Chapter Nine
LEANING BACK IN his seat, Antaeus felt the hum of the jet’s engines change tone minutely as the ailerons—the small wings on the wings—tilted almost imperceptibly to the left to keep the cabin level.
He’d always loved flying. It was partly a childish delight in the marvel of being like a bird.
But he loved the physics involved and the way the invisible tech, the aircraft’s avionics and its flight control computer, made minute, constant adjustments.
On the surface, nothing was visible, but they were there, working tirelessly to keep everything perfectly balanced and moving forward, smooth and true.
Just like the woman sitting opposite him.
He glanced across to where Cassie was sitting cross-legged, her hair tied into another of those effortless updos, her fingers hitting the keyboard like drops of rain. She looked focused and determined and serious and, for some reason, incredibly sexy.
Probably, he realised a moment later, because she was wearing the same yoga pants and cotton tank she had worn the morning after the night in the helicopter.
Their first time together. But not the last.
The memory of her leading him into her bedroom hummed inside his head. Of her hand circling his wrist and her beautiful eyes glossy with a hunger that had left him speechless, helpless, breathless, restless, reckless, every kind of-less except his own hunger, which had been a gaping hole of need.
But it wasn’t just the sex. Picturing her face when she had offered to help him made him feel heated and unsteady.
His fingers stilled against the armrest. And happy.
It took him a moment to realise that’s what he was feeling, because he hadn’t felt like this in so long, but that’s what this was. This feeling of wanting to reach out not just to touch, but to understand, to be open, vulnerable. To be himself.
But who wouldn’t feel happy having Cassie carrying them through life?
They had left Pelion at just after nine, having shared a final meal together as the sun set into the Aegean. Or what felt like a final meal to Antaeus. Because running parallel with this feeling of happiness was the undeniable truth of the change in their relationship, and its imminent revision.
Cassie might have offered to help him, but she was a free agent now. At some point in the future, they would go their separate ways.
It wouldn’t happen when they touched down on American soil.
At the moment, Cassie was fully focused on managing the fallout from the ByteClub revelations.
But when that process ended and she was able to sit back and calmly replay his actions, he wondered how long it would take before she disappeared from his life.
It would be entirely reasonable for that to happen.
If he was anyone else, he wouldn’t want her to see him either.
Pushing aside that thought, he leaned forward and said, ‘How are we doing?’
We. The word pulsed inside his head.
There had been numerous shocks and surprises over the last week, but none felt as astonishing as the fact that he was using we in a sentence involving him and Cassie.
He felt a twinge of remorse and shame as he remembered how he had assumed she was just another nepo baby whose success wasn’t based on any recognisable talent or merit.
But Cassie needed no special treatment. She was special.
Impressive. He was impressed. Dazzled, in fact.
The phrase thinking on your feet didn’t do justice to her skill set. Back at the house, she had interviewed him, then re-interviewed him, cross-matching his answers for discrepancies. And then she sat down with her laptop and started strategizing.
Now she glanced up, and her face softened into a smile that made him glad he was sitting down. Less glad that they hadn’t retired already to the jet’s on-board bedroom.
‘It’s good. Obviously it’s going to be an ongoing process. But what I need you to do is hold two words in your head.’
‘They’re already there,’ he said softly. ‘Cassie. Bed.’
Her pupils twitched, and she bit into her lip. ‘Another two words,’ she said, and the hoarseness in her voice made the plane lurch downwards. Or perhaps it was him.
‘Which are?’
‘Proactive. Transparent. That’s all you have to remember. I will do the rest. Just try to keep an open mind.’
That look.
She had tilted her head back a fraction, and it was the same challenging gaze she had given him in her office. Back then, he hated how much he liked it. He had used her loyalty to her staff against her in a move that was straight out of the Henry Appleton playbook.
Now he loved the fire and her fearlessness and the intensity of her focus on him, loved her—
Loved her?
His blood was beating lightly. Was this love? This fierce, unyielding, compulsive awareness of a person who occupied your thoughts from dawn till dusk and onwards into your dreams?
He felt as if the plane had gone into a tailspin.
He didn’t do love. Had never gotten close to loving anyone.
His father’s imprisonment and his mother’s death had taught him a brutal, unswerving lesson: Anyone and anything could be taken away.
It was why he had built walls, why he had bought a home halfway up a mountain.
But now he felt that same desire to reach out, to let Cassie in, to hold her close and keep her safe. He understood in that moment that love was the reason he hadn’t been able to let Cassie go. It wasn’t to keep punishing her. It had nothing to do with revenge.
It was love that made him want to hold her hand and walk down Fifth Avenue. Love that made him want to roll her under his body and stretch her arms above her head and gaze into her green eyes forever.
Because only forever would be long enough.
‘Antaeus?’
Cassie was looking at him, searching his face, and he forced himself to shape his thoughts into something calm and neutral. Because he couldn’t share how he felt.
Not now, not here. Not ever.
He couldn’t expect her to feel the same way, and he didn’t.
He was entirely unworthy of her love. That she was helping him now was down simply to her intrinsic goodness.
Confessing his feelings would just be a burden for her to manage, and she had spent so long carrying the burden her father had imposed on her.
‘Sorry, I was miles away.’
Her eyes were steady on his. ‘It’s okay. I know this must feel weird, you and me doing this together.’
‘It doesn’t feel weird. It feels right. I think we make a good team.’
She nodded slowly. ‘I suppose we do. Although I am doing most of the work.’
As he reached out and caught her wrist, she laughed, and then she leaned in and kissed him eagerly.
Finally she broke away, groaning. ‘We need to focus.’
He nodded reluctantly. ‘I know. So let’s focus. Talk me through what happens next.’
In the sunlight skimming through the window, he watched her switch hats, back stiffening, serious now, every inch the CEO of a PR agency.
‘Before we land, we’re going to issue a statement acknowledging the crisis.
It’ll be brief, but it will make it clear that you’re aware of the situation and are taking it very seriously.
We’re not going to downplay anything or deflect blame.
And it’s important we use appropriate language like unethical and betrayal of trust.’
‘Transparent,’ he said softly.
‘Exactly.’ She nodded. ‘We’ll also make it clear that anyone involved in the asset theft will be fired. Plus there will be an immediate audit of ByteClub’s code. If appropriate, you will work with law enforcement.’
‘You think it’ll come to that?’
‘No. But it’s better to appear cooperative. Lastly, you will announce a plan to compensate anyone affected. That’s a critical step to show good faith.’
‘I can commit to funding that personally.’
‘I was just about to suggest that.’ She smiled. ‘But I expected some pushback.’
‘Then clearly I need to keep pulling you closer.’
As his hand curved around her waist, he heard the hiss of her caught breath. ‘Then the fun stuff starts. You’ll need to brief the media. I would recommend key journalists to stop it turning into a circus. I can prep you for that. Your tone needs to be one of genuine regret.’
‘Proactive.’
‘Correct. We’ll use social media to echo the public statement and share updates on the investigation and compensation process. Keep it empathetic and focused on any victims.’
‘Is that everything?’
She shook her head. ‘After the media briefing, we should release a follow-up statement about your commitment to due diligence and a promise to implement more rigorous vetting processes for future investments. Like an ethical investment charter.’
Leaning forward, she picked up her coffee cup and took a quick gulp. ‘This isn’t just going to be about what you say, but what you hide. It’s about revealing the truth on your own terms. And now I only have two words left to say.’
He met her gaze. ‘Transparent. Proactive.’
Closing her laptop, she got to her feet and held out her hand. ‘Antaeus. Bed.’
‘How much longer until we land?’
Glancing up from his laptop to where Cassie was sitting, Antaeus frowned. ‘Thirty minutes. Maybe a bit less.’
They had managed to get some sleep. Less than they needed, but sleep came second to other needs they shared.
‘I’m sorry I had to wake you up so early.’
‘It was the best early wake-up I’ve ever had,’ she said softly.
He held her gaze. ‘For me too.’
They had woken to a thin, hazy sunrise, not white or yellow as he might have imagined but a mix of orange and purple and pink as the light filtered through the clouds. As the colours deepened, they reached for one another wordlessly.
Despite the urgency of the day ahead, Antaeus had held himself back, letting the pleasure build slowly, teasing out each and every sensation, blocking out the ache in his chest.
‘I’ve had another thought about how we follow up the initial statement.’
‘Go on.’