Chapter 9

The restaurant was usually small and intimate, but it was completely closed for a private event tonight. In addition to the number of burly men who avoided eye contact and guarded the entrance of the restaurant, there was an army of waiters eager to show me to our table. My first reaction wasn't fear as it should have been.

My first reaction was horror at what a waste of money this was. Did we really need the entire restaurant to ourselves? Was Ashlen also planning to use this venue to host a wedding afterward? Why couldn't we have simply met at my apartment? I could have ordered pizza.

My humor quickly turned into fear as I noted a team of muscular men standing guard beside our table, their hands dangled carefully over barely concealed firearms. Ashlen was sitting at the table for a mob boss, with a imposing physique. Yet, strangely, his face spoke of sheepishness upon seeing me.

He stood up and gestured to the open chair.

"I'm sorry for all the company," he said with a light-hearted chuckle. "Please ignore them. They are here for your safety."

I tried not to stare at the men. Their muscles seemed to move like serpents under all that dark fabric. I didn't imagine they would need those formidable arms, not when they were surely armed to the teeth with illegal weapons. The waiter immediately showed up with a bottle of cabernet, the finest from Napa Valley, and filled my glass. Ashlen leaned forward in his chair and placed his elbows on the table to show me how happy he was that I was here. I knew him, even though I didn't know this Lien Evenhell. He was in a good mood, maybe even frisky. I had never seen him so relaxed and in his element.

Amazing. I knew so much about this man, yet so little.

"Drink, Lia." Ashlen inched the glass toward me. "You're safe here. I'll make sure you get home in one piece."

"Who are the Ten Dragons?" I asked, directing the conversation away from whatever sham of marital contentment he was trying to invoke. "Why are they after you?"

"That is a long story," Ashlen replied, motioning to the waiter to bring our first course. It was an amuse-bouche of caviar on top of a cracker. I wished I was relaxed enough to drink because I was never fond of annoyingly expensive miniature food. As Ashlen stared back at me through the candlelight's flickering flames, I saw suspicion growing behind his cheerful expression. Yes, I usually loved a glass of cabernet with my evening meal. The fact that I was refusing his offer communicated to him that I didn't trust him.

His cold blue eyes studied me from under those thick black brows. I had never noticed how sharp his eyes were, how they could stare daggers into my soul with a single glance.

I picked up the glass and took the tiniest of all sips. Ashlen laughed and drew a side glance from his men as they curiously glanced at us to see what was so amusing.

"It's not poisoned, Firefly," Ashlen whispered with an amused smirk on his impeccably handsome face. Ashlen had always been good-looking, in a way that wasn't really evident because he hid his body in oversized, cheap sweatshirts that had been worn down to threads. He slouched constantly and never cared much for doing anything with his hair.

Now, the man sitting before me was still Ashlen, but at the same time, he could not be more different than my husband. He was suave; his clothes were perfectly tailored to show off his perfect shoulders and were tastefully tapered at the waist. His hair was trimmed short but long enough to obscure his eyes mysteriously. When he moved, it was with grace and intent. It was as though he was accustomed to being watched and admired by those who both served and feared him.

Who was this man sitting before me?

Surely not my computer programmer husband. My husband was always clean-shaven, baby-faced, and perpetually sweetly cheerful. This man lounging back in his chair before me looked more like a resting predator. His impressive jawline showed the markings of a stubble. His hands were large, angular, and powerful even when resting on his knee.

If I had been a passerbyer catching a glimpse of him from outside the windowpane, I surely would have thought it was a movie star or a billionaire heir. Or perhaps both.

"Here, let me show you," Ashlen snatched the glass from my hand and took a large gulp. He seductively licked his lips. Briefly, I wondered what it would be like to kiss those lips and taste that cabernet on his tongue. I hated my own body for remembering what it was like to love him before he turned into a heartless criminal. "Perfectly safe, Lia. Now, could you relax and enjoy our meal? I've always wanted to bring you here. I've dreamed of it countless times."

"Then why didn't you?" I asked with hesitation as I started on our next course, a yogurt dotted with orange salmon eggs.

"I couldn't," Ashlen replied and stared longing out the window, which displayed a grand view of the Manhattan skyline. "Not without raising questions I didn't know how to answer. Lia, if you believe nothing else, believe this — I never wanted to lie to you."

"So I am here now," I snarked back. It must have been the cabernet talking. I couldn't believe I was ruffling the feathers of a man with an army of men with firearms at his disposal. "Why did you bring me here? To relive the past? To buy my silence with a fancy meal?"

"I know you are angry with how it ended," Ashlen turned his eyes back to me and laid his hand on the table. Ha, did he think I would hold his hand after all this time? "I left you without an explanation. I had to leave you because I was starting to pull you into my other life, this life."

I sniffed. It was difficult not to let my disdain show. Mob boss he may be, but he was also my ex-husband who abandoned me without any reason or explanation three years ago. Back then, I wondered how he didn't even have the courtesy to leave a post-it note.

"Was everything between us a lie?"

"No," Ashlen stated with a hard edge to his voice. "Our marriage was real to me. I never stopped loving you."