Chapter 23
CASSIDY
I blink the sleep from my eyes as the morning light narrowly filters through the blackout curtains of my bedroom.
My first move isn’t for my phone, but for the nightstand.
I reach out and touch the crisp edge of Sebastian Lee’s business card.
It’s been a week since he stood in the club foyer and generously offered me a lifeline.
A kindness I won’t forget anytime soon. It has also been a week since Max walked out of the front doors of the building and practically vanished.
As much as I’d love to work with him again, I refuse to question his absence.
I’m not begging any man to show me attention, work or otherwise.
If I wouldn’t ask my ex-boyfriend, Henry, why he didn’t visit while I was in the hospital or check on me once I was home, I certainly won’t chase after this enigma of a man.
I’m determined not to ask Lala or the girls if Max has been around while making small talk.
If he wanted to reach out, he would. That’s the story I cling to, even while some traitorous part of me replays every second we were together, searching for hidden meaning.
Was this purely a physical attraction, or is there more?
Could a rich, powerful man like Max Wilde really be interested in me?
Or was that lapse in restraint merely because I’m a forbidden temptation? A novelty in this tech genius’ world.
The longing is the worst part. It’s a slow, steady ache deep in my chest. It’s muted during the day when I can distract myself, but it returns at night when the world goes quiet.
I tell myself to get it together. I’m above pining over a single kiss.
But that’s exactly what I’m doing. Replaying the feel of his lips, the taste of his tongue as it swept into my mouth, the way he pushed me against that door and took what he wanted.
What does it say about me that after all I’ve been through, I enjoyed his rough, dominant possession?
That kiss is practically all I’ve thought about. And not just because it’s been so long since a man touched me. No one has ever made my body come alive the way he did. Henry certainly never had that effect on me.
Being with Max makes my heart race. Initially, I blamed it on infatuation.
A wide-eyed cyber student’s enchantment for the hot, larger-than-life tech god.
This was more than the way his mouth felt against mine.
Though, god, that alone is enough to ruin me.
The heat of it. The way the world seemed to spin right off its axis when he muttered, Fuck it, slamming his body against mine.
One minute, I was perfectly in control. The next, I was unraveling, fingers fisted in his hair like I needed him to keep me upright. It was reckless. Still, the way he knew it was forbidden and went all in was deliberate. And that’s what undoes me.
Max kissed me like he meant it.
Dragging the pad of my finger back and forth over my lower lip, I catch myself wondering if he’s thinking about it too.
If he pauses in the middle of his day the way I do, momentarily lost. If he remembers the soft sound I made when his thumb brushed my jaw.
If he feels this same restless pull. Yeah, right.
I practically facepalm myself. Like this powerful man has given me a second thought.
I won’t chase him. I won’t beg for answers. Pride is a stubborn thing, and mine refuses to bend after coming this far. I’ve already endured the emptiness of feeling discarded. The man I thought loved me, walking away when I needed him most. I’m not letting this one do the same.
But late at night, when the lights are off and I’m alone with the truth, I admit it, I don’t just miss working with him. I miss the way he looked at me. That heady, intense feeling that swirled around us like a tropical storm. And I’d love to feel it again.
However, I have much bigger fish to fry than a hot alpha CEO.
I can’t allow this attraction to an off-limits billionaire to slow my progress.
One day, I’ll have a career in digital forensics that I’m proud of.
But for now, I need to protect the job I have.
It’s the only thing keeping me safe until I’m strong enough to walk away.
Later that morning, the gym at the club is humid and smells of defeat. Holt and I finish a grueling circuit, and I’m bent over my knees, gasping for air, while he looks like he’s barely broken a sweat.
He looks at me nervously, wiping his face with a towel. “Dad’s birthday is in a few weeks. I’m going to visit him at the cemetery. I’d really like it if you’d come with me.”
I freeze. The air in the gym suddenly feels as thick as pea soup. “Holt...”
“I’ll be there the whole time,” he reassures, his voice softening. “I honestly think it’d be good for you. You never had the chance to say goodbye.”
I close my eyes, and suddenly I’m not in the gym anymore.
The smell of antiseptic is overwhelming.
My head throbs with pain while a rhythmic, mechanical beat keeps time beside me.
The telemetry monitor. I can feel the intravenous tubes, the scratchy tape on my skin, and the constant chatter in the hallway, reminding me of where I am.
The fog in my brain lifts just enough to see Holt sitting by my bed, his forehead resting on the mattress, and his strong hand holding mine.
I barely recognize him. He looks so different. Broken.
“Where’s Dad?” I whisper, my voice a raspy ghost of itself.
Holt looks up, his jaw tight. “Marleigh. Rest. You just woke up.”
But I see it in the way he looks back at me. His eyes conveying a pain beyond anything I’ve seen from him before. Something isn’t right. This isn’t about my condition. I grab his wrist, my grip weak but desperate. “Holt. Tell me.”
He breaks then. Tears track through the dark stubble on his cheeks. “He’s gone, Mar. While you were unconscious and hooked up to the monitors. His heart… it gave out. It was all too much for him.”
“He’s gone?” I choke out, my own heart breaking. “Like, he…” I can’t say it, praying I’m wrong. That word is so final. “Did he have a heart attack?” I can barely push the question out.
“The doctors called it Takotsubo, or something,” his voice cracks. “Broken heart syndrome. The stress of raising us alone, plus the police department years, now this… it was all too much.”
I shudder, the memory receding as I find myself back in the gym.
I’d researched Takotsubo cardiomyopathy later, shocked that the physical pain of grief could actually kill a person.
From what I’d learned, most people make a full recovery from it.
He was already on disability from the police department due to his heart and high blood pressure.
Dad was one of the rare cases that couldn’t bounce back.
I was surprised I hadn’t died from the very same thing once Holt shared the news.
“Okay,” I whisper, looking at my brother. He’s never pushed me to do anything. So there’s no way I’m telling him no. “I’ll go.”
“I’m proud of you, Cass.”
We head upstairs to the club in order to grab some lunch.
My mood is still weighed down by my earlier memories, until we bump into the girls near the bar.
Candice spots Holt immediately and practically skips over to us, vibrating with delight at finding her newest victim.
She’s handsy and flirtatious, leaning into his space with a wide, predatory grin.
“Cassidy,” Candice coos, her hand lingering on Holt’s biceps. “Where have you been hiding this hot brother of yours?”
The corner of Holt’s mouth lifts in a smirk before his eyes hold mine, giving me a wink.
I look at Lala behind the bar, feeling a wave of nausea. “Lala, can I get a glass of water? I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.” I turn back to the group, pointing a finger at Candice. “Can we make it a rule that no one sleeps with the relatives of the staff?”
Lala grins, sliding a glass toward me. “Well, he’s a member here, Cass. Technically, he’s already off-limits.”
Fern pulls me aside, her expression anxious as she bites her lip. “Hey, do you still mean it? About watching my little brother? I got asked out on a date. And it’s not a club guy. He’s the one from the coffee shop.” She almost swoons as she shares her news.
“Wow. This sounds like it could be getting serious. That’s great, Fern.” I have to push down the wave of envy washing over me.
“But I can’t find a sitter. I could meet you somewhere. Then you could take Caleb back to my place for the night.” She looks so hopeful, I can’t possibly say no.
I glance over at Holt. He’s watching me, a warm, proud smile spreading across his face. He knows what this costs me, stepping outside of my comfort zone.
“Yes,” I respond, nodding firmly. “I’ll do it.”
“You’re sure?” Fern beams.
“Yes,” I reassure her with more exuberance than I feel. I’ve got this, I tell myself. Baby steps.
I smooth my pink hair in the reflection of the corner café’s window. I’ve come up with a plan to keep the anxiety at bay: Sugar. Fern met me here to hand over Caleb. I figured hot chocolate and cake pops were the universal language of eight-year-olds.
Caleb is currently mid-bite, a smear of pink frosting on his upper lip that matches my hair.
He’s been staring at me with wide, unblinking eyes for ten minutes.
“You know,” he says, lowering his cake pop.
“You look like a Marvel hero. Like, maybe the one who rescues the people the Avengers forgot about.”
I laugh, feeling a genuine spark of warmth. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Does that mean you like Marvel movies?”
“Like? Obsessed is more like it.” He takes another bite before puffing out his chest. Caleb leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “We need to talk about my sister’s date. This guy? He’s already lost points. Major points.”
Taking a careful sip of my hot chocolate, I giggle. “Why’s that?”
“First, he didn’t come to the house. That’s Rule Number One.
If you want to date a girl, you show up at the door and meet the man of the house.
” He thumbs his chest. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
“I hope he at least brought her flowers. Or the good kind of candy. Not the stuff from the gas station.”
“Caleb, he probably had to meet her somewhere because Fern had to drop you off here with me,” I remind him.
He waves a hand dismissively, brushing off the logic like it’s a minor technicality. “Nope. He should’ve picked us both up and driven me here. He’s on thin ice right now.”
I’m about to reply to this eight-year-old, who is too insightful for his own good when the bell over the door chimes and Max strolls in, looking sharp and entirely out of place in a room that looks like an IKEA catalog.
He stops in his tracks when he sees us. His eyes hold mine, but the heat from the office is gone. His walls are back up.
“Cassidy,” he greets. He seems surprised to see me here, but not pleasantly so. His voice flat.
Caleb’s entire demeanor shifts. He stands up from his chair, comes over to my side of the table, his little hand reaching out to grab mine with a territorial squeeze. He glares at Max, his eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”
Max looks down at the boy, then back at me. There’s no flirtatious smirk, no trace of the man who laid one on me in Gianni’s office. He’s built the force field so high, I can’t even see the top of it. “A friend,” Max answers. But it feels like a lie.
There’s not one moment I ever felt this man was a friend.
Off-duty colleague, perhaps. Off-limits, panty-melting fantasy is more like it.
And something tells me that if you aren’t wearing a three-piece suit and have at least a seven-figure net worth, you aren’t part of his inner circle. Well, unless you’re Frank.
“We were just leaving,” I say, standing up beside Caleb. It’s sad when a precocious eight-year-old is better company than the man you’ve been dreaming of. The one who not that long ago threw caution to the wind when he planted that feverish kiss on my lips.
I’m not letting this man ruin my evening. I don’t want to be anywhere near him when he’s looking at me like I’m a line of code he’s already dismissed.
Max
I stand there, watching them leave, my jaw so tight my molars are grinding together.
I’ve stayed away for a week. I told myself it was a tactical retreat to ensure I could keep things professional. I’m still not sure it’s smart to keep working with her, but the thought of walking away completely feels nearly impossible.
Somehow, I need to make it clear that what happened in the office was a one-off. A glitch. Yet seeing her with that kid, her bright personality and pastel pink hair a stark contrast to this boring café, makes my tattered control feel even more frayed.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, expecting a status report from Loretta. Instead, the screen displays Dad. I exhale slowly and answer. “Hi, Dad.”
“Max. You haven’t been home in a while,” my father’s voice is short, flat, devoid of warmth. He pauses for a moment, the silence wrapping around my broken heart like a vine of thorns. “It would mean a lot to your mother if she could see you.”
I run a hand down my face, the familiar dread pooling in my gut. Every time I go back there, I fall into an emotional spiral that affects everything around me. It’s the one area in my life I can’t remain safe from.
“I know,” I reply, my voice sounding hollow even to my own ears. “I’m sorry. I’ve let work get in the way.” I lie. “I’ll come by. You’re right. It’s been too long.”
“Thank you. We’ll be here.” The paralyzing reality in those words makes my stomach churn.
“I know. I’ll call when I’m headed that way.” I hang up and stare at the empty table where Cassidy was sitting. I need to keep these walls up where they belong. I need to go home, deal with my ghosts, and let go of the idea that I could have someone like her in my life.
Everything in me screams this woman is hiding from something. And a woman like Cassidy deserves someone good and kind. Someone who will love and protect her. Not a man who is hellbent on setting the world on fire.