Maybe it was just me being possessive of who would be the one to ruin Sarah Carpenter, in a weird way. Maybe I still, despite pulling her all the way out to New York City, didn’t know what I wanted to do. Maybe I just hated the Morrils more than I hated Sarah—which was really saying something, considering one was only a threat and one had ruined my life years before.
But it didn’t really matter what, either way.
We were here at the gala. Leo knew well enough not to fuck with me. Sarah was in my grasp, at times confused but ultimately along for whatever I chose to do to her.
It was time to let the night unfold and see what would become of it.
12
SARAH
Ihad never felt so cared for by Cassius as in the moment with the other billionaire.
I had no idea if he even knew he was doing it. Certainly, I am sure he recognized that he didn’t like that man kissing my hand. It didn’t take a psychologist to see the other billionaire wasn’t doing it because he was attracted to me, but because he knew it would piss off Cassius.
But the way Cassius reacted made it very, very clear that if anyone fucked with me, he would destroy them. And while I had no interest in violence or a return to the world the Black Reapers and King’s Men had created, there was something alluring about knowing your date—which, I had to be honest, Cassius was—would doanythingto protect you. I could not imagine it coming to that, but it was nice to know what Cassius would do.
So, of course, as soon as that guy left, Cassius had to return to his icy self.
The conflict within him had been something that was somewhat apparent beforehand, but now, seeing that encounter up close, it brought everything to the forefront for me.
Cassius didn’t know whether to destroy or love me.
Frankly, I didn’t know whether to let him love me or to escape this chaos before it destroyed me.
Just as terrifying was that both outcomes seemed equally possible. Love was not something that seemed worth leaving to chance, and yet the direction this dynamic—not yet a relationship, but something more than two old acquaintances by now—would take might as well be a coin flip.
Something had to change. One of us had to drop our guard, one of us had to invite the other in just a little further. Not quite past the point of no return, but past the point of plausible deniability.
And by one of us, I knew I meant me. Because Cassius could play the long game far longer than I could. He could do this plausible-deniability-yet-romantic-hints game for weeks, months, maybe even years if he felt so desired to.
I could not.
And so, while I put on a pretty face for the New York gala, while I smiled and answered questions and held my own, strangely, for something that had so crippled me hours ago, it barely registered as something to matter.
I was far more curious about what would happen when we got back to our penthouse, when it was just the two of us in a land three time zones removed from our respective homes. I told myself I would do something to move things forward; I would take the initiative in that regard.
But after that, I might as well have called “heads” on the flip of a coin to determine what would happen next.
The chill of the New York City night was far greater than on the coldest night Las Vegas or Phoenix would ever have. On the onehand, the chill made all but the hardiest of New Yorkers eager to head inside.
On the other—or maybe in tandem—the cold brought people together. Even strangers found themselves huddling close to each other, if not in direct contact, then closer than they would have otherwise. This wasn’t a thought that I hoped brought Cassius to me, as I still had my reservations about what he might do.
But as I stood on the balcony of the penthouse and heard the footsteps of the billionaire, I was not ignorant to how this was just one more match, one more flick of fire that might cause our relationship to erupt in flames.
Flames of passion or flames of destruction… who knew?
Cassius stood behind me by about a foot and a half, close enough to reach out and touch me, yet not so close as to press into me. It was like he was silently waiting for me to say whatever I wanted to say; like I said, the man knew how to play the long game well enough.
“You were quite the force with Leo,” I said.
“I do not appreciate when others try to take what is mine.”
That got me to turn around and face him. Expecting a cold, hardened face, I instead was surprised to see a small hint of a smile. It wasn’t warm enough to make me feel I was inside his inner walls, but it was enough to provoke my curiosity.
“Mine?” I said, well aware of what he meant.
He paused briefly.
