him. It’s getting annoying at this point. Especially after the past two weeks of pretending we’re unaffected by each other.
As if I don’t still remember exactly what his mouth felt like against mine.
I shove the thought away immediately and head toward the private restaurant near the back of the hotel. Not surprisingly, I spot Tristan.
Relief flashes briefly before anger crushes it instantly.
He’s sitting near the bar, laughing with two men in expensive suits while a brunette clings to his arm. The second he notices me approaching, his expression changes.
“Roxy,” he says quickly, standing so abruptly his chair scrapes the floor. “What are you doing here?”
The brunette looks between us curiously.
I ignore her completely. “You stopped answering me.”
His smile tightens immediately. “Now isn’t a good time.”
“That’s unfortunate because I’m done waiting.”
I grab his arm before he can dismiss me again. The movement is enough to finally make him pull me toward the quieter hallway near the private elevators.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he hisses once we’re alone.
I stare at him in disbelief. “With me?”
“You don’t show up to places like this making scenes.”
“You committed fraud under my identity.”
“Lower your voice.”
His face hardens instantly as he glances around the area. This time, he doesn’t deny the accusation, and that is all I needed.
“So it was you.”
Tristan drags a hand through his hair irritably. “You’re being dramatic.”
“Dramatic?” My voice rises an octave. “I have loan sharks showing up outside my apartment threatening me because of you.”
“It’s not that serious.”
I almost laugh. Actually, I laugh because the only alternative is strangling him, and I can’t afford to go to jail and leave my brother alone.
“They said I owe millions of dollars, Tristan.”
“And?”
I blink, wondering how this completely unfazed man is someone I almost married. How did I ever misjudge someone so badly?
“You took money in my name,” I reiterate in the case he’s missing the point.
“You’re my fiancée.”
“Ex-fiancée.”
“Same difference.”
Rage rushes through me as fast as my hands start shaking.
“No,” I say quietly. “It really isn’t.”
Tristan exhales impatiently like I’m the inconvenience here. “I needed temporary liquidity.”
“You committed identity fraud.”
“I was going to fix it.”
“When?”
He says nothing. That’s enough of an answer. He clearly wasn’t going to fix it and planned early on to let me shoulder this.
That’s probably why he let me discover his infidelity, so I’d end things on my own.
My chest tightens painfully as the scheme dawns on me. I spent a year planning a future with someone capable of this.
“You’re going to clear that debt,” I say firmly.
Tristan laughs. “And how are you going to prove it has anything to do with me?”
My heart drops because I know he’s telling the truth. Everything right now points to me as the debtor. I have no proof. All I can do right now is appeal to his conscience.
“Please, Tristan, you couldn’t have spent all that money. You should be able to pay them back.”
“It was an investment.”
“In what? Cocaine?”
His expression darkens immediately. “Watch your mouth.”
“No. You know what?” I step closer. “You’re going to fix this because if I have to deal with those people again?—”
“Or what?”
The lazy mockery in his voice pushes me dangerously close to snapping. Before I can answer, another voice cuts sharply through the hallway.
“What’s going on here?”
Asher.
My stomach drops instantly. The universe sure enjoys humiliating me. Of all the days he should come here, it happens to be today.
Asher walks toward us in a black suit that sits perfectly on his toned silhouette, looking every inch the intimidating Sterling CEO the city fears.
His eyes land on me, and everything about him becomes even clearer. My body is so crazily in tune with his that electricity bounces off my skin as he draws nearer.
Why do I have to notice how devastatingly handsome he looks before anything else?
“Perfect timing,” Tristan says dryly, inching toward Asher.
My brows furrow as I watch Tristan, wondering what he’s trying to do now.
“Roxy showed up making demands, but I already asked her to leave.”
Making demands!
He’s going to turn this all on me and make me the villain.
Asher’s gaze shifts toward me slowly. His eyes are unreadable as usual, and that makes this whole situation worse.
“What kind of demands?” Asher asks coolly.
“She wants money.”
The words hit like a slap, even though I expected them.
I open my mouth immediately. “That’s not?—”
“She’s upset the engagement ended and wants more money as compensation.” Tristan's voice rises above mine. “Honestly, you should probably fire her before she decides to latch onto you, too.”
This is humiliating.
Anger burns within me, and it’s not only directed at Tristan but also at Asher. Some part of me immediately wonders if Asher believes him. Because deep down, I already know the answer.
I’ll always be the guilty party where Asher is involved. Tristan knows this and is playing into that belief wonderfully.
All because I've always wanted to dress the part and wear a few designer clothes I bought secondhand, Asher is completely convinced he knows who I am.
“Tristan,” I call tightly. “You know that’s not what this is about.”
“Then enlighten us,” Tristan taunts.
My throat dries up.
I can’t exactly scream about fraud and loan sharks in the middle of a Sterling hotel hallway, and the cowardly Tristan knows it. Most importantly, he knows Asher would never believe me.
Asher’s expression grows colder by the second.
“Come with me,” Asher says suddenly.
I blink. “What?”
“Now.”
“I’m not finished talking to him.”
“You clearly are.”
The coldness in Asher’s voice sends irritation through me instantly.
“I’m not one of your employees right now.”
“No,” he says quietly. “Right now you’re making a scene in my hotel.”
Before I can argue again, he grips my wrist and starts leading me down the hallway. Heat rushes up my arm immediately at the contact.
God.
Even angry, my body still betrays me around him.
“Asher,” Tristan calls.
“Don’t worry, I’m just getting her out of your hair,” Asher says in a deathly calm voice without even sparing a glance at Tristan.
I frown. “Mr. Sterling?—”
“Not here.”
His grip tightens around my wrist, completely overwhelming me. He leads me to the presidential suite minutes later. I barely register the luxurious interior before he turns toward me.
“What the hell are you doing with Tristan again?”
The question doesn’t shock me as much as the irritation in his voice.
Why is that?
If I’m not being too presumptuous, it sounds oddly like jealousy. The thought sends a dangerous thrill through me despite everything.
I yank my wrist free immediately. “You dragged me up here to interrogate me?”
“You showed up chasing after my brother.”
“Oh, please.” I laugh bitterly. “You already decided what this looks like.”
His jaw tightens. “Didn’t I?”
Exhaustion suddenly crashes over me all at once as I remember my situation again. The loan isn’t going to pay itself, and Tristan isn’t going to either.
I already have that to deal with, and listening to Asher berate me is the last thing I need right now.
“It’s none of your business,” I spat out.
Something dark crawls into his expression instantly.
“You’re still going after him after what he supposedly did to you?”
“You don’t know anything about my relationship with Tristan.”
“No,” he says coldly. “I know exactly what it is.”
I fold my arms tightly beneath my chest. “And what exactly is that?”
His gaze drops briefly. Heat flickers low in my stomach despite my anger.
Hell, this man is infuriating.
“You like security,” he says quietly. “Money and stability. Tristan offers access to all three.”
The accusation hurts more than I want it to. No matter what happens between us, Asher still sees me as this manipulative person.
“You know what?” I laugh softly. “Maybe you’re right.”
His eyes narrow slightly. I expect another biting remark from him, but instead, his eyes darken as he steps closer to me.
“If you’re going to throw yourself at wealthy men for money,” Asher says. “Why not choose someone who’s richer?”
I gasp. I don’t want to believe it at first, but the look in his eyes shows what he means. He wants me to throw myself at him. What exactly is his problem?
He hates me one moment and wants me the next. Sure, he makes me feel the same way, but this is driving me crazy.
And being treated as a call girl isn’t what I need right now.
“So you’d let me use you that way?”
Asher steps closer, a smirk settling on his face as he leans over me. “Use me? You wish. We both clearly want something from each other. I’m providing a solution.”
I scoff, my chest burning with anger. I try to control it, but I fail; all I feel is his hand gripping mine tightly when I try to hit him.
He clicks his tongue. “Trust me, you don’t want to do that.”
“I think your ego is bruised,” I snap, jerking my hand out of his. “I think you secretly hated seeing me with Tristan because for once you weren’t the Sterling I wanted.”
“And what exactly do you see in him?” he asks roughly.
I shove against his chest before I can stop myself. “What is wrong with you?”
His hand catches my wrist instantly. His grip is strong, but it isn’t painful. However, it’s enough to make me question if I want to keep arguing or do something else to that mouth of his.
“You didn’t answer me.”
“Because it’s insane!” I snap.
“So is chasing after a man who cheated on you.”
Now he’s saying that as though he believed me. That night, when the engagement with Tristan ended so brutally, Asher was of the staunch opinion that I was the one in the wrong.
“At least Tristan doesn’t pretend he’s above everyone else.”
Asher lets out a dry chuckle. “Is that what you think this is?”
“I think you hate women,” I counter.
“I hate manipulation.”
“Same thing to you, apparently.”
His eyes burn into mine, intensely. The tension between us suddenly feels alive again, crackling with an energy that consumes me whole.
“Then why are you here with me if you think I hate you?” Asher asks quietly.
My heart skips. I can’t deny how right he is in that regard. I should’ve left like any reasonable person would do. Instead, I let him drag me here.
“You’re exhausting,” I whisper, choosing to ignore that question.
“And yet you can’t seem to stay away.”
My breathing turns uneven as those words settle in my ears. His gaze drops to my mouth, and I remember exactly how his lips felt against mine that night.
The memory is no longer enough to satisfy me, not that it ever did, but right now, I want a repeat of that night.
I want to know if it’s just as good as I remember.
“Asher…”
I don’t even know what I mean to say. Maybe tell him to stop or not to, but he kisses me before I can decide. And I kiss him back immediately.