Marked By Obsession (Empire of Possession #1)

Chapter 1

CAIN

There’s nothing better than watching someone who thinks they are free, but in actuality is caught up in a web of their own making.

I knew this because I had been that person once.

Not for long, maybe a handful of months in my twenties, when I still believed that competence alone made me invincible.

Before I understood that the truly dangerous forces in any room are never the ones making noise.

They are the ones taking notes and keeping score.

It was what I was doing as soon as I walked into this room and my eyes finally landed on her in person.

The photos and information that I’d been sent by Declan and his team didn’t do her justice, but the years of effort that we’d all put into this operation were worth it based on this moment coming to fruition.

It was as if she was poetry in motion and I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

Nothing I’d done was by accident and it was finally time for us to be introduced to each other in real life.

I watched Sutton Prescott from across the ballroom, tracking her every breath and move.

She had a way of tilting her head when she listened to someone speak that told me she was actually taking in what was being said versus what the majority of these assholes would do in a similar position.

Most people nodded along, half-assed paying attention.

They pretended in the same way they listened to a quarterly earnings call they could give two shits about.

It was all performative attention unless you were telling them something that they could hold over you to get what they wanted.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that Sutton was building something in her head while you talked. I was willing to bet she was triangulating your position relative to hers and everyone else in the room, filing it all away until it would become relevant to something she needed to accomplish.

I admired it because it was a well-constructed trap that had served her well throughout her career. But I had built better ones. Didn’t mean that I couldn’t appreciate the effort.

My gaze followed Sutton as she made her way toward Martin Rivers.

Interesting choice. Rivers had been on my board for three years now, always playing the role of moral compass, as if corporations ever had such a thing.

The slight tremor in his hand was more pronounced tonight as he accepted a flute of champagne from a passing server.

Stress, perhaps. I also wouldn’t be surprised if it was guilt.

D.C. was the only city where strangers led with what you did rather than who you were. It was as if a title was introduction enough. I adjusted my Fabergé cufflinks and returned my gaze to the room. The ones who mattered already knew my name.

“Mr. Ashcroft,” came a voice at my elbow. Dana Liu, a relentless journalist who’d been sniffing around my subsidiaries for months, if not years, and now she was standing within feet of me. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Ms. Liu,” I acknowledged without turning my head, still tracking Sutton’s movements. “Still chasing phantoms that don’t exist?”

“Those phantoms have a way of materializing into fraud investigations,” she replied, following my line of sight. “I see you’ve noticed Sutton Prescott. Interesting. Are you two acquainted?”

“Our paths have crossed,” I tossed back neutrally, offering nothing more. Because frankly, it was none of her business. She didn’t need to know that every time my eyes landed on Sutton, the only word running through my mind was mine.

I glanced over at Dana and noticed that hungry look journalists get when they think they’re onto something significant. I’d seen it countless times before and had never thought it was anything more than amateur theatrics that showcased their intentions from miles away.

“I’ve been looking into Ashcroft Group’s recent acquisition patterns,” she continued, her voice dropping slightly. “There are some fascinating irregularities in the timing of their purchases.”

Ashcroft Group existed in the space between industries like defense, finance, consulting, technology, but never fully belonging to any of them.

On paper it was a holding company. In practice it was whatever I needed it to be.

Fifteen subsidiaries, six continents, and a board that had learned not to ask questions I hadn’t already answered.

I finally turned to face her, allowing a thin smile that dared her to cross me. “The market is full of patterns, Ms. Liu. Finding meaning in them is often more about the observer than the observed.”

She didn’t flinch so I’d give her half a point for that.

“I have financial records, sourced communications, and three former Ashcroft Group employees willing to go on record.” She held my gaze with the particular confidence of someone who had rehearsed this moment.

“Insider trading and at least two instances of direct legislative influence. I’m giving you the chance to comment before it publishes. ”

I laughed, because predictable people always thought they were the first to find something. “You know what they say about coincidences in our line of work.”

“That they don’t exist?” Her eyes narrowed behind her glasses.

“That they make excellent headlines for those who can’t prove causation.” I took a slow sip of my whisky, savoring the brief flash of irritation across her face more than the drink itself. “Print whatever you’d like. My lawyers have better things to do, but they’ll make time.”

I watched her expression shift, but I didn’t give away the fact that I saw the subtle transition from confidence to uncertainty. I’d seen it a thousand times before and I can never get enough of the moment when someone realizes they are standing on quicksand rather than solid ground.

“Your lawyers.” She adjusted her glasses, a nervous tell, I’m sure. “They’re quite busy these days, aren’t they? Especially with the scrutiny around your European operations.”

A good attempt at recovery, but I was still bored.

“Any type of scrutiny is the cost of doing business across borders,” I said in return. “But I suspect you know that already.”

Dana paused, I assume to weigh her options. The hesitation told me everything I needed to know about the actual weight behind the words she was throwing around.

“I’d hoped for a more substantive conversation,” she finally said.

“Most people do.” I glanced at my watch because at this point, she was wasting my time. “If you’ll excuse me.”

I moved away before she could respond, the slight burn of satisfaction warming my chest. I circled the room before making my way toward Sutton and Martin.

The crowd parted for me without conscious thought and I couldn’t help but smirk.

Power wasn’t just about what you could do at the snap of your fingers; it was about the space you occupied and how others yielded to it.

As I approached, Martin spotted me first. The tremor in his hand intensified slightly as he set down his champagne flute. Sutton’s back was to me, her posture straight and attentive as she listened to whatever he was saying. I caught the tail end of his sentence.

“—can’t afford another misstep.”

“Good evening,” I said, enjoying the way Sutton’s shoulders moved toward her ears at the sound of my voice. She turned slowly and the first thing I noticed was how alert her eyes were. Good. I glanced at Martin, who nodded stiffly.

“Mr. Ashcroft,” Sutton said and I noticed that her tone was neither warm nor cold. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Didn’t you?” I smiled. “I find that hard to believe.”

Martin cleared his throat. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to speak with Senator James before he leaves.” A decent excuse that I knew was bullshit, but I allowed it with a slight nod. The man practically fled, leaving Sutton and me in our own private battlefield surrounded by Washington’s elite.

“Martin seems nervous tonight,” I observed.

Sutton’s brown eyes studied me. “He takes his responsibilities seriously. But you would know that well, wouldn’t you?”

“That I do.” I gestured to a server who immediately approached us with a tray of drinks. “Champagne?”

“No, thank you,” she replied. “I prefer to keep a clear head tonight.”

“A wise choice,” I said. “What are you watching this evening?”

“You. I need to keep an eye on you.”

Her gaze didn’t shift at all as she said the words. I had to admit to myself that I admired that.

“Is that a professional assessment or a personal one?” I asked, moving slightly closer. This could get a whole lot more interesting.

“Professional, of course,” Sutton said, but something in her eyes told me that wasn’t the complete truth.

“Then I’m flattered to have captured your professional attention,” I replied, scanning the room before turning my complete and undivided attention back to her. “Though I suspect your interest extends beyond simple observation.”

She shifted her weight slightly in her stilettos. “Ashcroft Group’s recent activities warrant attention.”

I leaned in closer to her and lowered my voice. “And yet, here we are, making small talk at a fundraiser instead of across a conference table. One might think you’re avoiding a direct confrontation.”

“Or one might think I’m gathering information for my clients that are in the same sphere as you,” she countered smoothly. “Did you ever think about that, Mr. Ashcroft?”

Her words sparked something in me that I couldn’t quite describe. A challenge? Maybe. Or just the thrill of engaging with a worthy opponent. I hadn’t expected her to be so direct. Most people dance around me for various reasons, but she had no issue going toe-to-toe with me.

“An interesting strategy,” I said, taking another sip of my whisky. “I look forward to seeing more.”

Sutton held my gaze before glancing away quickly as a light blush appeared on her cheeks. Even more interesting. “I should rejoin my colleagues,” she said, nodding at a group across the room. “Good evening, Mr. Ashcroft.”

“Cain,” I corrected her. “I think we’re beyond formalities.” Especially given how all of this was going to go in the very near future.

A hint of amusement flickered across her face. “Good evening, Cain,” she said, before turning and walking away.

I watched her walk away from me for what I knew would be one of the last times. Her confident stride, the way she weaved in and out of a crowd, careful to not bump into anyone, was smooth. Then again, I expected nothing less than that from Sutton Prescott.

A server passed with another tray of drinks.

I declined with a subtle shake of my head, but my attention didn’t deviate from Sutton as she rejoined her coworkers.

It would have been relatively easy for Sutton to blend in with the crowd as she walked away from me.

Her black pants suit and stilettos should have made it easy, but there was nothing, and I mean nothing, that could have shifted my attention away from her.

I drained the rest of my whisky and put the glass down on the nearest surface. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see someone attempting to make their way to me, but they weren’t worth my time.

My work here was done, but the game had just begun.