Chapter 2

Evelyn’s face drained of color. She bit her lip and bowed her head, her eyes flashing with resentment.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Vance. I crossed the line. I was just worried about your health."

Asher ignored her. He turned to me and tilted his chin up slightly. "Aria, come to my study."

I meekly followed him upstairs.

The study door closed, shutting out the rest of the world.

Asher sat behind his wide executive desk and pointed to the chair across from him. "Sit."

I sat up straight.

"We’re doing it again tonight."

"Huh?" I blinked. "You mean... the kneading?"

"Yes." He opened a file, not even looking up. "Your massage actually helped. I’m doubling your base pay. Starting tonight, you don’t have to sleep on the couch anymore. You're sleeping in the bed."

Doubling my pay meant twenty thousand dollars a month!

My eyes lit up, and my brain immediately started calculating how many premium cat cans that could buy.

But... sleep in his bed?

I shrank back defensively. "Mr. Vance, I’m a therapist, not an escort."

Asher looked up, his dark eyes locking onto mine. A faint, barely perceptible smirk played on his lips.

"Do you even have any other skills besides kneading my chest?"

I choked on my words.

This human was so annoying. If it weren't for his delicious energy, I would have scratched his handsome face by now.

"Your only job is to make sure I sleep. If I wake up and find you're not in the bed..." His voice went cold. "I’m docking your pay."

I immediately nodded like a bobblehead.

Night fell quickly.

The villa was dead silent. The butler and the maids had already retired to the guest house next door.

I pushed open the door to Asher’s bedroom holding a warm glass of milk, only to find the room pitch black.

The air was heavy with a suffocating, tense pressure.

I tentatively called out, "Asher?"

No response.

I fumbled for the light switch. The moment the lights flickered on, I gasped.

The massive French windows were shattered, glass littering the floor as the cold wind howled inside.

The room was completely trashed. Priceless paintings were torn in half and scattered across the carpet.

Asher was curled up in the shadow behind the sofa, clutching his head, letting out painful, repressed gasps.

His rage episode had hit, and it was far worse than ever before.

I set the milk down, my first instinct being to run out and call for help.

Evelyn had proudly claimed this afternoon that her new medication would keep him stable for a week.

Clearly, the medicine was garbage and had triggered a severe relapse.

But as I turned to run, a heavy thud sounded behind me.

Asher had collapsed out of the shadows. He snapped his head up, his eyes bloodshot and completely wild.

He saw me.

His gaze was like a predator locking onto its prey.

Every single hair on my body stood on end.

My survival instincts screamed: Run!

Before I could even take a step, Asher lunged. His speed was terrifying, far beyond that of any normal human.

He grabbed me and slammed me down onto the nearby sofa.

My back collided with the cushions, and I winced in pain.

Asher pinned my legs down and locked his hands tightly around my neck.

"Too loud! Shut up! Everyone shut up!" he muttered incoherently, his grip tightening by the second.

I struggled to breathe, my hands clawing at his iron grip.

I wasn't completely helpless. I could use my shifter magic to defend myself, but that would mean losing my job and exposing my identity.

I didn't want to do that.

I didn't feel any real malice or intent to kill from Asher.

He was just in agonizing pain, desperately grabbing onto anything nearby.

"Asher..." I choked out.

He didn't hear me. His eyes were wild, his hot breath brushing against my face as his grip tightened further.

I couldn't wait any longer.

I braced myself, wrapped my arms around his head, and pressed my forehead firmly against his.