Worthy: Cassius and Faith (Club 444 Book 3)

1. Security

Faith

I didn’t look back at the mansion as I hustled down the drive. I didn’t want to think—I was leaving my new friends and Cassius behind, not to mention the money. Ugh, the money. I couldn’t believe I was running away from so much money!

It wasn’t like me to be irresponsible. Since he’d been born, I’d taken care of my brother Lucas. My mother wasn’t a fit parent. I’d made it my mission to protect my brother and succeeded until he’d gotten sick. My mother couldn’t handle the additional responsibilities brought on by his illness, and she’d imploded. Alone at eighteen, I’d struggled to care for him and keep him not only in treatment but off the streets.

I was being selfish by running from Club 444. But being with Cassius last night had undone me. I’d never had feelings like that before, both physically and emotionally. My encounter with the mercurial billionaire had changed me. I was no longer a virgin, no longer innocent to the secrets of pleasure he’d unlocked inside me. But more than that, I was no longer just a caretaker. Cassius had awakened something—someone—inside of me. A young woman filled with passion, longing, and a desire to explore more of life.

That woman wanted to explore those things with Cassius Blackwood. But that was never to be. The billionaire would never be mine.

So I was leaving her behind, too. I didn’t have the bandwidth to worry about my heart. My brother would die if I didn’t take care of him. My life could wait; his couldn’t.

I shoved my circling thoughts to the side and hurried down the drive. Cursing, I realized I’d also left my cell phone with the Madam. What the hell was I going to do? I didn’t dare go back to retrieve it.

Remembering the security guard at the gate, I decided to ask him to call an Uber for me. I’d figure the rest out somehow…

I kept my bag close, shivering in the early morning chill.It had rained overnight, and a mist rose from the lush grounds. I couldn’t escape the mansion fast enough, but the driveway seemed to stretch forever. The Blackwood brothers wanted their private club hidden from the prying eyes of the public, and they’d succeeded.

I was winded by the time I reached the wrought-iron gate. I glimpsed the security guard inside, filling out a crossword puzzle on his phone. “Excuse me,” I said, lifting my voice. “Can you let me out?”

Startled, he whipped his head at me. He was a ginger in his forties, with a crewcut, tattoos on both sides of his burly neck, and a machine gun strapped to his chest.

My palms started to sweat. “Please?” I added.

He shook his head. “What’s your name?” he asked gruffly. “I have to clear it with Management.”

I licked my lips. “My name’s Mia.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Do you have a last name?”

“Um…” I was the worst liar ever.

“She doesn’t need a last name,” boomed a familiar, icy voice from the security post’s intercom. “Let her through.”

The guard jumped to attention. “Yes, Mr. Blackwood. Right away.”

The gate swung open, and I practically sprinted through it.

But a car emerged behind me, large, black, and glossy. Cassius Blackwood scowled at me from behind the driver’s seat.

Oh, fuck.

He pulled up beside me. As he rolled down the window, I saw my reflection; my hair was wild, and last night’s mascara streaked beneath my eyes. I was a mess inside and out.

But, of course, Cassius looked impeccable. He wore his suit from the night before, the onyx-and-diamond cufflinks winking at his wrists. His hair was tousled—probably from me running my hands through it all night—and his peppery stubble was thicker. Still, he managed to look pulled together, ridiculously handsome, and prepared to take on the world. Basically, my exact opposite.

He scowled at me and held up my cell phone. “You forgot something, Faith.”

“T-Thanks.” I reached for it, but he pulled it back.

“Get in.”

I swallowed hard. “I was—I was just about to head back to Boston. Sir,” I added hastily as a matter of habit.

His brow furrowed. “Were you planning on walking there?”

“No. Sir.” I straightened my shoulders.

“So what, exactly, was the plan?”

I frowned. “I didn’t have one yet. Sir.”

“Then get in the car. I’ll drive you myself—I have a business matter to attend to in the city, anyway.” He turned and looked straight ahead, waiting for me to obey.

I glanced back at the security guard, who was pretending not to listen. But he still had that gun strapped to his chest.

“What if I say no?” I asked.

Cassius inhaled deeply as if he were trying to gather what remained of his patience. “Then, by all means, walk to Boston.”

I looked down the deserted residential road. It would be one hell of a walk through Rhode Island.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Faith. There are no strings.” Cassius still stared straight ahead. “But I would prefer it if the police didn’t see one of my former employees fleeing on foot at the crack of dawn. It’s not exactly the look we’re going for.”

“Fine.” I slid into the car. Maybe it was better riding with the devil I knew instead of hitchhiking with some devil I didn’t.

“Can I have my phone? Please?” He handed it to me, and I quickly checked my messages. There was nothing from Lucas or the treatment center, which was a good sign.

“Is everything all right with your brother?” Cassius asked.

I gaped at him, surprised that he’d remembered, even more surprised that he’d asked. “Yes, thank you. He’s doing fine… Sir.”

“You don’t have to call me ‘sir’ anymore,” Cassius said.

He maneuvered his behemoth luxury car around the corner and into the prestigious Harbor Crest neighborhood. Hawthorne Drive was loaded with picturesque mansions, each with enormous, rolling lawns. But none compared to 444 Hawthorne, the Blackwoods’private pleasure playground.

“Why not?” I asked.

The billionaire glanced at me. “Because you quit. When I realized you’d left the Master Chamber, I went to your suite and found your note.”

“Oh,” I said lamely.

“What address are you headed to?” Cassius asked, his tone indifferent.

“The treatment center’s down by Dana Farber, on Brookline Avenue.”

He glanced at me, taking in my disheveled appearance. “I’ll take you home first so you can shower and change. Your hair’s a bit… mussed.”

My cheeks heated. “You don’t have to do that, Si—” I caught myself before I said it again. “That’s nice of you, but I’m fine.”

“I can assure you that you’re not. What is your address?’

I squirmed in my seat, feeling miserable. “I’m… I’m actually between places at the moment,” I admitted. “So there’s nowhere to go.”

He sighed; it sounded like a hiss. “I’ll take you to my penthouse. You can shower and change before you see your brother.”

“You don’t have to do that?—”

Cassius waved me off. “I consider it my obligation as your former employer.”

He didn’t say another word for the rest of the ride. A full hour and a half of silence stretched between us. I longed to talk to him, ask him questions, and tell him I was sorry I’d run away after our night together. But I didn’t know what he was thinking, so I didn’t say a word.

And neither did the billionaire.

* * *

After the excruciatingsilence of the ride, I was relieved when the city came into view. Cassius steered down Massachusetts Avenue to Boston’s Back Bay neighborhood, an upscale shopping and business district. He turned onto Newbury Street and parked in front of an impressive building—The Stratum Hotel. I’d heard of it; it was the nicest hotel in Boston. The glass-front building soared up to meet the sky, and a doorman wearing a tuxedo waited at the entrance.

“You live at a hotel?” I asked.

Cassius shrugged. “I own it; I keep the penthouse for myself. They take care of everything for me—it’s easier than a private home. I have several of those as well, just not in Boston.”

“Oh, I see,” I said, even though I didn’t. Who owned multiple private homes and luxury hotels? Who the fuck was this guy?

The doorman opened my door and then bowed. “Good morning, Ms. Kensington.”

I blinked at him. “How did you know my name?”

“It’s my job to recognize our guests.” The man smiled as Cassius joined us, tossing him the keys. “Mr. Blackwood. It’s always a pleasure to see you.”

“Good to see you too, Gage. Is everything prepared?”

Gage’s smile broadened. “Yes, Mr. Blackwood. The concierge has taken care of everything.”

“Excellent.” Cassius turned to me. “Shall we?”

I nodded and followed him inside, wishing I looked less wild. I felt woefully out of place in the fancy hotel. The Stratum’s lobby was immaculate and overwhelming, with marble floors, marble columns, and teak woodwork accents. Cassius’s dress shoes echoed across the stone as my cheap flip-flops click-clacked behind him. A well-dressed couple headed toward us. The woman wore one of those expensive-as-hell cloth skirt suits—Chanel?—and toted an enormous Louis Vuitton bag, her nose stuck in the air. Her lip curled in distaste as she noticed my Old Navy T-shirt and leggings, last night’s mascara still adorning my face.

Cassius must’ve noticed her expression because he hung back and wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

The woman’s eyebrow raised a fraction, and she gave us a smug look as she passed.

Cassius stopped and faced her. “Excuse me, but what are you smirking at?”

If she was surprised that he addressed her, she didn’t let on. “Nothing,” she said, in a tone that indicated it was hardly nothing. “I just didn’t realize The Stratum had gotten so… inclusive.” She eyed me up and down.

“What are you, guests at the hotel?” Cassius asked.

Her male counterpart, who wore a suit and a very stupid-looking cap, puffed his chest out. “Yes, and we’re staying in the luxury suite.”

Cassius grinned at them. “Not anymore, you’re not.” He snapped his fingers, and an employee hustled to us from behind the desk. “Please check these guests out immediately,” Cassius ordered.

“Yes, Mr. Blackwood,” the employee said.

“Excuse me?” The man in the cap asked. “We’re not checking out?—”

“Yes, you most certainly are. I’m Cassius Blackwood, the CEO of Blackwood Enterprises. I own this hotel, and I have a zero-tolerance policy for new-money, arrogant assholes. Nice cap, by the way. See yourselves the fuck out, or we’ll charge you for another night.” He turned to me and then held out his hand. “Darling? Are you ready?”

I nodded, then gratefully took his hand. I couldn’t resist leaning toward the woman as Cassius dragged me away. “I guess the hotel’s not that inclusive, after all,” I whispered.

The woman pressed her lips together into a thin, white line. She looked like smoke was about to pour out of her ears.

Fine with me.

Cassius kept his hand clamped over mine until we reached the elevator, where he released me. He punched in a security code, then coolly appraised me as we rose to the top floor. “What are you doing to me, Faith Elise Kensington?”

“You know my full name?” I blurted out.

“I read the contract.” Cassius crossed his massive arms against his chest.

“I didn’t see your middle name,” I said, a bit wistfully.

“Edward.”

I nodded. “Cassius Edward Blackwood. That sounds about right.”

He arched an eyebrow.

“I mean, it sounds regal,” I explained. “By the way, thanks for that—back in the lobby. That woman looked at me like I had the plague and was infecting her environment.”

“My pleasure,” Cassius said. “I have no tolerance for assholes.”

I briefly wondered what he would make of Darren Payne passing former-platinum-virgin Mia around like a party favor, but I kept my mouth shut. Instead, I realized I should explain my recent behavior, which bordered on asshole-ish. He’d defended me in the lobby, which was chivalrous. I felt I should say something about running out on him. “Listen, I’m sorry about last night…”

The elevator dinged; we’d reached the top floor.

“You don’t owe me an explanation, Faith.” Cassius’s tone turned icy once more. “You made it clear that you wanted to leave. I’d be the last person to make you stay.”

With that, he strode out of the elevator, leaving me feeling bereft and unsure once more.