Chapter Thirty-Three cont'd.

Trigger warning ahead (Your dear author is about to seem like a normal human)

Hi dear readers of THAB, I'm soooo sorry about yesterday's mistake. IBS and diarrhea want to take my life (Insert tears emoji). I was so tired yesterday and sick after gym, but I really wanted to upload the chapter that I'd written earlier that day. Amidst my visits to the bathroom, I made an error I noticed literally when I came online to read comments (Which always make my fucking day any time y'all leave it, giving me the energy to write more!!! More comments, more chapter updates daily, I promise.)

Anywayyy, here is the remaining scene for that chapter ATTACHED TO THE NOTE FOR FREE! I love you guys smmmm!

CHAPTER 33 CONT'D

Asher arched one tired brow at the youth-faced man. What exactly could have come in for him?

As he wondered, the kid turned around and hurried toward the staff quarters, returning a few seconds later with two boxes in his arms.

The first box looked boring as hell with the plain brown colors and slight dents at the corners, but the second...

It was a deep, luxurious crimson that seemed kind of velvety, complete with a gold silk bow tying it.

Asher's eyes narrowed at the stark difference between both items, then he glanced up again at the bellboy, who smiled nervously. Wordlessly, he took both boxes, turned to leave, but then Asher stopped and looked over his shoulder.

"Did you open them?" He asked bluntly.

The bellboy's eyes nearly doubled in size. "N-no, sir! Never! I swear! I didn't touch anything."

Asher held his gaze for what seemed like an hour before giving a slight nod, and he headed to the elevator. After inserting his special access keycard, the box began a smooth descent all the way to the penthouse level. 

The lights flicked on, casting a sensual red glow on every surface as the elevator doors slid open right into his apartment. But the place was still in shambles from when he had thrown a temper tantrum the day he changed into an Omega. Scrunching his nose as if he wasn't the one who had made the mess, Asher sidestepped the piles of broken glass and walked deeper into his sitting room. 

He dumped the brown box on the counter and set the red one on the coffee table with a little more caution.

A second later, he sank into his sofa with a groan, tugging off his shoes lazily before leaning back into the chair, staring at the damn thing.

He still had no idea who could have sent it to him.

Well, I guess he should find out then.

He picked up the red box and slowly undid the bow. As soon as he lifted the lid, he immediately spotted the single envelope inside. It was a heavy cardstock, ivory white, and had his initials embossed in gold at the front.

Frowning, he reached for his letter opener and sliced it roughly. Two things instantly fell out of it. A small gold card that had only two letters etched onto it: S-12, and a folded letter written in liquid gold ink.

He unfolded it with growing irritation, already knowing this wasn't going to be good, as only one person in his life had a flair for such dramatics. Asher was right.

The letter was addressed:

To Asher West, 

You are formally invited to the Annual West Family Cocktail Gala, hosted at the Tower Lounge. This is a required attendance for all West bloodline, the Tower partners, and associates.

Please arrive at 9:00 pm promptly.

Dress Code: Slate Black and Midnight Blue. 

Theme: Reclamation.

No plus ones allowed.

Your presence is not requested. It is expected

---R. West.

````

Asher groaned, letting his head fall back against the sofa with a dull thud. 

Of course, he sends a goddamn theatrical parade of an invite instead of e-mails like normal people. Perhaps the man still thought they were in the early nineties. Asher muttered to himself. It's a party, not the fucking Met Gala.

Asher had always been a party animal, but never parties like this, filled with rich pricks sucking up to richer pricks.

All he wanted was sleep... to curl up in bed and forget the entire world. But no. Now he had to find some designer bullshit that fit the theme and show up smiling while surrounded by people who saw him as a joke. And there was his issue of being an Omega. Using suppressants and blockers, he googled on his way back home, will only prolong his heat and make it even more erratic. 

He really didn't want to go, but this might be the only chance he had of impressing Grandfather Robert West and probably convince him to give him the company back.

Gritting his teeth, Asher pushed to his feet, dragging himself toward the bedroom while tugging at his tie on the way.

Just at the entrance of the passageway, Asher paused as he remembered the brown box.

Fuck he hasn't checked that yet. Should he just leave it and come back to deal with it later, after the party.  He glanced over at his shoulder at it and...ugh, fuck it. He already opened one. Might as well do this right now.

Asher crossed the room in a few strides and picked up the box, then he began peeling the tape around it. After tossing the balled-up tape across the room to the pile of trash, he opened the flaps, and his entire world seemed to freeze.

He stared hard at the box, eyes as wide as saucers because dead center in the box and cushioned in black silk was a matte-black anal vibrating bullet. The offensive thing was small enough to be discreet, but when it's up there, Asher would definitely feel it.

That thought snapped him out of his shock and he blinked hard.

"What the fuck...?"

And just then, a loud jarring noise echoed in the room.

Asher's body jerked in surprise, and his heart began thumping hard against his ribcage. it took him a few minutes before realizing it was his phone ringing. He scrambled for the device on the kitchen counter and flipped it over. It was Zane calling him.

Zane was CALLING him... right now.

He stared down at the vibrator, and his eyes pulled back to his phone. Zane was calling him right now. A memory sliced through his brain of when he was back at the racetrack. Just when he was about to race, Zane had called him.

And now...this...

There was no goddamn way this was a coincidence.

Teeth gritted, fury mounted like acid crawled up his throat, and Asher jabbed the answer button, lifting the phone to his ear. 

"Where did you put the fucking camera, you sick fuck."