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The car was already waiting at the curb when I stepped out of the building. Declan’s man held the door, and I slid into the back seat without a word. The city blurred past the tinted windows as we pulled into traffic, and I found my thoughts drifting back to the penthouse despite my best efforts to keep them on Vincent.

I was still annoyed there hadn’t been any movement toward reconciling with Sutton. Yes, I understood why we were in this stalemate, but it didn’t lessen any of the irritation I felt. I’d given her some space to get used to being in her new environment, but that was the extent of my patience for distance. She could keep her silence, but I had no intention of letting it harden into something permanent.

The thought sat uncomfortably with me as the car wove through Manhattan’s evening traffic. I’d spent years acquiring things and people without an ounce of difficulty walking away if the situation called for it. Sutton was the first variable I refused to release, and I was self-aware enough to recognize how much that complicated my judgment. I simply chose not to dwell on it because it wasn’t something that needed to be unpacked right now.

I did what I needed to do to keep my thoughts on Vincent as my car slowed because we’d arrived at our destination. The Carnal Solstice occupied a building that gave away nothing from the street. No signage, no line, no indication of what happened behind the unmarked door save for a single brass plate that meant nothing to anyone who hadn’t already been told what it meant and that was the whole point. Delphine had built her empire on the principle that the truly powerful didn’t need a name on the door. They just needed to know it was there, and that everything would be kept quiet as long as you didn’t piss her off.

The driver pulled up to the curb and I stepped out before he could circle around to open my door. I walked up to the unmarked door and the security guard didn’t even bother asking me for an invitation or an ID. He recognized me even though it had been a while since I’d been here, but it was exactly how Delphine preferred. The door opened and I stepped inside the world that people paid tens of thousands of dollars to disappear and indulge in their deepest, darkest fantasies for a few hours.

The interior was all dark wood and low lights, the kind of lighting that flattered everyone. Sensual music could be heard, helping to create the atmosphere that was needed for this type of environment. The tune was loud enough to be heard, but soft enough that you could easily have a conversation with someone but also made it sure that a stranger several feet away would have a hard time making out what was being said. Couples, throuples, and more occupied various alcoves throughout the space, some engaged in conversations while others were partaking in exploring each other in more ways than one.

Several years ago, I might have appreciated some of the displays here, but tonight my focus was on the one woman who was currently trapped in my penthouse and the man who decided to fuck around with one of my future acquisitions.

A hostess approached me and said, “Mr. Ashcroft. Your party is waiting in the Verdant Room. Right this way.”

I followed her down a hallway that grew quieter with each step as we walked away from the speakers in the main area. The private rooms at The Carnal Solstice were soundproofed, secured, and swept regularly for devices. This one would be more a private room for conversation and business not of the sexual kind.

It was why I’d agreed to meet here rather than dragging Vincent somewhere I controlled. Neutral ground meant neither of us could pretend the other had set a trap. It also meant that whatever happened inside those walls stayed there, which suited me more than I’d cared to admit when Declan suggested it.

The hostess stopped at a door near the end of the hallway and gestured toward it without touching the handle. I dismissed her with a nod and let myself in without bothering to knock.

Vincent sat in a leather armchair near the back of the room with one ankle crossed over his knee and a glass of something amber resting against the armrest. He hadn’t aged so much as calcified. The same sharp features, the same expensive haircut, the same expression of a man who believed he was always the cleverest person in any room he entered. He didn’t stand when I came in. That, too, was deliberate, but I didn’t mind.

“Cain.” He lifted the glass an inch in greeting. “You look well. Considering.”

I closed the door behind me and let the silence do its work for a moment before I answered. A low table was placed between the two chairs. I did not bother sitting down.

“Vincent.” I kept my voice even. “You moved eight figures out of subsidiary accounts I’m about to own. You did it through three shells you weren’t careful enough to hide. And you booked a suite under a name I’ve known for years.” I tilted my head. “Either you’ve gotten sloppy, or you wanted to be found.”

“Can’t it be both?” He smiled and took a sip. “I find a little visibility goes a long way these days. People forget you exist if you stay too quiet.”

“People forget you exist for other reasons.”

He held the smile, but something flickered behind his eyes. He recovered quickly enough. He set the glass down on the armrest and laced his fingers together.

“Let’s not pretend, Cain. You came here because you have questions. I came here because I have answers, and answers are worth something.” He spread his hands as if to show he meant no harm. “That’s how this works. You know that better than anyone.”

I moved to the chair across from him but still didn’t sit. I rested one hand on the back of it and looked down at him. “The first transfer moved while I was traveling. The timing was clean and far too convenient for a man who circles deals and hopes for scraps. Why did you do it then? And don’t say it was a coincidence.”

“Coincidence is a poor man’s word for bad luck. I don’t believe in it either.” He uncrossed his ankle and recrossed it the other way, settling deeper into the chair. “I moved when I moved because the window was open. You weren’t watching the way you usually watch. A man like you doesn’t leave the city for nothing, Cain. And you don’t leave it the way you left it.”

“The way I left it,” I repeated.

“Quietly and for all intents and purposes, it seems to have been for personal reasons.” He picked the glass back up, turned it in the light. “According to word on the street, there was no board meeting waiting on the other end. No press. No deal that anyone could name. You went somewhere and you came back with something.” He smiled again, slower this time. “Or someone. I’m just observant. You taught me that, in a roundabout way.”

I kept my hand on the back of the chair. “Be specific about what you think you observed.”

“Your trip to Delaware,” he said. “A private airfield because you know it’s not hard to track your plane. And when it came back, it wasn’t empty.”

I didn’t move. I’d learned long ago that the man who reacts first surrenders something he can’t get back. But inside, something cold and precise clicked into place. Declan had said it himself: this stayed within the inner circle only. If Vincent knew this much, then this hadn’t stayed inside the Ashcroft Group at all. It had reached the one thing I’d brought home and locked behind a fingerprint.

“You’re guessing,” I said.

“Am I?” He swirled the tumbler causing the amber liquid to move along the sides. “You’re a careful man, Cain. Always have been. But careful men get careless about exactly one thing, and it’s never business. Business is where you’re strongest. No, the carelessness shows up somewhere else entirely.” He smiled. “It shows up when a man finally has something he can’t afford to lose.”

11

CAIN