chapter 2

Asher jolted awake, his sudden awakening spurred by the frigid breeze that had usurped the warmth on the side of the bed he had occupied just moments ago. His initial confusion gave way to a groggy awareness of the situation. His recollection was hazy, but he had engaged in intimate activities with someone last night, despite the alcohol-induced fog that had enveloped his senses. A knot of worry tightened within him as he considered the unexpected presence in his bed.

He pushed himself upright with a sense of urgency, worried that perhaps this woman had overstayed her welcome, a potential inconvenience he had rarely tolerated. Asher was notorious for escorting his liaisons to separate rooms after their encounters. While some took this as a sign of hospitality, others saw it as a strict barrier, not appreciating that it was merely his habit to avoid post-coital cuddling and any false impressions of commitment. This particular guest seemed to have misconstrued his intentions. The remnants of her attire, including her dress, purse, and heels, were neatly arranged on the armchair, an indication that she had spent the night. Asher's instinctual reaction was for her to leave immediately.

Casting off the covers, Asher swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his thoughts dominated by the desire to regain his privacy. He contemplated whether she had left her bed and headed to the shower or perhaps moved to another part of the house. He listened for the telltale sound of water from the bathroom but was met with silence, unsettling in its stillness. Was she perhaps downstairs, making herself breakfast or lounging by the pool? The thought of her wearing one of his shirts or, worse yet, wandering through his house in a state of undress sent a shiver down his spine. He couldn't even find the shirt he had worn the previous night, and a creeping sense of unease began to take hold.

Surveying the room for any sign of the missing shirt, Asher's frantic eyes scanned the floor, the bed, and its disheveled sheets. His gaze landed on a peculiar sight, a stark red stain on the sheets. As he inched closer to inspect it, a chilling realization set in – it appeared to be blood. An unsettling thought crossed his mind, questioning whether he or the woman he had been with had sustained an injury during their escapades. He was certainly in no mood to unravel the mystery of the bloodstain, not with an unfamiliar woman occupying his home. His schedule demanded his attention, his responsibilities awaiting him outside the confines of his luxurious residence.

Disturbed by the enigmatic circumstances that had unfolded overnight, Asher knew that he couldn't afford to waste any more time. He needed to locate this woman and hasten her departure from his grand abode. The uncertainty of her whereabouts was an inconvenient obstruction to his plans, a distraction he could ill afford.

Asher swiftly made his way to the panel situated beside the door, a simple yet effective means of summoning Frederick, who served both as an employee and an integral part of the extended family. The years Frederick had devoted to the service of the family were more numerous than Asher could readily quantify, and their bond had transcended the employer-employee relationship; it had morphed into a friendship of a unique nature.

As Asher sent the signal, he knew that Frederick would promptly respond. A brief yet respectful knock resonated through the door before Frederick made his entrance. His demeanor was characterized by a certain degree of restraint, evading direct eye contact. Asher, who had momentarily forgotten his state of undress, gathered himself and reached for a pair of grey sweatpants from a nearby drawer, concealing his nakedness. When Frederick eventually spoke, his tone was unassuming, but there was an underlying recognition of their unconventional dynamic.

"Sir, you called," Frederick acknowledged, his gaze darting elsewhere in a deliberate attempt to afford Asher some privacy, a gesture of professionalism and respect. Yet, the expected astonishment at finding his employer in such a state did not manifest. This lack of surprise was due to the shared understanding between them, an awareness that Asher never entertained overnight guests in his bed. His encounters were transactional, devoid of emotional entanglements.

Asher, who had been prepared for at least a hint of surprise, shook his head inwardly, silently retrieving the sweats. The conversation shifted to the reason for his summons, and Asher, direct and without prelude, inquired about the presence of the woman who had spent the night in his bed. The nonchalance of Frederick's reply was striking. He was a professional, and his demeanor hardly wavered.

"If she is downstairs eating, please tell her to gather her belongings and be out of my house in the next thirty minutes. If need be, call her a taxi if she has no means of returning home, wherever that may be," Asher instructed, his tone devoid of any empathy, making it clear that his focus was on adhering to his strict schedule. He had awoken late, an unusual occurrence that had thrown off his daily routine. In his mind, there was no time for the niceties that some might expect.

However, the ensuing response from Frederick threw Asher into confusion. Frederick's voice carried a note of contradiction that halted Asher in his tracks, drawing his attention. His perplexed look was met with a revelation that deepened his uncertainty.

"Sir, I think you are mistaken. There is no one in the house except for you, me, and the rest of the staff." Frederick's statement was unequivocal, raising questions about the mysterious absence of the woman who had shared his bed the previous night. Asher's eyes, meanwhile, darted toward the clothes strewn on the armchair, her attire bearing witness to her presence.

"What do you mean there is no one in the house? Why are her clothes still here?" Asher's query was laced with incredulity, for it was evident that she should have vacated his residence immediately after their encounter, never mind spending the night. He was perturbed by the inexplicable situation and the disarray it introduced into his meticulously planned morning.

"I think she left around three hours ago. The cleaner had taken her clothes to clean for this morning. When she came back to return them, she thought your guest was in the bathroom. The security man at the main entrance called, saying a taxi came and picked someone up at around four in the morning," Frederick explained, shedding light on the woman's departure and the subsequent confusion that had followed. It was clear that Frederick, assuming Asher's early wake-up, believed that Asher had prompted the woman's exit, given that it was an hour he typically commenced his day. This departure was a deviation from Asher's usual protocol, as guests rarely left under their own volition when he was still asleep.

Asher, however, was more concerned with the sudden departure of his guest and how it reflected on his performance. It was a departure from the norm for someone to share his bed and then swiftly depart in the morning. While he might have expected a measure of satisfaction from a timely exit, he instead found himself fixated on the notion that he may not have provided her with a fulfilling experience.

"Don't tell me she was in such a hurry she left naked?" Asher quipped, a hint of anxiety and insecurity betraying his outwardly composed demeanor. As he scoured the pants he had worn the previous night, his fingers finally met his phone, which had been missing. Frederick, well-versed in Asher's daily life, did little to mask his amusement, his clearing of the throat serving as a subtle cover for his smile. Asher's fixation on the woman's swift departure, even to the point of tracking her steps, seemed to amuse him.

"I don't think so, but she did leave without shoes. The footage from the cameras by the front door showed she was wearing a white shirt and a pair of grey pants, but she was barefoot," Frederick reported. His attention to detail was unparalleled, and his knowledge of the inner workings of the house was exceptional. It was moments like these that tempted Asher to consider involving Frederick in the security team more directly, given his apparent aptitude for such matters.

"From what you're describing that she was wearing, it sounds like she wore my clothes," Asher commented, accepting the revelation that she had likely adorned his attire before leaving. It offered some relief, as it suggested she hadn't been in such a rush to exit without some semblance of decency.

As Frederick moved to take the clothes and exit the room, Asher experienced an unexpected pang of reluctance. He couldn't quite pinpoint the reason behind it, but he couldn't bring himself to let Frederick dispose of the clothing. "Leave them be, please. Have the driver ready in an hour. My flight departs in three hours. I need to arrive at the airport early to beat the traffic," Asher instructed, finally signaling the conclusion of the conversation. Though he had access to a private jet that he could employ at any time, he preferred to adhere to schedules, even in the face of unexpected developments.

Asher approached the armchair and picked up the abandoned purse. Over the years, he had hosted numerous women in his bed, and most of them had shown interest in returning for more encounters. However, the abrupt departure of this woman left him somewhat puzzled. It was a perplexing situation, as it wasn't often that someone would flee his bed in such haste. The novelty of it, in a way, weighed on his mind, fueling his curiosity.

With a sense of intrigue, he unzipped the purse, hoping to discover any clues about its owner. He turned it over and gave it a gentle shake, causing a few items to spill onto the bed. Among these, something immediately caught his attention—a card, bearing a name, a phone number, and an unconventional address.

**ADINA LOIS KENAN**\

**MELOTHIAN STREET, BROWN RESTAURANT, SECOND FLOOR**\

**+1254********6**

The name, Adina Lois Kenan, was unique and not one he had come across before. It was as if the universe had presented him with a riddle that demanded a solution. Asher couldn't help but feel compelled to investigate this unusual address and the enigmatic woman behind it. With a faint smile curling on his lips, he decided he would personally look into this mystery once he returned from his business trip, which was scheduled for a week from now. He made a mental note to spare some time to meet this woman who had, surprisingly, left a lasting impression on him.

After returning all the items to the purse, he left it on the armchair and headed for the bathroom, deciding that a shower was the next step in his morning routine.

Asher strolled into the shower, the hot water cascading down around him as he made slight adjustments to the temperature. In the hazy memories of the previous night, he couldn't recall the face of the mysterious woman with much clarity. The room had been dimly lit, and shadows concealed her features, but the sensation of her beneath him was etched in his mind. The memory of her warmth, her exquisite tightness, and the intoxicating scent that had enveloped them was enough to arouse his dormant desires.

For a man known for his detachment from his sexual partners, this experience was unusual. Normally, his liaisons ended with no lingering thoughts, not even a recollection of their names or faces. But this woman was different. The passionate intensity of their encounter had left a lasting impression.

As the water flowed over him, he began to caress himself, recalling the sensation of her soft skin and the delightful aroma of her body. He quickened his movements, reliving the way her body had clung to his as they moved together. The edge of climax approached rapidly, and he groaned in pleasure, yearning to replicate the electrifying sensations he had experienced the night before. With an explosive release, he ejaculated, his cum splattering against the glass wall of the shower.

Barely able to stand, he gripped the wall, his legs threatening to give way beneath him. He struggled to catch his breath, eventually regaining his composure. A sense of bewilderment washed over him. Had he just masturbated to the memory of a woman whose face he barely remembered? What kind of woman had the power to invoke such newfound sensations and desires in him? The experience left him in a state of introspection, pondering the mysteries of that unforgettable night.

Asher promptly lathered his body with soap, paying extra attention to his semi-erect manhood. After rinsing off, he stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. His thoughts were a whirlwind of intrigue as he made his way back to his room.

To his surprise, someone had entered the room while he was in the shower. A perfectly laid-out suit awaited him, and a pair of shoes stood neatly at the foot of the bed, completing his outfit. This thoughtful gesture had become a regular occurrence, one for which he often expressed gratitude to his loyal employee, Fredrick. Even the bed had been immaculately made, as if the passionate encounter of the previous night had never happened. Only a few items—a blue dress, a clutch, and a pair of shoes—remained as evidence of the mysterious woman who had left her indelible mark on Asher's life.

Asher moved with alacrity, donning his attire with efficiency. Last night's activities had taken their toll, and he couldn't deny the stirring hunger that now demanded attention. Eager for sustenance, he abandoned his usual dining room routine and ventured straight into the kitchen. There, he found Fredrick, who was already enjoying his own breakfast.

Fredrick, ever diligent, immediately rose from his seat, ready to cater to Asher's needs. "Sir, did you need anything?" he inquired.

"No, please have a seat," Asher replied, taking a barstool at the kitchen island. "I wanted my breakfast in the kitchen this morning. No need to set up the dining table," he explained to his trusted companion. The scent of sizzling bacon and sausages filled the room as a plate of these delectable treats was placed before Asher. Brown toast rested on a separate plate, and a steaming cup of black coffee accompanied the meal. "Thank you, Maria," he acknowledged as he eagerly dug into the food.

Once he had satisfied his hunger, Asher's thoughts returned to the matter of the woman who had shared his bed. He sought to know who had been responsible for cleaning his room while he was in the shower.

"That would be Lacy. Is there a problem, sir?" Fredrick inquired, his expression curious.

"No, none at all," Asher replied casually. "Just inform whomever will be in charge of cleaning not to take the clothes on the chair from my room." Fredrick acknowledged the request and continued to enjoy his meal.

Post-breakfast, Asher made his way to the front door, where the driver awaited. He was keen to learn more about this mysterious Adina, but that exploration would have to wait until his return.

The journey to the airport proceeded uneventfully. As always, Asher was punctual, committed to maintaining an organized schedule even for his private jet, which was owned by him. He abhorred wasting time.

Upon arrival at the airport, he used the private entrance that allowed direct access to the runway. There, the pilot and air hostess were ready and waiting, both having been handpicked by Asher during their hiring process. He had never regretted his choices.

"Mr. Crayson, we are ready for takeoff whenever you are," the pilot informed him.

Asher wanted to be out of this place as swiftly as possible. "How soon can we set off?" he inquired.

"Anytime you are ready, sir. We've already coordinated with the tower for takeoff, and we have received clearance," the pilot assured him. Eager to move forward, Asher was satisfied with the response. "Let's go," he replied decisively.