Page 46 of His Asset

Some twenty minuteslater, the driver pulled the vehicle up in front of a towering luxurious hotel.The nameApex Towergleamed in gold lettering across the floor-to-ceiling glass facade, each letter illuminated against the dark night.

A grand stone portico stretched over the entrance, with a dramatic waterfall cascading down a towering sheet of glass behind marble columns.The water caught a spotlight overhead and ripples of gold reflected across the marble floor.

Before our driver had even come to a complete stop, a uniformed doorman appeared at Reuben’s side of the car.His burgundy coat was immaculate, brass buttons polished to a mirror shine, white gloves pristine despite the late hour.

“It’s good to see you again, Chief,” he said with genuine warmth as he opened the door.

The doorman then moved smoothly to my side, helping me out with the same professional courtesy onto the marble walkway.

I glanced at Reuben as he emerged from the other side of the car.“You come here often?”

He shrugged, but I caught the slight tightening around his eyes.“Occasionally, yes. To celebrate a win.”

The casual way he said it made my stomach twist.I wanted to ask about the other women he’d brought here, how many of them had stood in this same spot, dazzled by the same luxury.But deep down, I didn’t want to know the answer.Some truths were better left buried, especially when I was already questioning everything I thought I knew.

The lobby was all marble and crystal, our footsteps echoing across the polished floor as we approached the reception desk.A woman in a tailored black suit greeted Reuben by name before he even spoke.No questions about identification or credit cards, just a smooth exchange of pleasantries and a gold door card slipped discreetly across the mahogany surface.

“The penthouse is ready for you, sir, as always,” she said with a smooth smile.

I glanced at him.No one in this posh hotel seemed to care about Reuben’s bloodied or sweaty body, or that he was dressed in little more than his fighter’s robe.I grimaced as I looked down at my men’s shirt and jeans.I might be cleaner, but I was no better dressed, though realistically, the shirt was likely worth a small fortune.

We stepped into a soundless elevator, its mirrored walls reflecting us back—seemingly mocking us.The numbers climbed steadily: 15, 20, 25, until finally stopping at P.

The doors whispered open to reveal a private foyer that led directly into the suite.The room was understated and opulent.Black marble tiles stretched beneath our feet while matching walls soared upward, punctuated by warm gold downlights that cast everything in a honeyed glow.Shadowed glass doors whispered open to reveal the suite beyond, where floor-to-ceiling windows stretched endlessly across the far wall, creating an unbroken canvas of the glittering city below.

The white kitchen stood out, stark against a black kitchen island and white stools.The furniture was luxurious.Deep fawn leather sofas, gleaming wood tables, carefully placed sculptures and artwork that would have commanded attention in any gallery.But against the backdrop of the sprawling cityscape, even these priceless pieces seemed secondary to the view that dominated everything.

“This is a little larger and grander than your home,” I said, unable to keep the awe from my voice.

He grinned carelessly, as if this level of luxury was perfectly ordinary.“Isn’t it?Makes me appreciate it all the more.”

He shrugged out of his fighter’s robe, my mouth drying at the visual feast of his corded muscles that seemed enhanced by the dried sheen of his sweat, his inked,No fear, no failureacross his collarbone reminding me he’d fought hard in every way to get where he was now.

While Adam had relied on his brilliant, analytical mind, Reuben had used his body, his strength and his street smarts.I hid a scowl.Why did I think of Adam at the most inopportune moments?

Reuben folded his robe over his forearm.“I’m going for a long, hot shower.Join me if you like.”

I swallowed hard.“Thank you, but no.”I glanced at the mahogany bar with its assortment of glass bottles.“I might help myself to a drink.”

Likely more than one.I knew next to nothing about adult vices.But I wanted to live a little, experience some of the sins I’d missed out on.

Reuben smiled, a glint of amusement in his stare.“Help yourself.I’ll join you when I get out.”

I approached the gleaming bar, its surface reflecting the city lights streaming through the windows.The bottles caught my attention with their warm amber liquid inside, each bottle bearing elaborate labels I’d never seen before.

I picked up the nearest bottle, turning it to read the gold lettering.Macallan Single Malt Scotch Whisky, Aged 18 Years.The bottle felt substantial in my hands, expensive.This was what humans turned to for comfort and for celebration, not to mention for escape from their troubles.

I retrieved a heavy crystal tumbler, then unscrewed the bottle’s cap.The rich, smoky scent hit me immediately, so different from anything I’d ever drank.Though Adam had provided clean, refreshing drinking water at his home, the facility’s water had been smelly and tinged with green.

Without hesitation, I poured until the glass was nearly full, the amber liquid catching the overhead lights.I raised the drink to my lips and took what I thought was a reasonable sip.

It hit my throat like liquid fire and I immediately started spluttering, my eyes watering as the burn traveled down to my chest.The taste was overwhelming, smoke and oak and something toxic and harsh.

Thiswas what humans enjoyed?I stared at the innocent-looking amber liquid with newfound respect.How did they consume something so...aggressive?

But as the initial shock faded, I noticed something else.Warmth spread through my chest, and my muscles became looser, less tense.There was something almost pleasant about the sensation, even if the taste was brutal.

I took another sip, smaller this time, prepared for the burn.Then another.