Asher's Pov

 I've swam through the deadliest rivers in the country, taken a shot in the chest, and trudged through enemy territory with a broken leg, and I survived. But nothing had prepared me for this new hell.

"You'll be protecting the Young Master." The old man in front of me said in a posh American accent.

Young Master? Seriously? Who even talks like that?

"I trust you're good... no, excellent at your job, yes?"

He asked, twisting the ring on his finger.

He was nervous. Good.

I leaned forward and smiled. "If I wasn't good at what I do, we both wouldn't be here."

Gabriel chuckled softly. "Why, yes."

 "Cut to the chase, Foster." I said, reaching for my cigarette.

"Sorry?"

"Why does a billionaire want his grandson protected by a man like me?" I grinned. "You know my reputation very well. I was blacklisted from the force and I have a rep for violence and not following orders. Why on earth did you not choose a proper bodyguard?"

 "Because it's you," Gabriel's eyes hardened. "You have a terrible reputation but not a terrible record. Unlike the others, your clients have never lost their lives. Not a single one. I think we made the best decision hiring you."

My grin widened. He looks like a scared little man but he's a fighter on the inside.

I tossed my cigarette butt in his glass of water and rose to my feet.

"You'll be meeting the Young Master today at noon in the mansion. Don't be late." He called behind me.

I replied with a lazy drawl. "Aye, aye, captain."

 I arrived at the Booker's family mansion in upstate New York an hour later. The meeting was supposed to be held at noon but I don't give a shit about punctuality.

The mansion came into sight and I maneuvered my SUV throughout the gate as soon as the security cleared me.

The place looked like it cost tons of money : a stone water fountain, a giant polished building, and the whole shebang. I've seen a lot of places but this one impressed me especially the little paintings in the cupid statues littering the entrance. Whoever painted those was good.

 "Mister Donovan?" An old man in a tail coat, obviously, the butler, said as soon as I got out of the car.

 "The one and only." I tipped my invisible hat.

 "This way, please." He said, leading me into the building.

I followed the butler past red carpeted hallways and paintings of European aristocrats until we got to our destination.

 I paused. Was that classical music?

"Young Master Caden is inside," he said, tapping on the door.

There was no response.

I kicked the door down with my boot, earning a glare from the butler, but who cares? They have enough money to fix it.

I walked into the room, greeted by the smell of paint and wine.

 Something caught my eye and I grinned. There he is. That little fucker.

His white singlet clung to his lean muscles and his trouser was low around his waist, showing a little bit of skin when he moved. He was so lost in his painting that he didn't notice me standing behind him.

Just then, he froze and turned. For a moment, he just stared at me. As if realizing what he'd done, he killed the music and looked past me.

 "Albert, who the fuck is this?" He asked.

 Of course, the butler's name is Albert. Fucking predictable.

"This is the new bodyguard." Albert replied softly.

Caden looked back at me, his babyblue eyes glaring at me like I was some dug underneath his shoe.

"You were supposed to be here an hour ago." He hissed and returned to his painting.

The flowery patterns looked similar to the ones I saw on the cupid statues. Don't tell me he's the one that paints them. This asshole has a talent?

 "Traffic." I shrugged. That was a goddamn lie.

"Well, state your name and schedule and get the fuck out of my room." Caden said, resuming his painting.

 That was rude.

"Are you sure you want to talk to me that way?" I asked in a deep, gravy voice. This boy better not push me.

Caden dropped the brush and turned to face me. "Just get this over with and talk."

 I noticed the bandage wrapped around his right arm. An arm he should've lost.

"The name's Asher Donovan." I had just begun when the little fucker turned towards his painting, ignoring my existence.

"Would you look at me when I talk to you?!" I barked.

Shit. I never lose my temper. False. I never lose my temper that easily.

 "I'm all ears, American." Caden snorts.

"It's Asher, you British snob." I hissed.

 Now, he looked at me. Gotcha.

 "Is that how you talk to your employer?" He rose to his feet.

 I grinned. "My employer is your grandfather..."

"...who is dead so I'm in charge now," he interrupted me with a glare. "You speak to me with respect, American."

"For the love of pizza, it's Asher." I hissed.

"I'll make sure not to remember that." He grabbed a white towel and brushed past me. "Albert, send the American on his way. We're done here."

 Like hell we are. I grabbed his arm and pinned him against the wall.

He seemed so small, so delicate, so easy to break. When he struggled against my larger form, I brought my knee underneath his crotch.

 "Young Master!" Albert cried out.

 I ignored the ass-kisser and focused on the little shit in front of me. "I know 30 deadly moves that can kill you in an instant."

I'm not kidding.

 "So why don't you kill me?" He challenged.

 "Because that'll be too easy." I grinned.

"Let go of me, you brute." He slammed his head against mine. That didn't hurt at all.

"Let go!" He hissed again and I wanted to hear the sound of his hot voice.

Wait a minute. Why do I find his accent hot? What is wrong with me today?

 I pulled away from him as if I'd been burnt and stared at him. With his big blue eyes and lush pink lips, perfect pale skin, and golden hair falling in curls around his heart-shaped face, Caden looked like a fairytale prince - young, rich, and regal, the opposite of me in every goddamn way.

Jesus. Why does that sound gay? I'm straight!

"If this is how you handle your clients then you're fired, Asher." Caden hissed.

His smooth tenor voice rolled over me like a velvety caress. There must've been something in that cigar I smoked earlier because what the fuck is wrong with me? And why am I getting hard just by hearing him say my name?

"Young Master, you can't..." Albert is interrupted again. This time, it's me.

"You have to move." I said. Caden blinked.

 "I beg your finest pardon?"

"Your house." I gestured around the room. "It's a security nightmare."

 "I'm not moving." Caden punctuated his words with a sharp hiss.

 I glowered at him beneath my thick, dark brows. "If your killer knew you'd be at the launch, don't you think he or she would know where you live?"

Caden's eyes went round. "What?"

 I turned to Albert. "He needs to be in a safe house. Lucky for you, I know the perfect place."

Albert hesitated for a moment before he gave me a curt nod and dashed out of the room, probably to snitch to Gabriel.

One hour and 20 minutes later, we were on our way to the safehouse.

"This safehouse better be safe." Caden mumbled as he scrolled on his phone.

I nearly grinned.

Little did he know that he was moving in with his killer.

Caden's Pov

 Irritation stabbed at me like a sharp knife.

 Why was this asshole my bodyguard? He's so rude. Stupid American. He doesn't even deserve his looks. Not his stupid sculpted muscles or his curly black hair or his gunmetal-gray eyes. He's very... ugly on the inside.

 Why did grandpa have to hire him?

 I sigh for the umpteenth time that evening and stare at my empty glass.

 "Are you sure he's not a robot?"

 Gatsby gave me a light nudge in the shoulder.

 I shrugged. "How do I know? Go ask him yourself."

 Gatsby stared at Asher who was busy scanning the living room of my, fireworks emoji, new home.

 She turned to me and shook her head. "Hard pass. He looks like he'll kill me."

 When we arrived at the penthouse an hour ago, I'd called Gatsby over but Asher gave me a hard NO, saying stuff about security measures and knowing your enemy bullcrap. I didn't listen to him. I called her right over and here we are.

 Gatsby tried to lighten the mood but it didn't work out.

 "So..." she began. "Why don't we get to know each other?"

 "There's no need for that. I'm sure Gabriel has told you all about me." He said in a brisk tone.

 Now that I think about it. He was the exact opposite of what Gabriel described. Experienced? Well, yeah. Those muscles could pack a punch but top-notch recommendations? This bloke lacks manners and is basically an animal. Sought-after professional my ass.

 Gatsby lounged around for an extra hour before she left. I'd begged her to take me with her but she'd scurried off. Traitor.

 A yawn escaped me and I covered my mouth with my good hand. I must be exhausted.

 "Going to bed early?" Asher asked like the noob he was.

 "What's that to you?" I rolled my eyes and turned towards the stairs.

 I expected a retort but didn't get one. Nice, that'll teach him to shut up.

 I crashed on the floor the second I entered my room, too tired to even move. Maybe, I'll just sleep on the floor.

 The cold, tile floor was replaced with a familiar warmth I never thought I'd feel ever again.

 Leather and sandalwood filled my nostrils as I floated, I believe, towards my bed. I didn't need to open my eyes to know that it's HIM - the man from 5 years ago.

 I knew this was obviously a dream. I always see him in my dreams, watching me, touching my hair and my hand, and sometimes, kissing me. I never asked him his name after we hooked up but my therapist told me to ask him whenever I saw him in my dreams and so I did.

 "What is... your name?" My words came out slurred. When he didn't reply, I tried to open my eyes but he placed his hand over them.

 "Go to sleep, amore." He said in his lovely deep voice.

 That's right. He also called me "amore" 5 years ago and told me he loved me. It's actually him.

 "Don't go, Grey." I mumbled and snuggled into his arms. I never got to know his name so I called him grey because of his eyes.

 I remember his touch, his kisses, the way he pounded into me like a madman, but I didn't remember his name.

 I never do.

 The following day, I woke up to emptiness.

 The side next to me was cold, reminding me everything I felt last night would always be a dream. Fate, you fucking bitch.

 I kicked off the bedcovers when I suddenly realized something. How the hell did I end up in my bed? I remember passing out on the floor.

 I'd barely gotten my answer when the door suddenly opened and the grumpy American walked in.

 "Don't you know how to knock or did your parents not teach you any manners?" I chucked a pillow at him, one he was quick to catch.

 "My parents are dead," he said dryly. "Come downstairs for breakfast."

 That stopped me. "You cooked?"

 "No. I'm not your chef. Get your ass out of that bed and come make your own breakfast. Your physiotherapist will be soon." He scoffed and turned to the door, walking the way he came.

 I clenched my knuckles so hard my fingernails cut into my palm.

 I'm going to murder this asshole.

 After a quick shower and a change of clothes, I went downstairs to the kitchen, only to be greeted by the smell of bacon and eggs.

 He made breakfast after all.

 "Morning, Caden." Gatsby beamed at me.

 Of course, she made breakfast. The asshole lounged at the head of the dinner table with a cigar in his hand and a wine in the other.

 "Cigar and alcoholic wine in the morning? I see you're hungry for death." I glared at him as I took my seat.

 He blew smoke in my direction and I coughed.

 "Please, smoke somewhere else. Caden hates the smell of smoke." Gatsby said in a semi-polite tone.

 Asher doesn't move from his spot and only keeps smoking. He looked at me, mischief dancing into his stupidly attractive eyes. Does he know something I don't?

 Suddenly, memories of the past flashed through my head - The grey-eyed man smoking a cigar and passing it to me while we drank more wine, smoked more weed and fucked.

 Jesus. I hope my cheeks aren't red.

 I cleared my throat. "Don't worry, Gatsby. I'll just have breakfast in my room."

 "I'll let you know when the physiotherapist comes." She said, patting me lightly on the shoulder.

 Thank God she read the air. There was clearly no point addressing the mountain-size elephant in the room.

 I was used to eating breakfast alone so this shouldn't be too hard. But when I tried to eat, I couldn't.

 Why did Asher stare at me like that? Does he actually know something about me that I don't? Or... oh no. Did he hear me call Grey in my sleep? God, that must've been so embarrassing. Of course, he'd heard me otherwise he wouldn't have been staring at me like that.

 I pushed that thought to the back of my mind and started eating breakfast.

 By the time I was done, I took the tray and reached for the door.

 My stomach flipped when I saw who was standing on the threshold.

 "The doctor's here." He said.

 Those three words were my very undoing.

 I stared at his eyes, grey, almost dark like two little storms waiting to break loose.

 Where the hell have I seen those eyes and why can't I remember?

Asher's Pov

I love watching Caden shiver uncomfortably in his seat. He knows I'll always be watching him.

 Ever since I knocked on his door and told him about the doctor's arrival, the little blonde prince has been avoiding me like the goddamn plague. The worst was when the treatment was over. He walked right past me like I was air.

 Ouch.

Not that I cared about his attention anyways. His life is about to end soon.

He spent the rest of the afternoon discussing with Gatsby. I didn't get the chance to hear them because I hate eavesdropping so I let them be.

Then, I spent the rest of the day in my room, polishing my weapons. Each one I wiped gleamed against the light and made me, the owner, fucking proud of myself. But when I heard Caden and Gatsby's giggles, that happy feeling I felt crawled into a hole and died.

Why was he laughing with her?

What was so fucking funny?

After what seemed like hours (it wasn't), I decided I was done hearing them laugh.

 I marched straight to Caden's room and threw the door open.

 A muscle ticked in my jaw and I dragged my hand through my hair.

 "I swear to fuck if that blonde prince doesn't stay put, I will kill him faster than I'd already planned." I hissed.

He and his little secretary had run off to God-knows-where. The laughter was just a decoy - a recording of their laughter they'd put in repeat.

 That scheming little -

 I dashed out of the room and grabbed my gun. "Get ready, Caden because you're so fucked."

 I got into the driver's seat of the SUV and checked my iPad. Caden wasn't smart enough to notice I'd put a tracker in his phone last night. Well, how would he notice when he was too busy calling me "Grey?"

 The memory of my nickname on his lips sent blood rushing to my groin and I hissed. Not now, buddy.

The beeping red dot (Caden) stopped moving at a specific location. I checked the city's map on my phone and found it. The idiot went to a freaking bar.

I drove past my regular speed, traffic laws be damned. I needed to get to Caden.

Why the heck do I sound desperate? I despise the guy. God, this is driving me crazy.

At exactly 10 minutes later, I arrived at the Sunset Raven bar but it looked different on the outside. There were lots of people yelling with their cameras.

Lots of people.

Cameras.

Fuck!

I park the car and practically jump out of the driver's seat.

 A few of them got out of my way as I approached the door.

I pushed the door open without a care in the world and entered, my eyes searching the space for a familiar blonde.

My eyes zeroed on him and he froze.

 "Shit." He hissed and rose to his feet in an attempt to run.

"Oh no, you don't!" I grabbed him before he could run and pinned him against the wall.

He wriggled against me. "What the fuck are you doing? We're in public."

"So now your brain is working? I'm surprised because it doesn't look like you used it when you snuck out of the house."

 "Don't fucking touch me!" He hissed. If I let go of him this instant, he'll bite me. Not that I'll resist.

Okay. What the hell am I doing?

Gasps and whispers began to echo around the bar. Now, people are talking.

I grabbed Caden's wrist and dragged him out of the bar with everyone watching. They can go to hell for all I care.

I didn't let go of him till we got to my car and I shoved him in the passenger side.

As soon as I got in, I locked the doors.

"Don't fucking move!" I ordered.

"Who the hell do you think you are to give me orders, stupid American?!" He hissed.

"For the last time it's Asher," I scoffed. "And where's your shadow? I don't see her around."

"Gatsby's whereabouts are none of your business!"

"Everything concerning you is my business. Maybe I'll ban her from coming to the penthouse and we'll see who's the stupid one?" I copied his posh accent but it sounded nowhere as hot as his.

Caden grabbed my collar and I could smell his cologne. "When I hired you..."

I cut him off. "...Your grandpa did."

"Shut up!" He squeezed my collar, leaning his face closer to mine. "When you first came here, I gave you 3 rules : You don't touch me! You don't tell me what to fucking do! And you don't come near me! So you better stick to those rules or I'll cut you off!"

 I didn't think when I made my next move. I wrapped my fingers around his throat and tugged him even closer, his whiskey breath fanning my face.

 "And I remember that I gave you 3 rules myself, little prince : you don't run from the house, you listen and do everything I tell you to, and you don't break the rules. Pull this stunt with your secretary again and I'll break your legs."

"Not if I break yours first." he hissed.

 I let go of him and he massaged his neck.

 "We're going home," I clenched the steering wheel. "And this time, I'm tightening security. We'll see if you'll escape now, little prince."

And I wasn't kidding. I hired 6 of my best guys from the company and had them surround the entire penthouse. Caden won't leave without them noticing.

When he first saw them, he didn't like them at all and I was glad. He doesn't get to like anything after what he did.

Memories of the past still cling to me and whenever I see him smile at something, I want to take that smile and shove it all the way to hell.

 I'm not a big fan of the news but this time, I decided to indulge myself. And Holy hotness, you will not believe what I just saw.

Caden reads the headlines before me : "CADEN BOOKER, CEO OF THE BOOKER LEGACY GROUP GOES OUTSIDE WITH BOYFRIEND FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE ACCIDENT."

"Boyfriend? What the hell?!" We both hiss at the same time.

"What is the meaning of this?" Caden had one hand to his hip as he pointed at the picture of me and him holding hands.

 "You tell me. I'm just as surprised as you." I scoffed. Who the hell is behind this shit?

 I gripped the remote and changed the channel immediately. This time the headline was fucking worse.

"YOUNGEST BILLIONAIRE, CADEN BOOKER, HAS HIS FANS COMPLETELY SWOONED AFTER FIRST APPEARANCE WITH HIS LOVER."

 And that was not all, a group of students both male and female gathered outside the company's building with placards and wrapped gifts.

The reporter was still reading out the news when a student came up behind her and yelled :

"Caden, we love you!" The young brunette squealed.

Her friends joined her in the same happy squeals. "Us too. Your boyfriend is so handsome. We approve of him!"

The reporter beamed them a smile and was about to continue when a younger woman in a daring red dress grabbed the mic.

"How could you do this to us, Caden? I thought we had a thing! Now, you're into men now?!" Her mascara ran as she cried.

 Caden pinched the skin between his brows. "Jesus Christ."

"You know her?" I asked.

"Yup. She's Nessa Thompson," Caden sighed. "And I'd rather be gay than have anything to do with her."

"So you're not gay?" I asked, raising a brow.

"Obviously not." Caden crossed and turned to walk away.

It only made me laugh. He's not gay yet he slept with a handsome stranger 5 years ago. How amusing.

Just when we thought that was over, it got worse.

On every social media platform, people started shipping me and the blonde prince.

"Where did Caden get such a bad boy? His man is hot."

"Me thinking I've seen it all then BOOM! Caden Booker comes out of the closet. I'm so happy for you, pookie!"

"What's your man's name @Caden_Booker?"

 These comments were fucking hilarious. I wonder how Caden's taking it.

"That's it! I'm uninstalling every single app on my phone!" I hear him echo upstairs.

 I couldn't help but laugh.

That night, I laid on my back while staring at the ceiling.

 It was less than 3 days till the D-Day. The day Caden dies.

A wave of adrenaline rushed through me and I fisted my hands. I was too busy trying seething when a familiar sound echoed through the house.

Caden!

I jumped off the bed and rushed downstairs.

 He was standing in the kitchen, holding a bleeding finger. The fucker couldn't cook but he's still trying to?

I had barely made a step towards him when Joakim, one of my guys who's openly gay, made his way towards him.

"Are you alright?" Joakim asked, taking Caden's hand in his.

"Yeah. It's just a small cut." Caden winced.

My gaze zeroed on their hands and a boiling rage surged within me. I had never felt so murderous in my life. "He said it's just a small cut. Beat it." I said before stopping myself.

They both turned to me. Caden, surprised and Joakim, grinning like a fucking idiot.

 "I'll get the first-aid." His grin widened.

"Don't bother. Leave." I bit out.

"Okay, boss." Joakim didn't stop grinning till he left the kitchen.

Caden rolled his eyes at me and turned to the sink. "I don't suppose you're here to cook."

"Give me your hand." I said briskly.

"What?"

 I grabbed his fingers and ran the tap, letting the water wash through the blood then I squeezed it.

 Caden whacked my arm. "What the fuck was that for?!"

 "Escaping earlier." I grinned.

 "Asshole." He mumbled.

 "I've been called worse." I smiled.

Why the heck was I smiling?

 I heard a knock on the door. The only people I told about the location of this penthouse were Caden's secretary and those board members. Gatsby was busy with work so it's gotta be those sleazeballs.

Cody entered and nodded at me. "They're here."

So it was them.

 "Let's go." I whipped out a bandaid from one of the kitchen drawers and put it on Caden's wound.

"They asked for just Caden, sir," Cody said. "They want to see only him." Caden heaved a sigh.

"Fine."

He walked by without sparing me a second glance. Rude much?

While they occupied the room downstairs, I lingered in the hallway for security reasons and not for eavesdropping.

"What kind of stunt was that, Caden? You're gay now?!" A gruffly voice barked.

 "I'm not gay! That's some messed up shit the media cooked up. For a second I thought it was the company's idea to divert the people's attention from the assassination attempt." I hear Caden reply with a stifled yawn.

 He was hungry. Remind me to cook him dinner later.

"Pubicity stunt? If we wanted to do that, it'll be with Nessa not a man. Your grandmother is homophobic!" Another voice hissed. Obviously Gabriel.

 "Don't you think I know that?" It was Caden's turn to hiss. "Look, we'll just release an official statement and tell the people this was a huge misunderstanding."

 "If this keeps up, we'll have no choice but to follow-up the second clause of the agreement."

Second clause?

Caden scoffed. "Second clause? What the fuck is that supposed to be?"

"You're not supposed to put yourself out there. The killer is still on the loose. Our plan was to make him or her think you're still dead but you blew that off by running around with your boyfriend."

 "First of all, that asshole is not my boyfriend and second of all, how is it my fault?" Caden scoffed. "You three clearly planned this behind my back!"

 "Caden, your life is at stake here and if the threat persists for 30 days, we will have no option but to deal with it permanently!"

Caden pushed. "And how will you do that?"

 "You will get married."

What?