Chapter 13 Cassian
CASSIAN
The woman at the bar has been watching me for twenty minutes.
She’s beautiful. Dark hair, expensive dress, and confidence that comes from knowing exactly what she wants. When she finally approaches, drink in hand and a fake smile on her lips, I already know what she’s going to say.
“You’re Cassian Rourke.”
“I am.”
“I’m Amanda.” She slides onto the stool beside me, close enough that I can smell her perfume. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“I’m sure you have.”
She laughs like I’ve said something clever. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
“Come on. One drink. We could talk, get to know each other.”
I look at her properly for the first time. She’s exactly the type I would have gone home with years ago. No complications, no expectations, just a night that ends when morning comes.
But I haven’t done that since Aurelia.
Not once in six years.
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m not interested.”
Her smile falters. “Oh. Okay. Well, if you change your mind—”
“I won’t.”
She leaves, and I go back to my drink.
Declan appears a few moments later, sliding into the seat Amanda just vacated. He glances at her retreating figure and raises an eyebrow. “You turned her down.”
“I did.”
“That’s the third one this month.”
“You’ve been counting?”
“I have.” He orders a whiskey and waits until the bartender leaves before continuing. “When’s the last time you actually went home with someone?”
I don’t answer.
“That’s what I thought.” Declan takes a sip and studies me. “It’s been six years, Cassian. Maybe it’s time to move on.”
“I have moved on.”
“Then why do you keep turning down every woman who shows interest?”
I finish my drink and signal for another. “We didn’t come here to discuss my personal life.”
“No, we came here to discuss the Vance surveillance. Which, by the way, has cost us a fortune and yielded nothing.”
“Pull it,” I say.
Declan blinks. “What?”
“The surveillance. Pull it. You’re right, it’s a waste of resources.”
He looks surprised. I’ve been refusing to shut down the operation for years, insisting that eventually something would break. But nothing has.
“You’re serious,” Declan says.
“Yes.”
“What changed?”
“Nothing changed. It’s just time to accept that she’s gone and I’m not finding her.”
Declan studies me for a long moment, then nods. “I’ll make the calls tomorrow.”
My phone buzzes before he can say anything else. It’s a call from an unknown number with a New Jersey area code. I answer.
“Mr. Rourke, this is Matteo Romano.”
I recognize the name. One of our contacts who feeds us information about rival operations. “What do you have?”
“Victor Vance died last night. Heart attack at his estate. Paramedics couldn’t revive him.”
Everything stops.
“You’re certain?” I ask.
“Positive. My source inside Vance operations confirmed it an hour ago. Julian Vance is taking over, but there’s chaos. Transition period, power struggles.”
“Understood. Keep me informed.” I hang up and set the phone down.
Declan is watching me. “What?”
“Victor Vance just died. Heart attack.”
His expression shifts immediately. “When?”
“Last night.”
We stare at each other.
“The surveillance—” he starts.
“Don’t pull it. Not yet.”
“You think this changes things.”
“Victor was the one who refused to cooperate. He’s the one who hid her and made it clear that pushing meant war. Now he’s dead, and Julian is in charge.”
“Julian is trying to legitimize the family. He doesn’t need the same enemies his uncle had.”
“Exactly.”
Declan leans forward. “So what do you want to do?”
“I want information. Where Victor sent her. Where she’s been. Whether she’s even still alive, and I want it before Julian consolidates power and the window closes.”
“The family is going to be distracted right now. Focused on internal transitions, securing Julian’s position.”
“Which means their security is weaker than it’s been in years.”
Declan nods slowly. “I’ll start making calls. See who we can approach quietly.”
“Mid-level people. The ones who know things but aren’t important enough to be untouchable. Offer money, protection, whatever it takes.”
“What if we don’t find anything?”
“Then we go higher up the chain. But we start at the bottom and work our way up.”
“This could get messy if Julian finds out we’re poking around during his uncle’s funeral.”
“Then make sure he doesn’t find out until it’s too late.”
Declan stands. “I’ll have something by tomorrow.”
He leaves, and I’m alone at the bar with the first real hope I’ve felt in years.
Victor Vance is dead.