CHAPTER 9

Asha

I gazed at the picture on my screen as if it were not real. I could hear my heart hammering in my ears.

Me. Kade. That look on his face.

The headline screamed louder than the rest of the world.

Kade Wolfe's Mystery Woman—Who is she?: A Gold Digger or Secret Fiancée?

Underneath it were lies dressed as facts. My name. Where I worked. A grainy photo from my college graduation. Another from years ago with someone I used to date.

My throat constricted. I was having trouble breathing. Couldn't move. I paced up and down the room as I grabbed my phone tightly in my hands.

Everything inside me buzzed, like a hundred alarms going off all at once. My hands howered on Kade's contact for a while before hitting the dial button.

"Pick up, pick up—please pick up," I muttered to myself, my heart beating fast.

No response.

I tried again.

Nothing.

I felt naked. Like the world had found a way to reach through my skin and rip something private out of me.

And they were dragging it through the dirt.

The knock on my door came fast and sharp, knocking me out of my thoughts

I barely got to my feet when it swung open and he stepped in.

Kade.

He wore a black coat, his polished shoe echoed behind him. His jaw clenched, I could see fire burning out of his eyes.

He looked like a storm dressed in expensive clothes.

I opened my mouth, but he spoke first.

"Don't look at anything else."

His voice was low, but it crackled with tension.

I held up my phone with a shaking hand. "It's already everywhere."

He closed the door, walked straight to me, and pulled the phone from my grip.

"I said don't," he whispered, more to himself than to me.

"Kade—"

"They came for you so fast," he said, pacing now. "Too fast."

"What does that mean?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he brought out his phone. He was already dialing someone's number.

A strange voice answered at the end after the second ring.

"I want every site that runs it taken down. Every blog. Every repost. Do you understand me? Pay them off if you have to."

He hung up without waiting for a response and looked at me.

Something inside him cracked, just for a second. I saw it in the way his shoulders sagged before he pulled himself together again.

"I should've seen this coming," he muttered. "They always dig. Always."

"And what do they gain when they dig?" I asked, voice small.

He didn't blink. "You."

My chest tightened. "They called me a gold-digger, Kade," I said, my voice rising slightly.

"You're not," he said instantly.

"They don't care. They saw me in a black dress, smiling at you like I belonged there. They don't need facts."

He walked to me slowly, like I was glass on the edge of a table.

"You do belong there."

"Do I?" I whispered.

He didn't respond verbally.

As if kissing me were the only thing keeping him sane, he cupped my face. Although his hands were soft, the way he held me conveyed a completely different message—mine.

And I didn't pull away.

Even though everything inside me was breaking.

~~~~~

I stayed at his penthouse that night.

He didn't ask about the second picture and I didn't argue.

It felt safer. Like the world couldn't reach me here. But sleep didn't come easy.

By morning, it had only gotten worse.

I was on every gossip site. Every news feed.

Even my old boss texted me.

"Didn't know you were good at dating billionaires too. Congrats." Followed by a laughing emoji.

My fists clenched by my side. I wanted to throw my phone into the ocean.

I didn't come out of the bedroom until late morning. Kade was in the kitchen, coffee in one hand, phone in the other, barking orders I didn't understand.

He saw me and paused.

"You didn't eat."

"I'm not hungry," I replied, my voice low

"You need to eat," he said, his tone filled with command and concern.

"I need people to stop calling me names," I shot back.

He stared at me for a long second, then set his phone down.

"They won't touch you again."

"You can't control what the internet says."

"No, but I can control what happens after."

There was something cold in his tone. Something final.

I crossed my arms. "Are you going to threaten every blogger in the country?," I asked, pouting my face.

"If I have to."

I shook my head. "This isn't right, Kade. I'm not built for this."

He stepped closer, looking too calm.

"I didn't ask you to be built for it. I asked you to let me handle it," he replied, his gaze falling heavily on me.

"And what am I supposed to do? Hide?"

"No," he said. "You wear this."

He took something small and black out of his coat pocket. I initially believed it to be jewelry.

But it wasn't.

It was a thin leather collar.

I stared at it, confused. "Is this…?"

He stepped closer. "A symbol. One only you can understand."

My voice caught. "Like an authority?"

His eyes softened. "Like protection."

"I'm not your pet, Kade."

"No. You're mine."

He didn't say it like a threat.

He said it like a promise.

I should've been angry. Should've thrown it back at him.

But instead, I reached out and took it.

The leather felt soft. Worn. Like it had seen stories before mine.

He stepped behind me, brushing my hair over my shoulder.

"May I?"

I nodded.

The collar slid around my neck like it had always belonged there. A gentle click, and it was done.

Not too tight.

Not heavy.

But I felt the weight of it anyway.

He looked at me in the mirror. And I didn't look away. Whatever this was, I'm in for it and there was no backing out.

---

It rained heavily that night. The kind of storm that blurred city lights and turned the glass walls of his penthouse into mirrors.

I sat on the couch, curled under a blanket wearing one of his shirts, flipping through TV channels I wasn't watching.

Kade stood at the window, hands in his pockets. He was wearing a casual trouser with a singlet.

He hadn't said much since the collar.

Neither had I.

But there was too much in the air. Fear. Anger. Heat.

So much heat.

His eyes met mine through the reflection.

The distance between us vanished in an instant.

He approached me slowly, as if the hunt was over.

He remarked, "You're quiet."

"I don't know what to say," I replied in a low voice.

"Then don't, he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Then reached for me, and I let him.

His hands weren't gentle this time.

They gripped, claimed and shoved the blanket aside like it was in his way.

I gasped when he yanked me up and spun me into him.

His rough, ravenous mouth slammed into mine. Not anger. Not cruel. But charged with something raw.

Something that burned.

"Say you're mine," he growled against my lips.

I didn't answer.

He grabbed my chin, tilting it up. "Say it."

My breath hitched. "I'm yours."

He kissed me harder. His hand ran through my hair, before caressing my breasts, thigh, and my waist. He traced my hips and waistline with his fingers, and kissed my stomach, breasts, and panty line.

He lifted the shirt and took it off completely, exposing my bare skin and my immaculate soft breasts. "Your body is amazing," he said before grabbing my right breast and sucked it, while he used his second hand to play with the left one.

He stopped and looked up, our gaze met. "I love how you look right now."

He started to undress himself, first it was the singlet, then his trouser, revealing his throbbing cock in his boxer.

I couldn't take my eyes off his cock as they throbbed out. My pussy tingled and I could feel the dryness in my throat as I gulped hard.

Kade smirked. "Don't worry baby girl, you are going to have a taste of it tonight," he whispered into my ears, my breath caught.

He rubbed my pussy through the outside of my panties, before removing it while maintaining eye contact. He rubbed my clit before dipping his finger into my pussy. I let out a soft moan, biting my teeth.

"I need you inside me, fuck me like you mean it," I said in a pleading voice as I looked into in eyes.

"You are gonna need to say that again baby girl." His boxer disappeared like it was never there before and his cock dangled in front of me. Fuck, it was huge, curve upward and veiny.

We didn't make it to the bedroom. We don't have to.

He bent me over the armrest and placed a pillow under me, my hands gripping the soft leather. He bent my back slowly while he spread my legs into an inverted-V shape. He stood on his knees, his hands on my waist.

He didn't hold back.

And I didn't want him to.

The storm outside matched the one inside me—loud, shaking, unstoppable as I moaned waiting for his penetration. He rubbed the cap of his cock on my pussy, making me more wet. Then he slowly thrust his cock into my pussy.

I let out a loud and pleasurable moan as he thrust into me, the stretch stealing my breath.

He grunted, hands digging into my waist.

"Still think you're just a pet to me huh?" he rasped into my ear as he bent down, his chest on my back.

I moaned, my body responding to the rhythm. He didn't stop, he kept thrusting into me. Harder. Deeper. Faster.

My legs trembled, my heart heats up as he increases his pace, his legs moving closer.

His grip became firmer. "They don't know you like I do."

I bit my lip, trying not to scream.

"Say it out baby girl," he moaned, "Call my name."

"Ka—" My voice trailed off.

"Yeah, say it, say it louder."

"Kade," I moaned in a low voice.

"I can't hear you Asha, call my name like you mean it."

He pulled me up, pressed my back to his chest.

One hand on my breast.

The other between my thighs.

"Kade," I called out loudly, my voice echoing throughout the room.

"You're not some headline, Asha. You're mine." He said as he continued to thrust into me. Slowly. Then faster. He drew me closer to himself, his lips on my neck as he thrust more deeper.

"Kade, I'm cumming."

"Yes Asha, cum for me, cum for daddy."

I squirted, my body shaking uncontrollably. But he didn't stop, he held me while I broke apart. I could feel his body vibrating violently as he came into me, it was like the storm outside poured through my body.

We didn't speak, we just stayed there breathlessly entangled with each other. After some moments, he carried me to the bathroom to wash up and laid me down in the bed like I was breakable.

Then curled around me like he needed my warmth more than air.

And maybe he did.

I traced his tattooed arm with soft fingers, my body sore and sated.

"Are you always like this?" I asked, voice soft.

"Like what?"

"Needing to own everything."

His breath was warm against my neck. "Only the things I'm scared to lose."

I turned to face him. "Are you scared to lose me?"

He didn't speak.

Didn't have to.

He reached for the collar and traced the leather.

I understood.