"You're here." He leans back in his chair, studying me with that unnerving intensity. "You haven't been here in six months. You chose the Raiders. Chose—" He pauses. "Xavier. So either something went catastrophically wrong, or you're here to tell me you're getting married. And you don't look like someone who's getting married."
Despite everything, I almost laugh. "No. Not getting married."
"Then what?"
I open my mouth to deflect, to make up some excuse about why I'm here that isn't the truth. But I'm so tired of lying. So tired of carrying this alone.
"I killed someone," I say. "Six months ago. Marcus King. Xavier's brother."
I watch his face for a reaction—shock, concern, anything. But Cast just nods slowly, like I've confirmed something he already suspected. "How?"
"Pipe to the head. He cornered me in an alley. Was going to—" I stop. Can't finish that sentence. "I defended myself."
"Good." No hesitation. No judgment. Just simple approval. "He deserved it."
"Xavier doesn't think so."
"Xavier found out?"
"A few months ago. In front of the entire club." I look down at my hands. "Johnson called a meeting. Had evidence—photos, witnesses. Exposed everything. And I—I told the truth. Admitted it."
"And Xavier?"
"Kicked me out. Told me to get out of his life." My voice cracks despite my best efforts. "Called me a liar. Said everything we had was built on lies."
Cast is quiet for a moment. "Were you? Lying?"
"I didn't tell him. For weeks after I remembered, I didn't tell him." The guilt sits heavy on my tongue. "I was scared. Scared of exactly what happened. So I kept it secret and let him fall in love with a version of me that wasn't carrying his brother's blood on her hands."
"You were raised to be an assassin," Cast says matter-of-factly. "Trained to kill without hesitation, without remorse. This is what we do, Valentina. This is what we are."
"But I've never cared before." The words come out raw. "Everyone I've killed—and there have been plenty—I never cared. Never lost sleep over it. They were targets, problems to solve, obstacles to remove." I look up at him. "But Xavier cares. He wanted revenge for Marcus. Wanted to be the one to make the Vipers pay. And I stole that from him. I killed his brother and then I lied about it and he'll never forgive me for either."
Cast stands, and for a second I think he's dismissing me, ending the conversation because emotional confessions aren't his style. But instead he comes around the desk, and before I can process what's happening, he's pulling me to my feet and into his chest.
We've never hugged. Not once in all the years we’ve found out that he’s my cold and calculating brother. Physical affection isn't something Cast does. Isn't something either of us do.
But his arms come around me, solid and sure, and I feel something crack open in my chest that I didn't know was sealed. I press my face into his expensive suit and cry—really cry, the kind of crying that's more about release than grief—and he just holds me. Doesn't tell me to stop. Doesn't pull away. Just lets me fall apart against him while his hand comes up to rest on the back of my head.
"I'm sorry," I manage through the tears. "I'm so sorry."
"For what?"
"For being weak. For caring about someone enough that losing them destroys me. For—for being bad at this." I pull back enough to look at him. "You taught me to be stronger than this."
"No." His voice is firm. "I taught you to survive. That's different." His hand comes to my face, thumb brushing away tears with surprising gentleness. "Don't give up on him, Valentina. On any of them."
"They don't want me?—"
"Don't give up on the person who makes you feel alive," he interrupts. "The people who make you feel alive. People like us—" He pauses, and something moves through his expression that might be vulnerability if Cast were capable of such things."We're hollow. Ice where other people have hearts. We kill and we don't feel it. We destroy and we sleep fine." His eyes meet mine. "We need people we love. Need them to remind us we're still human under all the training."
"You have Willow," I whisper.
"I have Willow. And Vincent. And Damien. My best friends—I love them. Would die for them. Would kill for them." His hand drops from my face. "But I need Willow to feel alive. Need her to make me something other than the monster our father created."
The honesty in his voice cracks something else open in me. "I love Zay and Asher," I admit. "With everything I have. They're—they're essential. But Xavier—" I stop. Take a breath. "I feel most like myself with Xavier. Most real. Most—" I can't find the word.
"Alive," Cast finishes.
