Chapter 45 Asher/Ella
ASHER/ELLA
ASHER
“Someone had better get me some fucking answers and they better get them quick!” I roar at my security team.
I’m back at the penthouse and Ella is nowhere to be found.
I’ve watched the video of her dashing across the penthouse with a suitcase a dozen times, and it still guts me each time. She ran. She fucking ran.
Anxiety claws at me, threatening to consume me.
I don’t know where she is, and she has no security with her.
Anything could happen. Worst of all, she left her cell phone here so I can’t track it.
The only silver lining is she took her old cell phone so we’re working to get a trace on it.
Waters managed to get the cab number that Ella climbed into from the footage of the building’s security, so he’s working to get in touch with the driver and find out where he took Ella.
But so far, we haven’t been able to get through.
Matthew for once is quiet as he works. Neither he nor Emily have spoken much since Ella stormed out of my office two hours ago.
They’re both working on the timeline issue with the story, but that’s the last thing on my mind.
I don’t care about the goddamn story anymore.
All I can focus on is the fact that Ella ran.
I’m so angry and terrified that nothing else matters.
And I know I’m being irrational. Ella was outside of the building for less than thirty seconds before she got in the cab and it sped away.
The paparazzi didn’t see her, and they didn’t follow her.
I know that. But as someone who has been required to keep a security detail on me at all times, even in my home, for my entire life, the idea of her being out and about without security is driving me out of my mind.
I’ve called all of Ella’s friends and none of them have heard from her.
But they were all very interested in why she fled from me.
I’ve never been sworn at in Russian before and I got that lovely experience thanks to Lucya Morozov—an already cantankerous thorn in my side, and I never want to experience it again.
Suffice it to say, Ella’s friends are furious with me.
And I can’t blame them, because fuck, I was such an ass.
In the moment though, I was oblivious to it.
Conrad’s threat hit me hard, and I didn’t handle it well.
All I was thinking about was how I can’t afford to lose my shares.
It would be disastrous. Not just for me, but because of what it would mean for the company.
Most of the board members don’t care about anyone but themselves and their own self interests.
I can’t have them wielding any more power than they already do.
I can only imagine what they would try to do if given the power.
Wages would be cut, first and foremost. They hate the pay demands and incentives I put into place four years ago.
Then they’d go after health benefits and bonuses, and that’s just within our company and our subsidiaries.
After that they’d hit the consumers. They’d do anything and everything to bring profits up to maximum levels, no matter the collateral damage.
So, in my head, I felt justified in my pressuring of Ella.
I couldn’t see why she couldn’t see the bigger picture.
But fuck, she wasn’t in that little impromptu meeting with Janet, Henry, and Conrad.
She didn’t hear their threats. She doesn’t know that we have only sixty more days to prove that this PR stunt worked.
And she doesn’t know what the board will do if they seize control of my shares.
All she knows is that I asked her to air one of her most vulnerable moments with the world, and when she said no, I pushed back like an asshole.
I always pride myself on operating without emotion, and yet that’s the opposite of what I did.
I got scared and I pushed without thinking things through from Ella’s point of view.
Fuck, if anyone understands what it’s like to want to keep a story buried from the public, it’s me.
I’ve hidden a story for twenty-five years, and I never intend for anyone outside my immediate family to learn about it.
Not just because it might put our family at risk, but because of what that night did to me.
I’ll never be the same. Ella’s situation may not have been quite as dramatic as that, but it was still awful.
When she said she had pictures of the bruises Kyle left on her body, and she divulged that he had thrown her into a wall, I almost lost it.
That motherfucker hurt her, and then I asked her to go blab about it to the world because the trio of assholes from the board got their panties in a twist over a story that hasn’t even broken yet.
I’m a fucking idiot.
“Sir, I just got a hold of the driver of the cab,” Waters says. “I’ll see what he has to say.”
I hold my breath and loosen my tie.
Ten minutes later we have an address and we’re out the door.
I reach into my pocket and run my thumb over the ring inside it.
My ring that she left behind. That won’t happen again, I’ll make sure of it.
I fucked up and I’ll grovel, beg, plead—whatever I have to to get her to come back home. To get her to wear this ring.
I can’t feel like this ever again.
ELLA
If Asher could see my texts now, he’d think I’m crazy. He’d think I’m a hypocrite. But I’m not. But I am playing a dangerous game of chicken with Kyle, and I hope to hell it works.
I got an interesting email from RTZ about a story that’s due to break tomorrow. I read the story, and funny enough, it read like fiction, because everything in it is completely made up.
It’s the truth.
I never even met Asher until after we broke up.
That’s a lie.
It’s not. But you know what? It doesn’t even matter. Because even if the public believes I cheated on you with Asher, which I didn’t, they’ll look past it pretty quickly when I tell them my side of the story and what you did to me.
You left me and cheated on me, it doesn’t get much worse than that.
What about theft? Is that worse? I have screen shots of all of my bank and credit card accounts, and how you stole thousands of dollars from me.
You can’t prove it was me.
I sure can. I have the bank’s CEO’s number. I just have to call him up. He’s afraid of Asher, so I’m sure he’ll provide me with any documentation I need. But that’s not all I have. I have the lovely videos of you burning my things. How do you think people will look at that?
They’ll say you deserve it for being a cheating whore.
And the pictures I have of the bruises you left on me?
How about when I tell people you threw me into a wall because I broke up with you?
You didn’t assault me for cheating, you assaulted me because you’re a small, insecure little man who couldn’t handle rejection.
I haven’t called the NYPD about my case in a few weeks because I’ve been busy.
But I can remedy that, and I can pressure them to hurry things along with the assault charges.
I have all the proof. And I can arrange for the media to be outside your apartment when you’re arrested for domestic violence. How does that sound?
YOU BITCH
No, you’re the little bitch. I was content to let this all go.
I moved on with my life but you clearly couldn’t do the same, and now you’ve fucked yourself over.
If this story goes live, I’ll go public with the theft and assault.
Not only will the public turn on you, but you’ll find yourself in jail.
And if you think your court-appointed public attorney is any match for Asher Langford’s legal team, you’re even more deluded than I thought.
They’ll bury you in court and make sure you serve the maximum time for every charge brought against you.
You could have just walked away, Kyle, but you chose to fuck around and now you’re about to find out how stupid that was.
Asher Langford is one of the richest and most powerful men on the planet.
He will destroy everything you have and he can do it without even trying.
But I could convince him not to if you pull your head out of your ass and call the story off.
It takes almost an hour to get a response.
I called RTZ, they’re refusing to retract the story you stupid cunt.
Dammit. Okay, fine. I’ll go straight to the source. I call RTZ and sit on hold, waiting to speak with their editor in chief. This game of chicken is getting riskier by the minute, but it’s my only option.
“Ms. Hale,” the man says, finally answering. “What can I do for you?”
“The Langford Holdings PR team for Asher Langford received an interesting email this morning. It was a leaked copy of the article you all plan to publish tomorrow.”
The man is silent for a moment. “And what do you want from me?” His voice is aggravated, he clearly wasn’t aware that the story had been leaked to us.
“I want you to know that the Langford Holdings legal team is already putting together a case for slander and defamation.”
He laughs. “That’s what they always say.”
“Yes, but this time there will be legal charges mixed within the suit as well. You see, Kyle, the little star of your article, failed to inform you of some very problematic points in his story. Not only is his version of events completely false, he is currently under investigation from the NYPD for theft and assault. So, if your publication wants to be the type of publication who props up men for assaulting and stealing from their girlfriends, you go right ahead. In a post Me Too Movement world, we’ll see how the public reacts. ”
“Wait, are you saying he assaulted you?”
“Yes. And I have proof. Pictures, videos. I also have proof that he stole thousands of dollars from me.”
“If you’re willing to go with that story, I could probably make a deal.”