Chapter 16
CAIN
The ice in my Scotch had melted twenty minutes ago.
If that wasn’t a sign I should have been in bed, I didn’t know what would be.
Then again, when I checked my watch for the billionth time tonight, this time it showed that it was two forty-seven in the morning.
Six hours of sleep was something I always strived for but tonight, it eluded me entirely.
I loosened my tie and I glanced at my jacket that I’d draped over the arm of a chair where I’d tossed it an hour ago, which was something I usually didn’t do.
I hung and disposed of my clothing properly among other things, yet here I was, disheveled at almost three in the morning, not even remotely close to ready for bed.
I’d killed before. I didn’t make it a habit so it was only when necessary. Each time had been a calculated decision to fix a problem that required a permanent solution. Declan handled the logistics, and within hours it was as if the person had never existed.
But I hadn’t killed Bradley because he was a business problem. I’d killed him because of what he’d said about Sutton.
That realization should have concerned me more than it did.
I hadn’t eliminated a man for strategic advantage or to protect my interests, but from something far more primitive.
The moment Bradley implied that Sutton had earned her position through sexual favors rather than merit, something inside me had snapped.
Then I added salt to the wound by fucking her in front of him as he took his last breath.
And Sutton was a witness to it all. Yet her response to it had been what fascinated me most. I wasn’t surprised to see that she had followed me to see what I was up to when it came to dear old Bradley.
But when I spotted her, I noticed her eyes had widened in shock at first, as expected.
What wasn’t expected was what came after.
Most people who were witnesses to that type of violence would recoil in horror.
They broke down, ran, screamed for help or in some cases froze.
Sutton had done none of those things.
Instead, Sutton had met my gaze with something far more complex.
It was obvious that there was a mixture of fear and arousal swirling in them that mirrored what I felt.
When I kissed her, she hadn’t pushed me away.
She’d pulled me closer, matched my intensity with her own.
Even as Bradley’s life drained away beside us, she had wrapped herself around me, surrendered to me in that moment in a way I hadn’t completely mapped out before it happened.
And I couldn’t wait to take her again.
I drained what remained of my watery Scotch and set the glass down with more force than necessary. The sound echoed through the emptiness of my penthouse.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not with her. Not like this.
I walked back over to my desk and turned my computer on once again.
I narrowed my gaze as the screen flickered to life because of how bright the room became.
Within a few clicks, I pulled up the file I’d been obsessively reviewing for the past several years.
The photos and documents I’d collected formed a digital shrine showcasing my obsession with her.
Three years ago, I’d first become aware of Sutton Prescott when she single-handedly derailed one of my acquisitions.
She’d come out of nowhere, is the best way I could describe it.
While Prescott Vantage had amassed a decent clientele, this unknown woman I’d never bothered to research identified a loophole that, if made public, would have caused a shitstorm of epic proportions that I didn’t want to deal with.
I’d been furious initially but curiosity would have killed me if I didn’t look into every detail about this woman.
The earliest surveillance photos showed her leaving her office building, completely unaware she was being watched. In those images, she looked tired but determined, but her beauty still shone through.
Most men in my position would have crushed her immediately.
It would have been easy enough, a few calls, some pressure applied to the right people, and Sutton Prescott would have been looking for a new career or worse.
But something about her strategic brilliance had captured my attention.
Instead of destroying her, I’d chosen to study her.
I scrolled through the timeline I’d created, documenting each interaction and more.
I’d studied every aspect of her including her habits, her patterns, her strengths, and what I perceived to be her weaknesses.
I watched as she advanced through her father’s company, transforming Prescott Vantage from a respectable but unremarkable firm into something truly innovative in the last three years.
I observed how she navigated professional relationships, always maintaining careful distance while commanding respect.
What had begun as professional curiosity evolved into something far more consuming.
I found myself creating opportunities to observe her from afar either directly or indirectly.
Business meetings at restaurants where I knew she’d be dining.
Conferences where she was speaking. Each encounter carefully orchestrated so she’d never see me or Declan, who I’d deployed to help with this project.
The acquisition of Prescott Vantage had never been about the company’s assets or client list. It had always been about her.
I’d constructed an elaborate web of business dealings with the singular purpose of bringing Sutton Prescott into my orbit.
And now that I had her, I found myself increasingly willing to burn everything in this world down to keep her there.
My phone buzzed on the desk, breaking my concentration. Speaking of Declan, his name flashed on the screen. I hesitated before answering, knowing what this call would be about.
“It’s done,” he said without waiting for me to greet him. “No complications.”
“Good,” I replied. “Any issues with the security footage?”
“None. The cameras had a convenient malfunction for those thirty minutes. Official report will cite his gambling debts and known association with certain unsavory characters.”
I nodded, though he couldn’t see me. “And his personal shit?” I asked.
“Distributed according to protocol. Nothing traceable.”
“Thank you.” There was a slight pause before I added, “That will be all. Money will be in your account shortly.”
“Good night.”
I didn’t even bother to question how Declan suspected that I was awake at this hour because frankly it didn’t matter.
I held the phone for a moment after Declan hung up.
I was pleased that he’d cleaned up the mess that I’d created when I murdered Bradley, even as I still processed why I did what I did.
I set the phone down and moved to the closest window to me. Manhattan stretched before me in all its glory. I owned significant portions of what I could see, yet tonight none of it satisfied me.
For years I’d built a fortress around all aspects of myself including financial, emotional, strategic.
Every acquisition meticulously planned, every threat neutralized without a hair out of place.
Yet here I stood, watching the city I’d conquered while confronting an uncomfortable truth: Sutton Prescott had breached my defenses without even trying.
My reflection stared back at me in the window. The man looking back wasn’t the one the world knew. I thought about the magazine covers that called me “the calculating CEO who commanded boardrooms with a glare.” I was now someone who’d acted on raw instinct rather than cold, hard strategy.
And it had me completely fucked up.
I’d always prided myself on control. Control over my companies, my assets, my decisions, my emotions. Yet now, in the dead of night, I found myself doing something I hadn’t done in years: questioning my own judgment.
I turned away from the window and poured some more Scotch, this time not bothering with ice. The burn in my throat was welcome, but it didn’t erase what I’d done or why I’d done it.
I walked back over to my desktop to shut it down again for the night.
The urge to check this morning’s news won out because the suspense of what was going on all over the world would have kept me up anyway.
I loaded the homepages for every major news outlet in New York, D.C.
, and across the Atlantic. The headlines were grimly predictable: Senate gridlock, markets volatile, a world leader caught in some extra-marital mess.
I turned to the local pages. Not a single mention of one particular murder in New York City.
Declan was fantastic at his job. It was why we’d lasted this long, why he was my first and only call when things got bloody, literally or otherwise.
I scrolled to the financial columns next. I noted one of the headlines was some speculation about my pending moves in the Baltics and whether I’d acquire the financial organization I’d been sniffing around. It was a planted story that I couldn’t help but be amused by.
I closed the financial tabs and turned off my computer for the night.
The debate to stay up and head into the office at my usual time versus getting some sleep and maybe working from home waged in my head for a couple of minutes before I came to a decision.
In an unlikely turn of events, I decided to try to get some sleep.
I wasn’t much good to anyone, even myself, if exhaustion set in and I started making silly mistakes.
I cut the lights in my office before heading to my bedroom.
A quick email to Nancy before setting my phone down would mean at the very least my morning would be completely open for me to get some rest. When I finally slid between the sheets, my eyes started to droop even though my brain was still trying to comprehend what was going on with Sutton.
The last thing I remembered before sleep claimed me was the taste of her lips and the sound of her gasps in my ear as I’d taken her against that wall.
It wasn’t a memory I would soon forget and an experience I was eager to take part in again.