It’s time I change that.

Today, things will go my way, not his.

I step out of reach and fold my arms over my chest. His sharp glare makes me drop them on either side of me. Fine. I can do it without crossing my arms.

After all, Asher has other triggers.

“What makes you think I want to go with you? I was making plans to have drinks with Owen and Bastian.”

His face doesn’t betray his emotions, but the stiffness of his shoulders does. There’s something I’ve learned about Asher: he’s possessive to a fault. After I lost my memories, he tried to hide it, but it’s deep in him. I often catch him glaring at the male cheerleaders and any guy who talks to me. Besides, he admitted to wanting to hurt them whenever they touch me.

If I want to get something different out of him, I need to stir up his ugly side.

Luring the lion in his den is dangerous but thrilling.

Sure, I might end up paying a higher price than I bargained for, but if it manages to break the pattern, it’s worth it.

“Is that so?” he asks with a lethal undertone.

“Totally. You just ruined my plans, dude.”

“Reina,” he grunts, as if he’s on the verge of blowing.

“What, Ash?” I feign nonchalance.

His hand shoots my way and he wraps it around my upper arm in a deadly grip, making me wince. With a tug from him, I end up flush against his hard chest, rising and falling with his harsh breaths.

My nipples tighten and my bare stomach erupts in tingles with every brush against his T-shirt.

This close, his sandalwood and citrus scent envelops me in a halo, both smothering and liberating.

When he speaks, goosebumps form across my sensitive flesh. “I know what you’re doing, prom queen, and you’ll regret it.”

You’ll regret it.

Although those words should scare me, something entirely different courses through my veins.

Yes, fear is still there. It snaps my shoulder blades together and keeps me on my toes. It’s the Asher effect; there’s no way to tell what he’s going to do next when he’s in such a mood.

The moment we step into the elevator and it closes on only the two of us, Asher types in the code to my apartment. I never asked him how he got it, but I don’t care right now.

He’s still silent like on the ride here. My thumb moves up and down the strap of my bag in an absentminded caress as I watch his side profile.

My toes curl in my flats and my heart rate hasn’t been able to go down since we left campus.

It’s like my body is a flame waiting for oxygen so it burns everything in its wake.

Asher hasn’t touched me, though.

Why isn’t he touching me?

Wait—are his thoughts different from mine? What does he mean about making me regret it?

My back flattens against the far corner, and a different type of fear claws up my spine. Is this the part where he finishes what he started all those weeks ago?

No. He promised to let me find my sister first.

But why would he keep his promise?

My swallow can be heard in the small space of the elevator. Suddenly, it feels so stuffy. My breathing turns short and choppy, as if his fingers are around my throat, stealing my air supply.

He must notice the change since he cocks his head to the side to watch me. Those green eyes gleam with something sinister and dark. They’re like the woods I lost Reina in, sucking me in until there’s no way out.

“Ash…” I trail off, not even knowing what I want to say.

Don’t hurt me? Let me find my sister first? I’m sorry I developed feelings for you knowing full well you weren’t mine?

“Shh.” He shakes his head. “Don’t talk. I don’t want to hear your voice right now.”

I gulp down my unsaid words as the elevator dings then opens; the sound is so loud and damning in the silence, a shiver shoots up my spine and over my nape.

Asher steps outside as I stare at the buttons.

I can make a run for it now. Alex’s security would drive me to his house and I could spend the night with Izzy, catching up or playing Scrabble or anything that keeps me away from Asher’s clutches, basically.

“Come out.” He stands in front of the elevator, both his hands shoved in his pockets.

I glance at the buttons once more.

“If you touch those, your punishment will be worse.”

I glare at him even as a spark of arousal clenches my thighs.

Am I sick? Why the hell would the word ‘punishment’ turn me into such a mess?

He raises an eyebrow. “Are you a coward, Reina?”

I narrow my eyes. He’s playing me and trying to stir up my competitive streak.

It’s working, dammit.

With a huff, I step into the apartment and stand toe to toe with him. I can tell he likes it by the way a spark lights up his features.

Asher enjoys seeing me with no way out but him. In his sick mind, he wants to be the only one who has such a powerful effect on my life.

He’s such an asshole sometimes. Okay, most of the time.

“Go to your room,” he says.

“Why?”

“Don’t talk and don’t ask questions.”

“Controlling much, Ash?”

“Yes. Now do as you’re told. If I do it for you, it won’t end well.”

The fear from earlier returns, and I swallow down my reaction to his words.

With one last glance at him, I head to my room.

“Remove all your clothes and lie on your stomach on the bed.”

I halt in my tracks and my head whirls back. “What?”

“You heard me.” Both his voice and posture are calm, composed, as if he planned this all along. “Not one piece of clothing.”

“Why would I do that?”

His only reply is a smirk before he strides to the guest room where he keeps some of his stuff.

I’m tempted to follow him and demand answers, but my mind is in too much turmoil for that.

With a shaky breath, I go into my room.

I’m not going to do what he says. He doesn’t get to tell me what to do.

Doesn’t he, though? His authoritative, controlling ways always have me bending to his will and enjoying it in sick, deranged ways.

My phone vibrates in my bag, and the sudden sound nearly makes me jump. Shit. He put me in an overstimulated state without even touching me.

I check my phone and find a text from him.

Asher: Five minutes.

No.

No, no.

This…this is too similar to Old Reina’s affair with Cloud003. All too similar.

Maybe Asher read the messages. Maybe he knows about the affair? Is this a punishment for that?

My phone vibrates again and I nearly drop it.

Asher: Four.

I throw the phone and bag on the chair and lift the hem of my T-shirt, yanking it off over my head. My jeans follow next, then my flats.

As I stand in the middle of my room in nothing by my bra and panties, my chest rises and falls with sharp breaths. My legs tremble so hard, I’m surprised my lungs don’t give up on me. My hair is still damp from the shower I took back at campus. The scent of my lilac shampoo becomes tenfold stronger until it’s the only thing I can smell.

My phone vibrates on the chair and I jerk before releasing a shaky breath.

Fuck.

This is worse than being in an adrenaline wave. It’s like constant stimulation with no way of release.