Chapter 2

I don't even turn towards the voice. I feel like I'm going to turn to stone. I guess I should have expected that, given everything that happened years ago. Of course, he's married. Did I think he was going to wait for me his whole life?

But I still can't believe it. I'm still not ready for the pain that envelops me when I hear that he's moved on, he's married, and he has a family.

I feel like I'm going to cry.

Asher doesn't say anything. He just looks at me, and I just stand there. Frozen into place.

All of a sudden, he barks. "get out!" the sound of his voice, the power in it—there seems to be some anger in it, and I can't help myself but scramble and start running towards the door.

But then he stops me again.

"Not you," he says.

"Everybody out," he continues.

Everybody stands up, and the whole room clears out in an instant.

I'm left standing there, looking at him as he looks back, he just stares at me blankly. There is no expression on his face.

I don't know how to react. I'm nervous as hell. I do not know what to say or do with myself.

It's been five years. He's already married. He's moved on. There's no reason I would think that he was still mad at me, that he still had grudges about what happened years ago.

Looking at him now, I can see how he has only gotten more captivating, more beautiful, more handsome with age. The boy I once knew is gone.

The Asher I loved had a reckless charm, a raw, untamed fire in his eyes. When I was in love with him, he still had this boyish, young look about him. And now—Now he looks older, wiser, stronger.

Oh so sexy...

It’s in the way he carries himself, the quiet authority in his voice. It’s in the way his tailored suit fits him, the way his jawline has hardened with time.

This is the better version of him. And somehow, that makes it hurt even more.

He aged like fine wine. I always knew that he was going to get even more handsome by the day. I just feel bad that I'm not that woman for him anymore.

Asher is still staring at me, he's not saying anything, and I can't read his expression, I decide to take the peaceful, easier way out. Words tumbling out...

"Hey, Asher. It's been a long time, right? Was that five, or four years? How are you? How have you been doing?"

He's just staring at me. I find myself continuing, blurting out words.

"You're Don now. That's nice. Congratulations. When did that happen?"

He raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I'm not in that world anymore, but I'm so glad that you moved on. Married and everything. That's so nice. I'm so glad that you're happy."

I don't know why I keep talking.

He's still staring at me, and I'm starting to sweat. A thought cones to me, Maybe he doesn't even recognize me. Maybe he just felt bad when his men or his acquaintances were touching me. I don't think he remembers me.

I laugh awkwardly. " You probably don't even remember who I am...But thanks for helping me out there. If you don't mind, I'll just get you your order."

I'm about to turn and leave when he stands. I find myself stuck in place as He stands to his full height.

Tall. Powerful.

His presence fills the room. And for the first time in five years, I feel it—the force of him.

He's so imposing. So controlled. So hot.

Oh my God. I can practically hear my ovaries dying.

My body betrays me.

Five years. Five years in the desert. No touch. No heat. Nothing but memories of what it was like to have him—his body, his hands, his mouth.

And now, seeing him, watching him walk toward me, knowing exactly what he's capable of… it's a struggle to stand here and act unaffected.

He moves with purpose, oozing power, and when he stops in front of me, I have to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. He's way too tall.

That's when I see it—the anger, the fire, the coldness lurking in his dark eyes.

Then, a slow smirk appears on his lips.

"Oh, I remember you, Ariella Costa. I remember you as clear as day."

His voice sends a shiver through me.

Five years ago, Asher Romano made me a promise. He promised I would regret ever breaking my promise. Ever breaking his heart.

And today, I feel like I just walked into his trap.

His next words are cruel. Mocking.

"People at home think you died five years ago. Your parents already mourned you. They're probably working on forgetting you ever existed."

I swallow hard.

It wasn't what I wanted to do. But it was what I had to do.

"Setting that fire to your house was perfect," he continues, his voice sharp, deadly.

"But you can never run away from me, Ariella. I knew I would find you and have my revenge."

My body tenses immediately. The way he's looking at me—with unfiltered, raw hatred...I should be terrified.

No, I am terrified.

Because right now, I have more than just myself to think about. I have a son who knows nobody but me. A son who needs me.

I cannot die.

"Please… don’t kill me."

The words slip out in a broken whisper, my voice trembling, my entire body shaking.

But instead of answering, Asher raises a hand. I flinch and close my eyes.

To my absolute horror, he touches me. Slowly, smoothly, almost tenderly.

His fingers caress my right cheek with a softness that sends an involuntary shiver through my body.

I don’t know if it’s fear or something else entirely. I don’t know if I want to find out.

A wicked laugh escapes his lips, dark and knowing.

"Why would I want to kill someone as beautiful as you, Ariella Costa?"

His voice is taunting with danger underneath.

"You have this beauty that captivates men, don’t you? There were plenty of naked women in this room, but the second you walked in, the men lost control. They wanted a piece of you. They wanted to own you."

His fingers trail down my jaw, tilting my chin up.

"Not knowing you already belong to me."

I swallow hard, my breath caught in my throat.

He moves away, settling into a chair with ease. He unbuttons his coat, leans back, and spreads his legs apart like a king, which I guess he is...

And then, his voice turns lethal.

"From now on, Ariella Costa, you are mine to use. Mine to play with. Mine to do with as I please."

The words hit me like a heart attack.

"Your body belongs to me. Your mind belongs to me. Your soul belongs to me."

He smirks, his dark eyes locking onto mine.

"I own you."