After the doctor came to see me, Asher ordered me to stay in bed. When I told him I could return to my own room, he refused, though I had no real idea why because he never returned. I slept most of the day anyway.
Someone left me trays of food while I slept, and though I was pretty sure it wasn’t Asher, I hoped it was. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to know that I was in Asher Voss’s bed.
I wake up Monday morning and find myself still alone. Alone and wanting answers. When I climb out of bed, I do it slowly, testing that I won’t be lightheaded. But when my feet hit the floor, and I push up off the mattress, I feel like my usual self.
I’m not sure if Asher disappeared because he wanted to avoid having me pry about the basement or if it’s because he just couldn’t be bothered with me, but it doesn’t matter either way. I need to know what I walked into on Saturday night. I want answers, and I’m not going to back down this time.
But I can’t see him like this—bedraggled and two days unwashed in my pajamas. So I head back to my room, proud of myself when I find my way there without getting lost and grateful that I don’t run into any of the other staff.
I take a shower, dry and style my hair, and apply a bit of makeup before sliding on one of the dresses that was left in my closet after Asher deemed my wardrobe unsuitable for work. I choose a soot-colored dress that hits just above the knee and molds to all my curves. There’s a V-neck in the front, but it doesn’t dip low enough to really show anything, just hints at the cleavage underneath. Then I slide on a pair of black patent leather Louboutins.
My makeup is subtle, but at the last minute, I decide to add lipstick that matches the bottom of my shoes.
As I look at myself in the mirror, I feel ready to go up against the infamous Asher Voss until I get what I want. I won’t be the innocent, cowering little girl he seems to expect. I’m going to be the woman who has been cocooned inside me, transforming over these past couple of months, waiting for her chance to break free.
There’s a knock on the door, and I suck in a deep breath through my nose, preparing to confront Asher. “Come in.”
The door swings open and Marcel pokes his head through. “Morning, how are you feeling?”
Disappointment squirms through my chest. He asked how I’m feeling, which means he knows that something went down at the very least.
“I’m fine, thank you.” I push away the discomfort as he gives me a once-over.
“I brought your breakfast to Mr. Voss’s room, and you were gone. Thought I might find you here.”
I am hungry, but more than that, I want to get this showdown with Asher over with. “Where is he?”
Marcel walks farther into the room and sets the tray on the dresser. “Mr. Voss insisted that you eat some breakfast.”
I have to rein in my irritation somewhat and remember that Marcel isn’t at fault here. He’s just doing his job, and Mr. Voss is his boss.
“Thank you, I appreciate you bringing me breakfast, and I will have some. After I speak to Asher.”
Marcel’s eyebrows shoot up near his hairline. Probably at my use of Asher’s first name. Oops. “I can see that you’re a woman on a mission right now, and may I say that you look dressed for the part. But if I may also say, you had quite the ordeal this weekend. I think you’d be wise to have a little something to eat before you go discuss whatever it is you want to discuss with Mr. Voss.”
I sigh, my shoulders sagging. “Does everyone know?”
He steps toward me and takes my hands. “Just Mrs. Potter and me. Mr. Voss assumed you wouldn’t want the rest of the staff to know anything was amiss, so he had Mrs. Potter prepare your food yesterday, and I brought it to you and checked on you.”
I can begrudgingly admit that that was actually pretty thoughtful of Asher.
“Good. I—” I don’t know what to say after that. There’s a level of embarrassment and shame for sure, even if I didn’t ask to be drugged and almost sexually assaulted.
Marcel squeezes my hands. “You don’t need to say anything. We’re just glad you’re okay.”
I nod. “So, where is Asher then? He and I need to speak.”
Marcel sighs and drops my hands, stepping back. “What about breakfast?”
“I promise I’ll eat after I’ve finished my conversation. There are things I need answers to.” I give him a pointed look, and he nods.
I’m not sure how much Marcel knows about what goes on one Saturday a month here, but regardless, I don’t want my answers from Marcel. I want them from Asher.
“He’s in his office.”
I nod and step around him, ready to go head-to-head with the most powerful man I’ve ever known until I get the answers I want.
I don’t knock when I reach his office door, just swing the large door open and step inside.