Chapter 2 #3
He let out a quiet scoff beneath his breath before reaching for his whiskey again. The crystal glass paused briefly in his hand as his eyes swept across the three men, lingering on each of them in turn. Whatever amusement they found in the conversation clearly escaped him.
"It's nothing like that."
His shoulders rose in a careless shrug.
"She's just interested in our family’s money and influence."
The certainty in his voice gradually erased the amusement from the room.
"She probably thinks staying close to me will benefit her one day," he continued, absently turning the whiskey glass beneath his fingertips.
"Unfortunately for her, it won't. As long as everything remains in my hands, neither she nor her family will ever get the opportunity to take advantage of what belongs to me. "
There wasn't a hint of hesitation in his tone. He spoke with the same quiet confidence that had built one of the largest business empires in Manhattan, completely convinced that he had already figured Elise out.
Across the table, Elias studied him for several long seconds before finally setting his own drink down.
"Has she ever asked you for money?"
Xavier looked at him.
"No."
Elias's brows drew together.
"Anything expensive? Jewelry? A car? A house? Has she ever hinted that she expects you to buy her something?"
Each question was met with the same calm answer.
"No."
By the fourth denial, Cassian couldn't stop himself from smiling. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he looked at Xavier with unconcealed amusement.
"So let me get this straight," he said, almost as though he were trying to reason with someone who refused to acknowledge the obvious. "She works beside you every day, has never asked you for a single dollar, never taken advantage of your name, and has done nothing except stand by your side..."
His voice trailed off.
Then he shook his head with a quiet, incredulous laugh.
"...and you've still managed to convince yourself she's only interested in your money."
Xavier frowned slightly, genuinely unable to understand why everyone found his reasoning so difficult to accept.
"What else could it be?" He asked the question as though there were no other logical explanation. "No one falls in love at first sight."
He dismissed the very idea with a small shake of his head.
Cassian leaned back into the leather sofa, casually balancing his whiskey glass between his fingers as his gaze shifted from Xavier to Maverick. A mischievous smile slowly spread across his face, the kind that usually meant he was about to stir up even more trouble.
"But hold on." He pointed the rim of his glass toward Maverick. "A few minutes ago, you were so confident that you said she'd take the blame for murder if Xavier committed one."
The smile on Cassian's face widened.
"And now Xavier's insisting she's only after his money." He shot Xavier a glance before turning back to Maverick. "Which one is it?"
Maverick chuckled under his breath, already sensing where the conversation was headed.
Cassian leaned forward, resting one elbow on his knee while lightly twirling the whiskey in his glass.
"If Xavier's right, then there's no chance she'd ever go to prison for him."
His eyes gleamed with amusement.
"But if you're right..." He let the sentence hang deliberately before lifting a brow. "...then she would."
The room grew noticeably quieter.
Lucius looked between the two men with mild interest, while Elias slowly lowered his glass onto the table, realizing Cassian was no longer joking.
Maverick rested comfortably against the sofa, one arm draped across the backrest. He studied Cassian for a moment before a grin appeared on his face.
"Sounds like you're trying to make a bet."
Cassian's smile only grew broader.
"I am."
Maverick let out another quiet laugh.
"All right."
He lifted his glass and took a leisurely sip before meeting Cassian's eyes again.
"How much are you willing to bet?"
Without answering immediately, Cassian looked around the room, making sure he had everyone's attention. His fingers tapped thoughtfully against the crystal glass before he finally spoke.
"The East Side Manhattan Redevelopment project."
His eyes remained fixed on Maverick.
"A hundred million dollars."
Maverick's brows shot upward.
Across the table, Elias visibly straightened in his seat, while even Lucius—who rarely reacted to anything—lifted his eyes with unmistakable surprise.
For a second, no one said a word.
They all knew exactly which project Cassian was talking about.
It wasn't just another piece of land. It was one of the most sought-after developments in Manhattan, a project every major corporation in the city had been trying to secure.
Cassian wasn't making a casual wager anymore.
He was putting one hundred million dollars on the table.
The corners of Maverick's mouth slowly curled upward.
Now… He was interested.
"So how exactly are we supposed to decide who wins?"
Elias finally broke the silence. He leaned back against the leather sofa, one ankle resting over the opposite knee as he lazily turned the whiskey glass between his fingers. His sharp gaze moved from Cassian to Maverick, an amused smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"We're not exactly going to wait around and see whether Xavier commits murder."
A low chuckle circled the room.
Cassian lifted his glass to his lips, unable to hide the grin on his face, while Lucius merely lowered his eyes to the amber whiskey in his hand, the faintest trace of amusement flickering across his otherwise impassive features.
Maverick rested his elbow against the armrest, his thumb brushing thoughtfully along his jaw before his eyes drifted toward Xavier.
"There is a way."
His calm voice immediately drew everyone's attention.
Cassian raised a brow.
"Oh?" Maverick's smile deepened almost imperceptibly. "We ask the only person who already knows the answer."
The room grew quiet.
Xavier's eyes narrowed.
"No."
A smirk spread across Maverick's face.
"I'm curious to see if she'll immediately deny being your girlfriend once she's cornered. Aren't you?"
His gaze never left Xavier.
"You keep insisting this is nothing more than an arrangement. So don't you want to find out if your arrangement falls apart on its own? If she ends it herself?"
The smirk on his face widened.
"Isn't that what you want anyway? I'm just helping you."
Before Xavier could respond, Maverick suddenly leaned forward.
His hand reached across the marble table.
The iPhone lying beside Xavier's whiskey glass disappeared into his palm in one smooth movement.
Xavier reacted immediately. His hand shot out across the table, but Maverick had already stepped back, effortlessly moving the phone out of reach.
"Maverick."
Xavier's voice dropped several degrees.
"Put it back."
Instead of answering, Maverick casually lifted the phone between them.
The screen illuminated almost instantly as Face ID recognized Xavier's face from across the table.
A slow grin spread across Cassian's face.
Xavier didn't even spare him a glance.
His eyes never left Maverick.
"I'll ask you one more time."
His tone remained quiet.
"Put."
"My."
"Phone."
"Back."
The deathly quiet warning hung in the air.
Had it been anyone else, they would've returned the phone without another word.
Maverick simply smiled.
His thumb moved across the screen with practiced ease until he reached the recent calls. "There she is."
The room gradually fell silent.
No one spoke as the phone began to ring, the sound echoing softly through the private lounge while every pair of eyes remained fixed on the device in Maverick's hand. Anticipation settled over the room, broken only by the steady rhythm of the ringtone.
Across from him, Xavier's gaze remained locked on Maverick. Though his expression betrayed nothing, the temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees beneath the weight of his stare. The tension between the two men was almost tangible, pressing against everyone else in the lounge.
Maverick, however, appeared completely unfazed.
Leaning comfortably against the sofa with one ankle resting over his knee, he waited for the call to connect with the easy confidence of someone who found provoking Xavier far more entertaining than anything else in the world.
The call connected.
"...Hello?"