Chapter Nineteen
CASSIA
WHAT’S TAKING HIM so long?
Maybe he’s dead.
I hope he’s dead.
That would make things significantly easier for me, which is precisely how I know Rexton is still alive.
Things are never easy. Despite what Silas and Valeria claim, the fates have a personal vendetta against me.
I can’t fathom what I’ve done to upset them, but they’ve been after me since childhood.
I storm down the cobblestone streets of downtown Wrath, Jassy’s heels clicking behind me.
She huffs. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
I slow, allowing her to catch up. “Yes. Take off your shoes if they’re giving you so much trouble.”
I told her after Chev’s visit yesterday that we’d be making this trip, but she ignored me. Maybe she didn’t believe me. I’ve been hiding from the public, but Chev’s visit rejuvenated me. I’m Cassia, the future Queen of Wrath. Who am I to be hiding? I have nothing to be ashamed of.
Demons shoot me sly glances as I pass by, which isn’t anything unusual. It’s not every day they see a royal strolling about, but for the first time in weeks, I keep my chin held high.
I’m not ashamed.
I’m not scared.
I’m not weak.
I am better than Rexton.
I don’t know much about the man, and it appears nobody else does, either. He was a shadow before my mother was purchased—or rescued, as my fathers prefer to say—and he disappeared from Wrath only a few years after the end of the war.
From what I’ve been able to gather, he was tasked with protecting my mother while my fathers were fighting Mammon. He gained a physical form shortly after, and when Gray took over Lust, he fucked his way through the kingdom under the guise of helping Gray settle into his new leadership role.
That’s not helpful information.
I need to know about his childhood. His ambitions. His fears. I need a comprehensive profile of Rexton, and there’s only one person I trust to get it for me—especially under such short notice. Rexton will be reaching the Wrath border soon, and I plan to be prepared.
The reclaimed brick building is just ahead, and my throat runs dry as I eye the giant clock built into the front facade. I’ve spent too much time inside this converted clock tower, and it’s filled with memories.
Not positive ones.
Jassy groans when she sees where I’m headed. She hates Wren, but this isn’t a personal call. This is business, and I’m perfectly capable of remaining professional around my cheating whore of an ex-boyfriend.
The thick, front doors of the clock tower are propped open, and I don’t allow myself to hesitate as I step inside and head toward the stairwell on the left. There’s a small reception desk immediately upon entering, but I have no intention of signing in.
I’m aiming for discretion.
“Would you like me to come up?” Jassy asks.
“No.” I shake my head. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
I trust Jassy, but not enough. She worked for Aziel first, and I’d be foolish not to realize that her loyalty ultimately lies with him. She won’t say anything about me visiting Wren if she believes it’s for personal reasons, but she will if she discovers I’m here on business.
I wouldn’t have brought her with me if I had any say in the matter, but I suspect my fathers are monitoring my movements.
Making an unprompted, solo trip downtown after weeks of reclusiveness draws attention, but bringing Jassy is significantly less suspicious.
They’ll assume we came here for an urgent work matter, one I couldn’t ignore.
Jassy lingers by reception as I head upstairs.
Wren rents out the entire top floor, and I mentally prepare for what I’m about to encounter as I approach the stairwell exit.
I was hopelessly in love the last time I walked through these doors, and I waved wildly at Wren’s four employees as I strolled toward Wren’s private office in the back.
Then I promptly walked in on him fucking another woman on his office couch.
It’s been three years, but my palms still break out into a cold sweat as I shove open the stairwell exit and step onto the top floor. Three employees are lingering about.
One looks up as I enter the room. I recognize him. The other two are new, which isn’t surprising. Wren has a high turnover rate. He hires intelligent, strong, young men, most of whom eventually get recruited into Wrath’s military efforts.
It must infuriate Wren, which brings me immense satisfaction. He deserves nothing less. I only wish I was involved with the recruitment. That would be a sweet revenge.
Wren’s office door taunts me, but I refuse to let my nerves show as I welcome myself inside. I don’t bother knocking, and I’m so fucking relieved to see he’s alone. He’s sitting behind his desk, his eyebrows furrowed as he flips through photographs.
He used to complain about the sheer amount of infidelity he uncovers, about how it disgusts him. It didn’t disgust him enough to keep his dick in his pants.
Wren looks up, then jolts to his feet.
“Cassia!” He clears his throat, his eyes comically wide. “What’re you doing here?”
I look around, briefly eyeing the couch he was lounging on while that woman rode him, before shifting my focus to his desk. It’s cluttered, which is unusual for him. Wren is tidy. Poised and tidy and always in control. It’s what attracted me to him.
Clutter is unattractive, and I cock my head to the side as I scan the hundreds of photographs scattered across his desk. They’re of a woman, and a sharply dressed man occasionally accompanies her.
“Wife having an affair?” I ask.
Wren drags his hands through his short, black hair. “I believe so.”
I hum. Wren’s wearing a suit today. It’s been tailored to his frame, and it looks good. He always looks good. He’s articulate, handsome, and powerful.
I take the seat opposite his desk.
“I have a job for you,” I say. “It’s a personal matter.”
Wren blinks, lowering himself into his chair. “What is it?”
“I need you to look into a man. His name is Rexton. He worked for my parents, and I need a comprehensive report as soon as possible. No detail is too small.”
Wren’s responding silence is far from comforting. It’s uncomfortable and telling.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.” Wren shakes his head. “I’m just confused as to why you’re looking into the man who murdered Mammon. Do you suspect he will attempt something against your family?”
He knows Rexton murdered Mammon? I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised. Wren keeps tabs on every high-profile person within Wrath, even the ones most wouldn’t realize are worth monitoring. I had no idea Rexton existed, but I wouldn’t be shocked to learn that Wren has been watching him for years.
What does Wren know about me? I used to fear he was only interested in me because of the connections it granted him. I brought him to family dinners and introduced him to my parents. I told him secrets. I was a valuable asset.
I told myself he loved me for who I was. Nobody could convince me otherwise. How humiliating. I see Wren for who he is now. He’s an opportunist, and he’s conniving.
He’s the only man who can find the information I want.
“Cassia…” Wren urges. “Why are you looking into Rexton?”
I lean back in my chair, debating what to say. Wren is known for his discretion, but I’m not an ordinary woman. My parents aren’t ordinary people, either. My biological father is his king. Wren will do almost anything to get in Aziel’s good graces, especially after the cheating scandal.
Mom refuses to be in the same room as him, and my fathers pretend he doesn’t exist. It must crush his precious ego to be so publicly snubbed by the royal family.
“I suspect Rexton is going to be a nuisance,” I admit. “But I don’t believe he’s a danger to my family.”
It’s not a lie. I need to know who Rexton is before he returns and weasels his way into my family’s good graces, but not because I’m concerned about him murdering us. I need to know who Rexton is so I can destroy him, preferably both publicly and privately.
Wren sucks his lips into his mouth, his eyes narrowing. He’s evaluating me, hoping to find the hidden emotion behind my request. I stare blankly back at him, giving him nothing to work with. Wren and I dated for a little over a year. I know him.
I know his ambitions.
“I assume you’ve heard that Gray has formally stepped down,” I say. “My brother is now the King of Lust.”
Wren nods. “I’m aware.”
“David has a soft spot for you.”
That’s a mild way of describing it. David knew Wren first. They met at a brothel. I was told Wren was there on business, following a Wrath man whose wife suspected an affair. David is drawn to drama like a moth to a flame, and the pair became fast friends.
David thought himself a little investigator. He invited Wren to a family party.
I fucked Wren that very same night. It was mainly to piss off David, but also because I liked the way Wren carried himself. He was everything I thought I wanted in a man.
“David had a soft spot for me,” Wren corrects me. “He hasn’t spoken to me since you and I broke up, and I was forcibly escorted out of Lust the few times I tried visiting him.”
I glance at my hands, holding back a smile. I hate David, but he’s a good brother. He was the first person I ran to after walking in on Wren. He didn’t ask a single question or crack a single joke, and as far as I know, he hasn’t spoken to Wren since.
“I’d be willing to put in a good word,” I say.
I’m not sure it’ll change anything, but I’m willing to try. I’m desperate for information on Rexton, and if it means having Wren back in my life, then so be it. We broke up years ago. I’m over it. Over him.
Wren lets out a long, drawn-out sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, which means he’s about to concede. He always makes a show of it, probably so the other person feels like they owe him. I don’t let myself feel that emotion. I owe Wren nothing.
“Very well,” he finally says. “Is there anything specific you’d like to know?”
I shake my head. “No. I want everything. Let me know when you’re finished.”
I can’t be in this office any longer. It’s suffocating, and I don’t bother with polite pleasantries as I take my leave. Jassy’s chatting up the receptionist, and she strolls over as I emerge from the stairwell.
“That was fast,” she notes.
“It was a quick conversation.”
Jassy falls silent, waiting for me to elaborate. I don’t. She most likely suspects I was reconnecting with Wren, that my failure to murder Mammon and recent depression have pushed me to take back the man who publicly humiliated me. I’d never stoop so low, but I let Jassy believe it.
“Is there anything else we need to do here?” she asks.
I eye her shoes and the way her ankles wobble with every step on the cobblestoned road. The decision to walk here was deliberate. I want the people of Wrath to see me and know that Aziel’s daughter isn’t in hiding, as some rumors may suggest, but Jassy isn’t going to make the walk back.
“Yes.” I extend my hand, intending to teleport us. “Come on.”
Jassy clutches my forearm, her grip tight, and I pull in my power and teleport us back to the office. I expect to return to the sound of muffled conversations and shuffling feet, but we’re faced with pure chaos instead.
I know exactly what this means. He’s back.