He settled in his seat, scanning me over. “And going to the West Wing?”
“I hoped I’d find answers there,” I said, shocked my voice remained steady. My throat was bone dry, and when I swallowed, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I would kill for water. “I’ve been in the dark from the moment I stepped foot in here.”
“And what illumination did you find?” he asked.
My shoulders tensed. His calmness unsettled me. I’d been prepared for him to roar at me, to call security to drag me to the Pits. Instead, we were having a direct conversation. And I was as sure of his aim now as I had been when I’d first arrived here.
“Truthfully, very little. I saw the massive computer screen you have tucked away in there, and some old books, but I barely explored. Thorin…that’s your rival, right? He owns the other casino?”
Cillian’s expression darkened. “Thorin Glass is one of the most despicable people in the entirety of Westia.”
“I caught as much,” I said, a shiver rolling through me. “Thank you again.”
“He views you as mine,” Cillian said, his voice low and husky. “Therefore, he will stop at nothing to obtain you.”
The way he’d said “mine” curled around me and squeezed tight. While Cillian meant it to mean a possession, the rasp in his tone held a fierceness that…I didn’t hate. After experiencing his protection out there, how he’d swept to my defense and scared away Thorin and his cronies, I couldn’t help but see him a bit differently.
All the wildness about him was terrifying, but directed in my defense? My pulse raced in a way it hadn’t for quite a long time.
The quiet settled between us again, but one question burned stronger than anything else.
“So, what now?”
Cillian arched an eyebrow. “Now you get some rest, because you’ll be up early tomorrow. We’ve got a long day of meetings.”
Wait, what?
“But what about repercussions?” I asked, regretting the moment the words left me. Why had I mentioned anything?
A slight smirk lifted his lips. “Seems to me you’re wanting punishment.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I shifted in the seat and glanced away. “Just needed to clarify.”
“Mm,” Cillian responded, rising from his seat. “Are you planning on running away again?”
After what I’d encountered out there, knowing Thorin and others might have a vendetta against me, I’d come to a decision on that as well. Like it or not, my life had changed completely the day I stepped into the Spires, when I’d agreed to take my father’s place.
“No,” I said. “I’m not.”
Cillian skimmed his claws along the surface of the table before meeting my eyes, a light scratching noise echoing there. “Good.”
With that, he turned and walked out of the room.
I sagged in the seat, the weight of everything that had happened today crashing over me. My feet became cement blocks, my mind slowing to a crawl in the wake of everything I’d been bombarded with. My whole body ached, and the first thing I needed to do when I got up was grab some water, but for a moment, I just stayed here at the table.
My perception had been tossed on its head today. When I’d come here, I’d been sure Cillian Ashmore was pure evil—that the CEO of the Spires was every whispered rumor I’d read. However, the experience of witnessing him today in contrast to Thorin allowed me to peer behind the veil. Cillian held multitudes behind the curt responses, the glowers, and the snarls.
Somehow, in some way, he’d managed to spark my curiosity.
And that was a deadly thing.
Chapter 13
“Come on, Jailbreak.” Amelia’s voice rang through the room.
I’d just emerged from the bathroom in nothing but a towel, and she stood in the open doorway, waiting for me.
“Cillian’s summoned you for breakfast,” she said. “I wouldn’t keep him waiting. Not after yesterday.” Amusement danced in her eyes. I swallowed a gulp of relief. I’d thought for sure Amelia would hate me after I’d not only violated her order to avoid the West Wing, but had also tried to escape. And clearly, she already knew about it.
