Asher Black: A Fake Fiance Mafia Romance Novel (The Five Syndicates Book 1)

by Parker S. Huntington

  The opposite of courage in

  our society is not cowardice.

  It is conformity.

  Rollo May

  It’s all sorts of wrong, but I find myself laughing under my breath when the cops come and some of their eyes bulge at the ridiculous amount of bodies that lay strewn around the building.

  Apparently, Asher’s perimeter guards killed fifteen of their men in the garage. Along with the fourteen I watched die on the security cameras, the thirteen that were already dead before that, and the guard whose throat was slit, the body count is a mindboggling forty-three.

  René didn’t just hire a few men.

  He hired a small army.

  And they failed.

  I learned that Xavier and the other twelve men that were in the hallway with them were able to get to us so quickly because they live on the floor below ours, which is another security measure that’s need-to-know. They didn’t even explain that to the cops.

  Nor did they discuss their bulletproof clothes.

  Instead, Asher and the entire security team put on clunky bulletproof vests over their shirts before the cops arrived, then put on a convincing show of explaining how the attackers only hit their vests. They even had all the bullets that were shot at them tucked away in a Ziploc evidence bag before the police arrived.

  “So, none of these cameras picked up a thing?” a female detective asks Asher.

  Again.

  He sighs, clearly irritated. “They wiped them and shut them off before I killed them all.”

  “Okay,” she says, but she clearly doesn’t believe him. “And all these weapons?”

  “Legally owned. I have licenses, if you would like to see them.”

  “You can forward copies to the email listed on my card.”

  Asher nods, his arms crossed. He’s undoubtedly over this interview already, and I can’t blame him. I would be, too, if I endured the same level of scrutiny. Instead, when they arrived, the officers took one look at the throw up on the floor, which Xavier rudely pointed out is mine, and inched further away from me.

  Because the panic room is also need-to-know, I told them I hid under the bed and didn’t see anything until Asher called me down when it was over. After eyeing the vomit again, they didn’t question my story. Xavier thought it was hilarious, of course.

  The cop finally nods for Asher to leave, and he joins me on the couch, where I’ve been not so subtly eavesdropping.

  I lean my head on his shoulder and breathe in his familiar scent. “What do we do now?”

  “I’m taking you to Vince’s.”

  I immediately sit up straight. “No. Absolutely not.”

  “Why not? He can protect you.”

  “While you do what, exactly?”

  “The cops went to René’s house to bring him in for questioning, but he’s gone. It’s only Viola there with their kids. I’m going to track him down.”

  “And when you catch him?”

  “I’ll hand him over to the police.” It’s supposed to be a statement, but he says it like it’s a question.

  “You will?” I ask, dubiously.

  “Yes,” he says with more certainty. “I’m leaving to find him. That’s nonnegotiable. You won’t be safe until he’s dead or behind bars.” His eyes glint dangerously under the light. “While I would prefer him dead, I know you don’t want that. I’ll compromise on that, but I won’t compromise on this. I’m going after him.”

  “Fine. But I’m not going to Vince’s.”

  “Why not? His house is the safest place for you right now. You can’t stay here. It’s an active crime scene. Xavier will come with you.”

  “I’m not going to the Romano family, Asher.”

  “Vince isn’t just a Romano. He’s my family, too.”

  “I know that, and I have nothing against him, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s a Romano. And turning to a Romano after an attack like this will look bad to the board.”

  “Fuck the damn board, Lucy. It’s you I care about.”

  “But you care about your company, too.”

  “Not as much as I love you.”

  I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of those three words.

  And it’s because I feel the same way that I notice what he’s feeling right now.

  “Asher… Are you scared?” I ask, surprised.

  “No, I’m rationally concerned.”

  I sigh, because that’s as close as I’ll ever get to an admittance. “I’ll be safe with Xavier wherever we go. It doesn’t have to be Vince’s place. René’s too busy on the run to come after me again.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Then, I’ll hide out until you find him, but it won’t be at Vince’s. It won’t be at the expense of your future at Black Enterprises.”

  “Where else would you go?”

  “Vaserley.”

  He scoffs. “That’s too obvious. You’ve lived there before.”

  “There aren’t any records of that, thanks to you. And the only people there that know I lived there live in my hall. I’ll sneak in, and they won’t even know I’m there.”

  “And you’ll stay in the dorm despite the chance that René might have interviewed your hall mates in the past and found out you’ve lived there?”

  I consider it. “If he was going around asking about me, Aimee would have told me. Half of the girls in the hall are Team Aimee. She has informants everywhere.”

  “It’s still a risk.”

  “It’s my risk to take.”

  “No, it’s not. Not when I love you.”

  I sigh happily at his words but still manage to say what needs to be said, “Fine, but that means going after René isn’t your risk to take, because,” I mumble quickly, “Iloveyou,too.”

  “What?”

  I groan and say louder, “I love you.”

  This isn’t how I pictured my first time saying those words would be like, and judging by the shocked look on Asher’s face, he didn’t either.

  “You love me?”

  When I nod, he closes the gap between us and kisses me roughly.

  He pulls back and demands, “Say it again.”

  “I love you.” My voice is stronger this time, confident.

  He rests his forehead against mine, stares into my eyes, and says, “Fine. You can stay at Vaserley, but I’ll have three guards on you at all times. I’ll have a security team access security footage from Vince’s, and there will always be one breach team and one extraction team less than sixty seconds away. Your three guards will be Xavier, your night guard and Bastian.”

  “Bu—”

  “Nonnegotiable. I compromised, so you’ll have to, too.”

  I sigh but say, “You know, you’re really hot when you speak to me in your boardroom voice.”

  Asher throws his head back in a carefree laugh, and despite the gravity of the situation, my heart races and my soul warms.

  We take about a dozen cars, and when each of the cars exit the garage, they split up into different directions. If René is tracking us, he’ll have to guess where we’re going. One of the cars is headed to Jersey, another upstate, and the rest to random motels and Romano businesses.

  I lift a questioning brow when our car stops at a red light and Asher opens the door for me. He gestures for me to get out, and I notice that we’re surrounded mostly by giant trucks, so no one can see us. One of the trucks is actually a massive moving truck, and I’m ushered into the back of it, with Xavier, my night guard, and Asher following closely behind me.

  There’s no light in the back of the truck, but I can make out the outline of several boxes. I tap on one of them, testing it for sturdiness, before I take a seat on top of it. Someone turns on a light, and the back of the truck becomes dimly lit.

  There’s an amused look on Asher’s face when he says, “You did well on your first bait and switch.”

  “Second,” I correct. “Technically, the whole Caroline and Damien thing was a bait and
switch, too.”

  Asher nods. “You did well, then, too.”

  I grin and shrug, remembering Asher’s accusation a few months ago. “I’ve been told I’m one part mafia spy and one part corporate spy.”

  “You forgot honeypot.”

  “That, too.”

  “Well, aren’t you guys cute?” a deep voice says.

  I screech, almost falling off of my perch on the box when a figure emerges from the shadowed corner.

  So much for being a spy…

  Asher reaches out to steady me, and I let him, my body tense. When the car lurches forward, the light no longer red, I’m able to lean on Asher to prevent another fall. His body doesn’t even sway with the jerky movements of the vehicle.

  “Don’t worry,” Asher murmurs. “He’s with us.”

  “My name is Niccolaio, but you may call me Nick,” the man introduces himself.

  I look at him, taking in his tan skin, dark hair, and dark brown eyes. He’s dressed in all black—black sweats, black shoes, and a tight black shirt that hugs his trim, muscular frame quite closely. There’s something about him that looks dangerous, lethal. It’s the same something Asher has, except I don’t trust it on Nick.

  I press closer to Asher and hope my voice doesn’t betray my wariness when I say, “I’m Lucy.”

  “I know. Lucy Ives,” he says, a brief smile flashing across his face.

  A frown tugs heavily on my lips. “Yet, I don’t know you.”

  It’s bothering me that he knows my last name, and I don’t know his… even though my last—and entire—name is fake. Speaking of which, I should tell Asher my real name sometime.

  There’s a rumble of laughter before Asher wraps an arm around my shoulders, squeezing me against him in an openly affectionate side hug. “That’s Niccolaio Andretti.”

  My jaw drops, practically unhinging itself from the normalcy of its socket. “Andretti?”

  “Yes. I spared his life when I took his uncle’s,” says Asher, casually, and I think he’s referring to the capo he went into Andretti territory to kill. “We’re… friends.”

  Niccolaio scowls, “We won’t continue to be if you keep spilling my secrets to everyone you know.”

  Asher rolls his eyes. “Don’t be dramatic, Nick. Lucy isn’t everyone. She’s one of mine.” He turns to me. “Nick will be with me while I track down René.”

  I’m immediately relieved to learn that he has back up. Even though I neither know nor trust Nick, Asher seems to, and I trust Asher with my life… until the car screeches to a halt, and Nick gestures to the box I’m sitting on and says, “Get in.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Faced with what is right,

  to leave it undone shows

  a lack of courage.

  Confucius

  “Excuse me?” My arms are crossed, and I’m glaring at Nick. “You want me to get in the box?”

  He ignores me, reaches inside a gym bag, pulls out some clothes, and hands it to Asher and the guards. The three of them strip, and I can’t even enjoy a shirtless Asher, because I was just asked by an Andretti to stuff myself into a cardboard moving box.

  When the guys are done dressing, they’re in some sort of work uniform of jeans, a t-shirt, a baseball cap, and heavy worker boots. The caps read, “Donato’s Moving Company,” while the t-shirts have the company’s logo sprawled across the front. The caps are pulled low enough that, if they keep their heads down, Asher and the guards will be unrecognizable.

  I see what’s happening.

  Wherever we’re going, they’ll be disguised as movers, and I’ll be hidden in a box they’ll move. Lucky me.

  “Fine,” I say, hopping down from the box and lifting its lid.

  The box may look like it’s made of cardboard on the outside, but the inside is sturdy and made of plush leather. Asher stops me for a moment and presses a button, causing wheels to descend from the bottom of the box. A handle even pops up, which I assume is to help move me easier. The whole set up is fancy, and it leaves me to conclude that this isn’t the first time they’ve moved people this way.

  Asher helps me into the tall, rectangular box. I sit down, shifting until I’m comfortable. When Asher leans in to kiss me, I glare at him but let him anyway. He’s smirking when he closes the lid on me.

  My fingers latch onto the wall to steady myself as I’m rolled down a plank. There’s less than a minute of darkness before the lid of the box opens, and I’m standing inside a fashionable brownstone.

  “Where are we?” I ask Nick, as Asher and the guards head back out to bring in more moving boxes, which are actually just empty.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  I roll my eyes but don’t ask again. The drive didn’t take very long, so given the New York City traffic, we’re probably still pretty close to Asher’s. My guess, considering how fancy this place is, is that we’re in one of those expensive brownstones by Central Park.

  When Asher returns, he hands me the bag I packed. I packed light with only the bare essentials—a phone charger, toiletries and two changes of clothes. Asher, on the other hand, stuffed his bag with an insane amount of weapons and ammo and all black clothing. He only has two changes of clothes in there, too, which gives me hope that he doesn’t think this will take too long.

  We’re led into a room with a bunch of high tech computers and screens, and until nightfall, I watch as Asher, Nick and the guards sift through René’s life, unveiling everything from the semi-fascist article he wrote for his high school paper to the pregnant mistress he paid off a few years ago. She walked away with a sizeable chunk of his net worth and still receives a massive monthly check, which might explain René’s desire to acquire Black Enterprises for himself. There’s even a deleted email on René’s private server, connecting him to my invitation to the Wilton networking event.

  I’m unable to look away as the guys sift through all of René’s secrets, hardened and horrified by the violating realization that René must have done the same to me at one point.

  The moon is in clear view again by the time Asher informs me that it’s time to leave for Vaserley. Instead of leaving in the moving truck again, we take a town car that’s sitting in the garage. As we get in the back and Nick draws the curtains on the black tinted windows, I realize that it’s for us.

  Or maybe it’s just me he doesn’t want to know where he lives.

  Either way, I can’t see the road as we drive out of the garage and onto the street. In some ways, it’s like being moved in the box again, except I have Asher sitting beside me this time. About half an hour passes before we pull up to Vaserley, which doesn’t make a lot of sense, since Asher’s place is less than a minute from Vaserley, and the drive to Nick’s place yesterday only lasted ten minutes at the most.

  I assume the driver must have taken a long route or driven in circles. I’m not sure whether that’s to confuse me or someone that may be trailing us. Regardless, I’m extra wary of Nick’s cloak and dagger routine, though to some extent, I recognize these moves as similar to the protocols Asher has put into place.

  When I get out of the car, I notice that we’re in the private parking lot for Vaserley employees only. The cars that usually park in this lot mostly belong to the dining hall staff, housekeepers, R.A.s, P.C.s, and resident living administrators. So, it’s pretty empty right now, considering it’s a weekend and the only staff that sleep at Vaserley are R.A.s and P.C.s.

  There’s a door to enter the staff area of the hall, but it’s guarded by a fairly young campus security guard. He looks to be about in his mid-twenties. I’m surprised when Asher approaches the guy, and they bump fists.

  “Ash, long time no see!” the guy greets with an easy smile.

  “Hey, Mark.” Asher gestures to me. “This is my fiancée, Lucy.” He turns to me. “Lucy, this is Mark. We used to train together at my neighborhood’s UFC gym.”

  Mark adds, “That was before Princess Asher got swept away by Prince Charming and pushed i
nto a life of prep schools and Ivy leagues.”

  Asher rolls his eyes. “He’s still bitter that he’s never won a fight against me.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Mark becomes serious, his eyes cutting to Nick and the guards before returning to Asher. “I let Bastian up a few minutes ago. Is everything good?”

  “Yeah, Lucy’s hiding out here for a few days with these two,” he gestures to the guards, “and Bastian. We have surveillance on Vaserley, but I’d also appreciate your eyes and ears, too.”

  “Of course. Same phone number?”

  Asher nods, then Mark opens the door, and we’re ushered inside through the back entrance. Vaserley is a ghost town as we make our way to my old hall, which makes sense given the late hour. We stay quiet, though, being sure not to wake anyone up.

  One of Asher’s guards sent a message to Aimee ahead of time to find somewhere else to stay, so we won’t be waking her up by going inside the room. Using my old key, I open the door into my former dorm room and turn on the lights. I roll my eyes when I see that Aimee’s mess has found its way onto my old bed. Typical.

  Even Asher’s brows raise when he takes in the scene. “Was it ransacked?”

  I’m not sure if he’s joking or not, so I answer anyway, “This is 100% Aimee.”

  “Huh.”

  No kidding.

  Before I can reply, there’s a knock on the door. Asher opens it slightly, his gun ready in one hand, before relaxing his trigger finger and opening the door all the way. I see Bastian first and relax, but when Minka enters my line of sight, I’m instantly tense again.

  “What do you want?” I ask, bluntly.

  Bastian answers instead, “She’s offering to give you her room. Sounds legit.”

  Minka rolls her eyes at the suspicion in mine. “I owe you for saving me from the spiked drink. We’re even after this.”

  “I vetted her electronics history and did a full sweep of her room. Everything checks out,” Bastian continues, ignoring us. “It’s a better option than Lucy’s old room.”

  Asher turns to me and lifts a questioning brow. I sigh and nod, because Bastian is right. It makes more sense to hide out in Minka’s room than one that I’m known to have stayed in.