Asher woke up at noon the next day.
He stared down at his wristwatch in horror. He didn't even recall falling asleep in the abandoned stadium.
To be precise, he hadn't. One minute he had been staring up at Dominic Tates, and the next...
He was currently in the next minute.
His eyes scanned the VIP lounge. Tates was nowhere to be seen, but he could swear, he was somewhere watching.
He tried the door. It opened. Asher didn't wait, he ran.
Composure was one thing, Dominic Tates was the other. Whatever he was, he was nothing like Julian Marrick.
And Asher didn't mean that in any good way.
Outside the sublevel, he searched his coat pocket and pulled out his phone.
30 missed calls.
More than half of it was from Emmy. Of course. He had promised to drop by early in the morning on the way to work. She must have been so worried when he didn't show up.
The other half was mostly Rick. A few from George, and even Lyman Creed, the executive board member.
Just a week into his probation period as CEO, precisely on his first business meeting. He had skipped work.
Asher wasn't certain he was doing a very good job at this billionaire thing.
"That blasted ghost." He huffed.
Checking his time once more, Asher recalled the meeting was set for 2pm. He had exactly two hours to change into something presentable and arrive at the venue.
Two hours...he would make it work. He had to.
Asher jogged down the street. He must have looked like a lunatic, jogging under the hot afternoon sun in a custom made suit.
The main road was finally in sight and he quickly hailed a taxi. As it pulled off into the street, he reached for his phone again and opened the news blog.
Unsurprisingly, his face was the first thing that greeted him. With the headline 'Nouveau billionaire, Asher Knox declared missing. Presumed dead. Is wealth enough to overcome the darkness of the mind?'
It had been what? A quarter of a day? And the whole world had jumped to the conclusion that he threw himself off a bridge somewhere, succumbing to pressure.
Being famous wasn't anything it was made out to be.
The taxi pulled up outside his shoebox apartment. Asher could have sworn, the driver kept throwing him glances throughout the ride.
It wouldn't be surprising if the driver recognized him. Asher was all the blogs cared to talk about these days.
He paid the fare and stepped out. Heading straight for his bathroom. He dropped a message to Rick after glancing through his dozen messages in a rush.
And then he showered quickly. Whoever had curated the outfits in his wardrobe had done a good job of pairing them perfectly, down to the shoes.
He picked out yet another black suit, in a sleeker design and got dressed.
For his hair, Asher had never bothered with it. The messy bangs framed his chiseled face perfectly.
Years of hard labour had left him with a permanent tan and a muscular build. Paired with the right clothes and his own version of Julian's billion-dollar smile, Asher looked the part.
In more ways than one.
He headed out. George parked at that exact moment and Rick jumped out, eyes wide and frantic.
"Mr Knox...Asher!" He exclaimed. "Everyone is going crazy searching for you. Reporters are flooding the company building. Mr Creed is calling for a review of succession."
Asher winced. It was too soon to be in the papers for the wrong reasons.
"Has the client been in touch?" He asked.
"Not yet. I doubt they haven't seen the blogs by now. But there have been no changes on their end."
"Then the meeting will proceed as planned. Ignore Creed."
Rick was more than willing to comply. He handed Asher a file. "I prepared a draft of everything you need to know, say or do. It's your first official business meeting...it might be a little difficult to adjust."
Asher didn't take it. "I appreciate the thought. But I can handle myself. And I'm already familiar with the details of this client and the expected partnership."
Rick nodded, putting the file away.
"Where did you..." He began, but trailed off when he caught Asher's narrowed eyes through the rearview mirror.
"That doesn't matter, of course. As long as you're back, it's all fine."
The drive continued in silence. It may have been the most inappropriate time, but Asher's curiosity was overwhelming and he found himself looking up Dominic Tates.
The news headlines flashed almost immediately. He read through them, his eyes going wide at the information that greeted him.
Dominic Tates. His second client.
The media popularly referred to him with a nickname. Just as Julian was tagged 'The Tyrant of Towers', Dominic Tates had an even more infamous title.
"The Demolition King?"
Rick glanced over. Asher shook his head slightly, putting the phone away as he processed the information he had just taken.
Dominic Tates. Popularly known as 'The Demolition King.'
He earned his fame, title and wealth by razing down old, conservative communities, forests and wildlife, to build malls.
There were more than a dozen articles detailing protests held against him by people who had lost their homes due to his demolition craze.
There were dozens of police cases filed against him, including but not limited to assault and arson.
It made sense now.
Unlike Julian Marrick, a reasonably conceited billionaire who had trusted the wrong man and was murdered for it.
Dominic Tates was a different game entirely. He was infamously a menace, known for his cruelty and money-grubbing nature up to the moment of his death.
A certified scumbag.
This client of his...he was as much a terror in life as he was as a vengeful ghost haunting the abandoned stadium.
The realization hit Asher with a cold chill.
How was he to convince a man who had demolished orphanages and old people's homes to build malls, to sign his soul contract and entrust him with his grievances?
And more importantly, how was he to accomplish that without ending up as the next hit-and-run victim, impaled by a sign post?