With more enemies lining up to kill him than he can count, a playboy billionaire must hire the only woman capable of keeping him alive, even if she hates his guts.
Gabriel Gerard's life is full of gorgeous women, expensive cars, and infinite wealth...
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Gabriel found two burly security guards strapped with AK-47s waiting outside his penthouse door. They were a head taller than him, taking up most of the doorway with dark sunglasses hiding their eyes. They made no move to get out of his way as he approached.
"Evening, gentlemen," he said. "Will you be so kind as to let me into my apartment?"
"This is no longer your apartment, Mr. Gabriel Gerard," one responded as if he were programmed. "It is the residence of Mr. Asher Gerard, sir."
"He is kicking me out of my apartment?" Gabriel didn't know why he was surprised anymore.
"The apartment is property of Gerard International Group, sir, which is owned by Mr. Asher Gerard." Another robotic reply.
"I'm well aware of that, sir." Gabriel struggled to remain calm.
"Mr. Asher Gerard has moved your things to the apartment one floor down."
"How kind of him." Spells to launch them out of his way flew through Gabriel's mind, but he knew that Asher would have the handprint and retina scanner security changed. Running his hand over his face, Gabriel retreated to the elevator pressing the button for the twenty-ninth floor. He silently prayed that Asher wouldn't find the secret room. He didn't need his dark knight brother to have access to all of his spell books and potions. The elevator opened to a dimly lit floor that lacked the marble and gold accents of the penthouse level. There were three apartments, and none of them looked inhabited. He went to the one directly under Asher's knowing that his brother would love having Gabriel below him. Placing his hand on the pad and leaning in to let his eye get scanned, the system let out a quiet beep and his new digs awaited.
The apartment was brand-new but made in replica of the pre-war World War II apartments that hadn't survived the third world war attacks. The ceilings were ten feet, the floor was hardwood, and the crown moldings were exquisite. His modern leather and glass furniture, however artfully arranged, looked ridiculous. Lights from the street cast a depressing grey glow through the vast picture windows. Someone had even left a bottle of scotch and a glass on the coffee table as if it were a designer showcase.
Gabriel didn't bother with the light and let his cloakfall to the floor. He stripped his dirty shirt and pants from his body. Hisshoulder was already healed leaving only a tiny pink scar and a lot ofhumiliation as a reminder. All he wanted was a hot shower and to sleep hopefullywithout any nightmares. He would think about what to do about Asher in themorning. He removed his socks and, having no clue where the laundry room was,left them on the floor. Walking down the hallway to what he presumed was the masterbedroom, he went to remove his boxers and froze.
