Asher's Apartment
A soft, golden light bled through the tall windows of the high-rise suite. The sky was a pale wash of blue, streaked with the early hues of sunrise. Inside, there was silence- thick, intimate, expectant.
There, across the room, sat Asher on a leather sofa. Shirtless and a cigarette balanced between two fingers. The smoke curled lazily into the still air, adding to the scent of musk and expensive cologne. His dark slacks rode low on his hips, chest bare and marked faintly with sleep creases. His eye sharp and calculating— remained locked on the bed across from him.
Jade lay there, fast asleep beneath the ivory sheets. Her dark hair splayed messily across the pillow, lips parted, breath slow. She looked untouched, but fragile. Like something caught between dreaming and disarray.
Without shifting, Asher glanced at the wall clock to his right. His jaw flexed slightly as he flicked ash into a tray nearby.
Then, quietly, only loud enough for himself, he began to count.
"Three… two… one…"
Right on cue, Jade stirred. Her lashes fluttered and a grimace tugged at her face as a migraine bloomed behind her eyes. She let out a weak groan, and slowly blinked herself into consciousness. Instantly, the light stabbed at her, forcing a squint.
Managing herself up, she sat partway, disoriented. Her gaze wandered over the unfamiliar ceiling, then slowly around the unfamiliar room. It was spacious, modern, scented with something smoky and masculine.
Then her eyes found him. Intuitively, she froze.
Sitting in the shadows of the morning, with one leg draped lazily over the other was Asher. He was watching her like he had all the time in the world. The smoke from his cigarette drifted in graceful spirals, like he had been waiting for this moment.
Jade jolted upright, yanking the sheets to her chest. "What the hell…" she rasped. "What did you do to me?" The words fell like ice between them. Sharp. Accusatory. Shaking.
For a moment, Asher didn't reply. He took a slow drag, held it in for while and exhaled. Then as if as he had the funniest joke in his life, he smiled. Not that wide, and not that warm. Just… calm. Measured.
"You don't remember?" His voice was low, smooth— too casual.
Just like a flash, memories flickered like lightning in her mind. The pub. Laughter. Drinks. Sienna collapsing. The heat that pulsed through her. The feeling of her own body turning against her. That unbearable arousal.
And then— him. Walking through the blur. Reaching her.
Her chest tightened. "You drugged me," she said, her voice rising, breath shaky. "You— God, what did you do to me?"
Asher tilted his head, amused. "That's a strong accusation, Dr. Sinclair."
"You think this is funny?"
He smirked again, unbothered. "Would it be better if I said you threw yourself at me?"
She stared at him, appalled. "That's not true."
"I didn't say it was." He leaned back, smoke curling from his lips. "But you don't remember what is true, do you?"
Jade's heart thudded violently, confusion mixing with fury. The fact that he wasn't denying it, made her stomach twist. And the part where he wasn't confirming it either made it worse.
Asher simply watched her, as if observing how long she did keep unraveling. The room was too quiet. Too clean. Nothing about it screamed violation. But the doubt lingered. He let it.
And that smile, damn him— it didn't even fade.
Jade's fingers tightened around the sheets, the only thing between her and her near- nakedness. Her knuckles pale. Obvious, she was trying hard to recollect her memories.
Her bare shoulders slightly chilled in the morning air, confirming what she dreaded. Heat crept up her neck as her mind scrambled for clarity.
As the room grew quieter, memories trickled in. Disjointed at first, like whispers behind a fogged glass.
The dim hallway outside the pub.
Asher's hand on her arm, steadying her.
Then the elevator ride, his presence too close, her body too hot, pulse too loud. She remembered moaning about how hot it was. Tearing at her clothes. Her own voice echoing, "Why is it so hot in here…" as she stumbled through the doorway.
Then her fingers fumbling over his buttons. Herself leaning in, kissing him. Hungrily. The scrape of his shirt falling away. Her tugging at his belt, his zipper.
But then— nothing. It all faded to black after that. Her breath caught. And shame curled deep in her chest, quick and cruel.
Jade's gaze snapped to Asher who was still lounging on the couch in silence with the cigarette gone. His eyes still calmly watching her.
She shot upright, dragging the sheet with her, as she wrapped it tightly around her bare torso. "What did you do to me?" she snapped again, voice more brittle this time.
Asher said nothing. Just the faintest twitch of amusement danced at the corner of his lips.
"I'm going to sue you," she declared, stepping off the bed unsteadily. Her legs felt weak, untrustworthy. She hated that.
Asher raised an eyebrow. "You sure that's the angle you want to play?"
"I don't play," she hissed, walking past him toward the bathroom, wrapped in the ivory fabric like armor. But even as the words left her mouth, a deeper part of her remembered how her body had melted under his touch… how her moans weren't faked.
That's what even makes it worst. Just as she crossed into the washroom, the door slammed behind her with a loud, sharp pang. She flinched. Not expecting such an impact on the door.
Asher's low chuckle echoed behind the wood. Satisfied with Jade's reaction. Maybe, that should put her in her place.
~~~
Water soon began to hit the marble floor in rhythmic taps as Jade stood under the shower, steam curling around her like a cocoon. She let the water run for a long time, as though it could wash away the memory— or at least the confusion.
The drug was gone. Her senses were fully back now, but the questions remained. What really happened? And what was this feeling? Nothing was making sense.
After some time, just as she wrapped herself in a towel, a soft knock came on the bathroom door. A female voice called gently, "Ma'am? Your clothes are here."
Jade frowned. "Leave them on the bed," she said, voice muffled by the steam.
Within some minutes, she stepped out. Her bare feet brushing the warm marble floor— now composed in posture, but her thoughts anything calm.
Instinctively, she halted.
The suite she had left was no longer in disarray. The bed was freshly made. Ashtray cleared. Curtains drawn to the sides. Everything pristine, like nothing had ever happened.
And Asher was gone.
A woman stood elegant in a tailored maid's uniform to the side near the wall. One can tell with a second guess, that she had knocked on the door.
Jade's eyes narrowed. "Where is he?"
The maid bowed slightly. "Mr. Cross left earlier. He asked me to remain available to assist you with anything you might need."
Her words were polite. Polished. Too smooth.
Jade clenched her jaw. Part of her wanted to scream. The other part… wasn't sure if it wanted answers or to erase the night altogether.
Her eyes drifted to the folded outfit laid on the bed— fresh, tailored to her size, far more luxurious than anything she did worn to the pub.
Of course he knew her measurement. And he was gone before she returned. She turned back toward the maid, swallowing down the sting of frustration in her throat.
"You can leave," she said flatly.
"Yes, ma'am," the woman nodded.
Jade stood in the middle of the room, towel still clinging to damp skin, while she tried to breathe as the door softly shut behind the maid. She didn't know what game Asher was playing.
But she sure wasn't about to lose to him.