One Night With Mr Braxton

Chapter 44 – Of blood and salty water!



” Would you marry me and make it all go away? ” Asher asked, baring his soul with his words.

” W-what do you mean? ” She asked, gulping uncomfortably.

” I mean exactly what you heard. Marry me and make it all go away, Ms. Emma. Would you marry me? ” He asked again.

” I told you. I got my memories back. We’ve been through this before…”

” That’s besides the point. You wanted to know why I’m lounging around while my life’s work burns to the ground? This is it.” He explained curtly.

” I’m sorry but that’s hardly an explanation.” She said, picking up a glass of water.

” I am under serious pressure to marry a lady from the Steele’s household. In other words, to regain full leadership and supreme power over my empire, you need to be by my side, as my wife.”

Asher spoke like it wasn’t a big deal. His tone was similar to one speaking about the weather meanwhile Emma felt like a fish out of water.

In fact, she choked on her water upon hearing Asher’s words. Being the perfect gentleman, Asher handed her a handkerchief, casually strolled towards her and patted her back dotingly.

Emma didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. While she tried to recover from her near death experience, his firm palm sent shockwaves through her body.

Asher, in an attempt to be a gentleman, kept sending wrong signals to her betraying body. Every single time his hands made contact with her clothed back, her body reacted and an unforeseen hiccup manifested.

Every single time!

In the few seconds he stood by her, she found herself in need of the very thing that caused her chest and breath pipes in disarray.

The man standing by her was so hot, mouthwatering and flat out intimidating. Her throat dried the more as she wheezed out in discomfort, finally getting a semblance of stability but needing water nonetheless.

” Do have some water.” Asher spoke, reassuming his position opposite her.

” Thank you.” Emma spoke, feeling noticeably better. She wanted to say something, anything about the matter at hand but she felt dumbfounded.

How does one react to such information and casual invitation to marry? Emma believed in love, she believed in happily-ever-afters. She loved to think of herself as one of those fairy princesses who ended up living their dream life with a prince charming by their side.

If he had previously proposed such to her, stating this absurd reason, she might have considered helping him but since she was already dead, she doubted if she was still considered a Steele lady.

Furthermore, she wanted to maintain a low profile while she got her life together, preferably without the influence of her family and marrying him rendered those prospects impossible to attain.

She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t sacrifice herself for another man’s comfort. After everything she’s been through, she made a decision to be selfish in everything. To put herself as the top and only priority of life.

It was too early to disappoint that promise. No matter how daunting and out of control the case seemed, she wanted no part of it.

He was Mr. Braxton. She had to believe she wasn’t his only choice. After all, if she had died, he’d most definitely create an alternative route to achieving the desired.

She was just an option in the thousands he has. Matter of fact, she was probably the easiest route, hence his saving her and attending to her despite the previous rejection.

” So tell me, Emma. Will you put me out of this misery and be my bride?” Asher asked again. He noticed the spaced out look she sported and decided to break it after what seemed like a session.

Emma held her peace. Wondering the best way to break out the news of her decision. After a second, Emma decided to use the chicken way out.

Without a word, she got up and left the table, headed back inside without as little of a second glance behind. An act she knew wasn’t the best and might come with daring consequences but the deed had been done.

Asher remained on the seat. Staring at a now empty chair like one waiting for an answer. Ten minutes passed with a gush of natural breeze and he immediately understood the message.Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.

He’d been left outside and in the cold in his pursuit for a solution. Despite the many women groveling at his feet, hoping to get a taste and opportunity to be his wife, he’d been subjected to doing something this humiliating.

And for what? Only to have him experience such a level of insolence. And from a bloody woman! He’d bared himself and as expected, was kicked to the curb without as little as an answer.

The funny thing was despite the situation, he didn’t resent her. He didn’t even struggle to understand her. Having gone through such extreme experiences, it was only natural to be a lot more reserved on everything. Including his little sob story.

A story that wouldn’t exist if his father had died without making overly stupid decisions in an attempt to sabotage him. Asher picked up his unfinished wine glass and emptied its contents.

He was gradually losing control. He felt his nerves react to the brooding anger boiling within him. It was only a matter of time before he threw off his glass cup.

Yes. He shattered his wine glass.

Following that, Asher overthrew the dinner table; Sending series of perfectly cooked food and expensive utensils down to the ground. And that without the tiniest bit of remorse.

His frustrations were poured into the poor set up before him. By the time he was done, he broke into a sweat and his palm dripped of blood.

Of blood and salty water!

His shirt was soaked and cleaved to his skin. He looked like he’d been lifting weights the whole time with how heavily he was breathing, trying to control his anger.

Asher walked out of the destroyed and dark dinner spot and headed for the main house. He needed a shower and some medical care. The latter took the backseat of his attention. Matter-of-fact, he needed a drink.

He needed to drown the pang and ache he felt. Emotions and feelings never helped him achieve anything. The only thing he needed was a clear mind and sharp instinct.

Tomorrow, he was going to face his demons. He was the devil afterall.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Adams, having seen Emma scurry into the building, watched Asher wreak havoc on the assemble she’d arranged for the meeting.

Without a word, she knew things didn’t end on a good note. She sighed, thinking of how unfortunately things turned out to be. She had high hopes for Asher and Emma, a duo she couldn’t help but deem compatible. She was rarely ever wrong but upon watching everything unfold, she wondered if her discerning spirit had lost its touch as she advanced in age.

After watching Emma find her way into her quarters, covered by a black tux which undoubtedly belonged to Asher, for the first time, she prayed to the heaven’s that it wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be, not when they were starting out.

It seemed like he heard her absurd prayers because at that moment, Asher halted and broke into an odd laugh. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen it happen, having grown accustomed to his weird ways.

Asher was finally out of her sight, having fully entered his house. He headed straight for his room, ignoring everyone and everything on his way there. Upon arrival, he felt a tad bit lighter and a thought came to his mind.

A thought he’d brushed off for the longest time. Resolving to do it, he speed dialed Mrs Adams,

” Make sure Ms. Emma is properly taken care of. Provide everything she needs for a comfortable stay.” He ordered, hanging up after receiving an affirmative response.

Having done that, he carelessly dumped his phone and made way into the shower. After a much needed bath, he headed right for the cabinet in his room. Taking out from his stash of wine and drinking directly from the bottle.

Soon enough he was drunk but without sleep. He always had a high tolerance for alcohol and sometimes, it was more of a disadvantage than an advantage.

Meanwhile, Emma was in her room, lying upward and wide awake. Ever since her dramatic exit from the supposed dinner, she couldn’t find peace.

She twisted and turned in bed, half expecting Mr. Braxton’s to walk in and send her out. Truth be told, having known the sort of pressure he was under, she wouldn’t be offended if she was thrown out of the house at the moment. Waiting till dawn was kindness, one she didn’t deserve.

Knowing she has lost every right to remain in the house, she immediately dived into deep thoughts of her next step. When she inevitably gets thrown out of the house, where does she head to?

The night was a long restless one for the duo who simultaneously pondered over the same thing. Unknown to them, they wondered the same question, uncertain of their near future.

Having exhausted every option, what’s next?


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