6: Silas Marlowe

Back at home, Silas Marlowe was humming praises for his amazing son, who was going to avenge his dear wife. He picked their wedding photo from the nightstand and traced her face with his fingers. After so many years, finally his son Asher would bring justice to their family. Asher was already in place at Garcia's mansion waiting for the right time to make his move.

“Very soon, my dear, your son will avenge your death.” He spoke to her image. It has been more than thirty years, but the man was still hung up on the injustice he thought was done to his family. The Garcia's used to own the biggest pharmaceutical in the city, and most cancer drugs used to be found there. But then they closed down, creating an instant shortage of the drugs and an obvious increase in prices of the little left in the market. And since Silas and his wife were just mere earners, they couldn't afford to keep up with the medications and in return, his wife's health deteriorated, and eventually, she died. Asher was merely a child back then. He barely even remembers anything of his mother, but that doesn't faze Silas who has molded his son into a perfect tool for revenge.

******

Asher couldn't sleep. He had just gotten off the phone with his father, who hadn't hesitated to remind him of the main reason he was in Garcia's employment. As per their original plan, Asher was supposed to get close to the daughter, Isabella, and use her against her family. But with what Asher has observed, the family wouldn't give a shit whether anything happens to her or not. That's why he is determined to find out Lucas' real weakness. The man had to care for something. Perhaps it is his plastic wife or the dumb kids, Asher couldn't be sure yet, but it was clear it wasn't Isabella.

Thinking of Isabella made Asher's heart skip a beat. She was infuriating as she was beautiful. Heaven knows, he wants nothing more than to bend over any available surface and fuck her to oblivion. But he had a feeling she would require more from him, and he wasn't prepared for any emotional entanglement. He just wanted to get over with his father's plan and get back to living his life.

******

For Isabella, it was a quiet night. It had finally dawned on her how short life really is. And then she thought of her annoying holier than thou bodyguard. Their earlier scuffle had left Isabella wanting to get back at him, just to make him understand who was really in charge. She had never had an employee talk to her the way Asher does, which irk her. “Jerk!” She growled, sliding further under the covers with a sigh. Even in his absence, the bastard was still disturbing her. Isabella thought in mortification. Despite how much she willed to sleep, she couldn't catch even a wink. She decided to get up and puff one or two and then retry again. That's precisely what she did. And she finally slept.

*******

Come morning, Asher wished he hadn't provoked the brat at all. She dragged him to a pool party with horny young women, and Asher had a feeling it was intentional. He couldn't take a step without a lady rubbing themselves all over him. And even though he succeeded in evading them, it was to witness Isabella get fucked against a glass window by a long-haired man with a questionable taste in fashion. It was a test of his patience. Asher was convinced. But there was nothing he could do, rather than watch her part her legs further, giving the man a better dicking position. However the patience he prided himself in ran thin when he saw another dude get ready to take a turn with Isabella. He could no longer keep calm. He stalked to where she was, grabbed her and hoisted her over his shoulder like a caveman, and hurried to the car. Isabella's kicking and screaming didn't seem to faze him.

“What the hell?” She screamed after he dumped her at the back of the SUV. He shut the door to her face for once, ignoring her protests, and it felt good. He then locked the doors and leaned against the car for a minute or two, trying to reign in his raging emotions before he got behind the wheel.

“What gives you the right to manhandle me?” Isabella screamed as Asher pulled to the main road. He didn't spare her even a glance or bother justifying his actions. His eyes were trained on the road.

“Asshole!” She grumbled in defeat when she realized she wasn't getting an answer from him. For Asher, his mind was in turmoil. He couldn't explain why, but all he knew was that he was immensely bothered seeing another man touch Isabella. He still couldn't believe he hadn't marched over there earlier when she was getting stuffed the first time. He blew out air through his mouth, swallowing hard. He contemplated his actions and there was nothing remotely professional about it. He had to remind himself that apart from Isabella being his employer of sorts, she was the daughter of the enemy and by extension the enemy. He shuddered to think what his old man would say of his craving for her.

“Are you jealous?” Isabella asked after a long silence of observing Asher's body language. He was strung like a bow. Asher peeked at her through the rearview and scoffed.

“Why the hell would I be jealous?” Isabella wasn't convinced, so she goaded him more. In the end, she wished she hadn't.

“I like my women with a little bit of dignity!” He spat, pulling onto the garage. Immediately the car came to a halt, Isabella jumped out but not before screaming a, screw you, to an agitated Asher.