The CEO's Fake Wife

Murder on the highway

“What do you mean?! He can't possibly be burnt to crisp. Make sure that you leave no traces and the job is done properly!” The man's face darkened as he recalled the news he had recieved. His hands in the steering wheels were clenched tightly, a visible frown on his face.

“f*****g bastard!” Unable to rein in his anger, he punched the steering wheel. “I hope you rot in hell” With that, he pushed on the gas pedal.

The time in his car was 10pm

He maintained a high speed, turning the almost empty road to his racing tracks. All of a sudden, he noticed how something… or someone immediately appeared on the road but it was too late to push the brakes.

A sickening crack echos as the car hits the person, lifting them up until they slammed down on the pavement. “f*****g BASTARD!” Asher pulled the car to a stop, stepped out of the car to look around. After ensuring that there were no cameras that would have recorded his actions, he lets out a sigh of relief.

Since it was an almost deserted road, there were no passerby or incoming vehicle. He took a few steps towards where the body laid, he hissed as he saw the snapped neck that had been distorted to a wierd angle which indicated that the person was on their last breath.

“You should blame your luck.” With that, he simply turned around without as much as a backward glance, got into his car and zoomed off. A few minutes later, when the sound of patrol sirens filled the area of the crime, Asher was already long gone.

He packed his car in front of a house, hurried out and passed his keys to one of the bodyguards that stood in front of the house. “Boss may be occupied.” The man who accepted the key said in a gruff voice.

“Whatever,” Asher walked in, ignoring the strange looks of the people present in the living area as he made his way to the stairs and to a room on the far end of the second floor.

Asher heard the moaning of a woman but he simply opened the door and stepped inside without a care. His eyes instantly went to the bed where a pair were tangled up, the woman moaning loudly as the man thrust hurriedly into her. They were both engrossed in their activities that they didn't notice that they had another occupant in the room.

“Screamer huh?” Asher mumbled under his breath.

The room was dim, cause of the bedside lamplight and city lights that peeked through half-drawn curtains. The air was filled with scent of perfume, sweat, s*x and something expensive that must have been spilled onto the carpet, whiskey. A silk shirt lay crumpled near the foot of the bed, a lacy bra tossed on the sofa and one stiletto heel tipped on its side beside a fallen glass of whiskey.

The woman was the first to look up and when she locked eyes with Asher, she froze. The man under her groaned at her pause, he raised his head ready to lash out at who had ruined his moment but the words in his throat died the very second he saw who stood in the doorway.

“Why is it you? Why are you here?”

Asher didn't respond, he simply stood with one hand in his pocket and the other resting on the doorknob. His eyes were calm, and a flat expression on his face.

With a small whimper, the woman scrambled backward, grabbing the bedsheet to cover her chest with trembling fingers. “Sorry!” She goes to pick up her clothings that were laying about in the room.

“What do you want this time?” The man said with a frown. “Your job has been done, why are you here?”

With a blank expression , Asher simply turned the lock of the door behind him, the man's eyes widened at his actions and finally, there was a flicker of fear on his face. “What are you doing??”

The woman became still as she heard the sound of the lock. There was raw fear on her face as she began to imagine the worst. ‘Is this where I would die?’ She inwardly questioned herself.

She had been picked up from a bar with the promise of a good time and enough compensation. Even though she found the identity of the man sketchy, she knew better than ask unnecessary questions. She began to blame herself for her impulsive actions.

“Asher,” the man said more sharply, sitting up now. “Open the damn door and let her leave.”

Asher didn’t answer him.

He walked into the room calmly, stepping over the discarded clothing like it wasn't even there. His gaze glanced around the room and settled in a armchair which he walked to and sat on.

Besides the arm chair was a small table, on it was a pack of cigarette and a lighter. Asher took a cigarette, lighted it and took a deep breath before exhaling.

The puff seemed to release the tension that were in his bones. “You can go on Ricky, pretend like I'm not here.” He said nonchalantly and looked away.

The man, named Ricky swung his legs and got off the bed. “Are you out of your mind?”

Asher leaned back agani the chair, placed one ankle over his knee, closes his eyes and took more puffs of the cigarettes before responding. “Most likely.”

“Why are you here?” Ricky asked

Asher did open his eyes “I needed a quiet room.”

The man let's out a dry laugh. “And this was your first choice?”

“No,” There was irritation on Asher's face, he was getting pissed at the questions. “It was the available choice.”

Ricky ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. “Then find another one.”

Asher slowly turned his head to his direction and opened his eyes. Tension seemed to fill the room at that small action. “If I leave this room,” he said coldly, “I’ll have to deal w

ith people I don't want to see.”