“You will find I don’t let matters go so easily.”
Cassius smirked, then turned. He headed to a door leading to the inside before he glanced over his shoulder, just enough to ensure I would be heard.
“You are dismissed, Sarah,” he said. “My assistant will meet you at the elevator and ensure you get home safely.”
I took one last gulp of my wine, aware there was no room for argument. It was damn good wine, and my body felt loose and wobbly. Those two facts had nothing to do with each other.
I made my way to the elevator. Cassius watched every step I took.
I had a feeling that even when I would be out of his literal sight, I wasn’t going to be let go of his grasp anytime soon.
9
CASSIUS
Who the fuck are you, Sarah Carpenter?
The thought was cold, but it was not meant cruelly or even with suspicion. For most people, it would’ve been confusion, but I did not let myself stay in a confused state for more than a moment. Instead, it was almost admiration.
This was not the girl I had foolishly fallen in love with years before, who had shattered my heart with the death of Virgil. This was not even the artist who had shown up to Las Vegas mere days before, hoping for a lucky break.
This was someone else; a woman who was not afraid to stand up to me, a woman who might have been afraid of confronting her own past but was not afraid of confronting the presence of others. Who could blame her, really? I wouldn’t pretend that I enjoyed relishing in the past. It was far more enjoyable and thrilling to try to crack someone in the present.
To break.
To break?
Or crack?
Two different outcomes along the spectrum of end goals, but with two very different pathways. One might make Sarah mine. One might make Sarah gone forever.
It was telling that despite what I may have felt upon seeing “Sasha Carter” or upon seeing her in the flesh atAllure,I no longer knew which one I wanted.
I could figure this out on my own, sure. But why the fuck would I do that when I had some of the best help no amount of money could buy?
The Next Night
I stood back on the rooftop of my penthouse, at the same table with the same seating arrangement as mere days before. Dante, Adrian, and Lucas once more were around me, cigars and glasses of wine in their hands. For all of us, business was doing even better than we expected, and all of us should have had reason to kick back, relax, and unwind.
But billionaires didn’t fucking do that. We never had time to relax. Relaxing was how weakness crept in.
Still, a good cigar and good company never hurt anyone. Especially when said company included business partners and some of the few men in the world who would shoot it straight to you.
“So, Cassius,” Dante said. “Your little prize. How’s that going? Have you broken her yet?”
To break?
Or crack?
“I’m taking my time with her,” I said as I took a sip of the wine. “I need to make sure she’s well set up before shattering her. You know how it is. What fun is it to break something that can see it coming?”
“You’re taking longer than I would have thought,” Dante said. “She did kill Virgil.”
“As if I needed the reminder,” I growled before Adrian or Lucas could say anything else. “Patience, Dante. Not every problem can be solved by brute force.”
Dante looked like he wanted to say something, but my glare kept his mouth shut. He was probably the loosest tongue of us all; that didn’t mean anyone would ever mistake him for a Black Reaper, much less a Fallen Saint or some other rogue MC, but of the four of us, he was easily the most likely to make a slip of a statement.
“I will handle it in the timeline I feel is appropriate,” I said.
