Chapter Twenty-Eight
CASSIA
THIS IS BENEATH me.
My annoyance grows as I scan the card options. All of these are atrocities. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve purchased cards for others, and never in an attempt to apologize. I’m rarely put in a position where an apology is necessary.
I scan the table where the cards are neatly sorted, eventually grabbing a blank one. The cover is flat pink with floral imprints, and the interior is left empty.
I don’t need a card to apologize on my behalf. I’m Cassia, for fuck’s sake. I can write my own apology.
The lady at the register is eating as she takes my money, and I eye the column of her throat as she swallows. Is it necessary for her to chew so loudly? Her fingers also appear suspiciously sticky.
“Do you have a pen?” I ask.
She nods, gesturing to a cup on the right.
I take this opportunity to fill out my card, settling for something simple.
Rexton.
I apologize for the comments I made regarding your family yesterday.
It’s not your fault you were born a shadow. It’s a birth defect—one you had no control over. I know you wouldn’t have chosen to be a shadow, nor would you have chosen to have parents who beat you.
You were born into a weak body, but you’ve overcome that. I don’t believe you are stronger than me, but you have considerable strength.
Additionally, after further elaboration, I agree with your statements regarding Mammon’s death. I will no longer allow her murder to be the reason I dislike you so passionately. You defended Wrath, and my family, and it’s appreciated. I’m ready to move on.
Cassia.
This is perfect. I read through my apology several times, ensuring I’ve covered all my bases. I’ve apologized for my comments regarding his shadow form, and I’ve addressed my grudge.
I mean what I’ve written about letting it go, too. I’m annoyed I wasn’t the one to murder Mammon, but at least she’s dead. This was a win for Wrath, and I’m tired of holding this grudge. It’s exhausting, and it isn’t getting me anywhere.
I’m willing to admit I’m still threatened by Rexton’s popularity among Wrath, but that’s a separate issue to tackle.
I fold up the card and teleport to Lust. The card is a good start, but it’s not enough. I need David’s assistance. I don’t enjoy coming to him for help, but it’s a necessary evil.
I find him in his office, thankfully alone.
“I need a succubus,” I say.
David raises a brow. “A succubus?”
“Yes.”
I tap my foot against the ground, eager to get this over with. Rexton has only an hour break between meetings, which doesn’t leave him much time with his gift. Succubi are expensive, and I don’t love spending my money within Lust.
David leans back in his chair. “I’ve always suspected you—”
“It’s not for me,” I interrupt. I pull a folded-up piece of paper out of my pocket. Getting Rexton’s address was challenging, but I managed to secure it. I hand the paper to David. “How soon can you have somebody at this address?”
David skims the address, his lips pursed. “In fifteen minutes, but it’ll cost you.”
Of course. Succubi are expensive, and David knows better than to send me somebody of low value. I have a reputation to uphold. I want the best.
“Why a succubus?” David asks.
Has he always been this nosy? “It’s an apology.”
“For Rexton?”
What makes him guess that? “What have you heard?”
“Enough to know you owe him an apology.”
I drag my hands through my hair, displeased with this information.
I knew word would travel around the workplace, but I never imagined it would spread outside Wrath’s borders.
That’s not ideal, and I hope my kingdom doesn’t hold it against me.
Wraths are known for their long grudges, and they adore Rexton.
He’s managed to capture their hearts in a little over a month, and they’ll fight for him. I’m not sure if they’d fight for me. If somebody talked to me the way I spoke to Rexton yesterday, they’d applaud.
“Getting him a succubus is very kind,” David says. “He’ll appreciate this.”
I nod. “I know.”
I’m no fool. I may not know much about Rexton, but I’m well aware of his adventures within Lust. He whored his way through most of the women here, and he did so with wild abandon. I’d be impressed by the rumors of his skill if I didn’t hate him so much.
An hour with a succubus is the perfect apology.
“Can you get it done?” I ask David.
“Of course.”
I nod, then grimace. I promised Wren I’d put in a good word, and I keep my promises—even when they leave a bad taste in the back of my mouth.
“You should reach out to Wren,” I say.
David visibly recoils. “What?”
“Just do it.”
I leave before he says anything else. I don’t care to hear his opinions and commentary on Wren or my behavior toward Rexton. I already feel guilty, and I don’t need him adding to it. He loves to do so, the bastard constantly rubbing salt in my wounds. He takes sick pleasure in it.
I teleport to Rexton’s office.
The hallway is empty, thank the heavens, and I give the door a sharp knock before welcoming myself inside. I don’t care to linger in the hallway, not when anybody could round the corner and see me.
I’ve spun up enough drama, and I’m not eager to create more.
Rexton is sitting behind his desk. He’s flicking through a stack of paperwork, and he lets out a long sigh as I step into the room and shut the door behind me.
“What do you want?”
I ignore his cold greeting. “I have something for you.”
I slide the card across his desk, my heart pounding. I don’t do this often, and I’m nervous. Rexton is my sworn enemy, yet I’m giving him handwritten cards and paying for his sex workers.
Rexton takes my card, his eyebrows pulling together as he reads my carefully crafted apology. He takes a long minute to respond, and the seconds are agonizing. He must be doing it intentionally. He enjoys making me sweat.
Finally, he clears his throat. “What is this?”
“An apology.” What else would it be? It’s fairly obvious.
“This isn’t much of an apology.”
I grind my teeth, beyond frustrated. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Rexton glances between me and the letter. He’s wearing this stupid, confused expression, and I cross my arms over my chest as I wait for his explanation. After an excruciating second, he chuckles.
I jolt, not expecting that reaction.
“What’s so funny?” I hiss.
“Nothing.” Rexton clears his throat, setting my letter on his desk. “I didn’t realize you were being genuine. My apologies.”
Of course I’m being genuine. “That’s not all,” I say. “A succubus is waiting for you in your apartment.”
Rexton blinks. “What?”
“A succubus. She should be at your apartment any minute now.”
“How do you know where I live?” Rexton shakes his head. “That doesn’t even matter. In what world do you think it’s appropriate to hire me a succubus?”
I open my mouth, then shut it. This isn’t the reaction I expected. I anticipated Rexton would teleport away the moment he heard a succubus was waiting for him. He’d be pleased with my apology and tell everybody that he’s forgiven me.
“You can’t…” Rexton pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I give it that you don’t have much experience apologizing.”
I shrug. “It’s not something I make a habit of doing.”
“Obviously.”
An awkward silence falls over us. I run my tongue over my top teeth, unsure where to go from here. I never considered the possibility that Rexton might not appreciate my card and succubus. I was confident it would work.
I move to grab the card off Rexton’s desk, wanting it back, but he snatches it up before I make contact. My hands curl into fists, and I shove down a snarky remark as I meet Rexton’s eye.
“Give it back.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s mine.”
I’m going to rip out my hair. “You don’t appreciate it, so you don’t get to keep it.”
Rexton holds eye contact as he opens his top desk drawer and drops the card inside. I debate lunging for him as he pushes the drawer shut. He’s wearing a snarky little smile, like he’s so fucking proud of himself, and I hate it.
I grind my teeth. “Enjoy your succubus.”
I need to leave this room before I do or say something I regret. I’ve done my part and apologized, and if Rexton doesn’t want to accept my thoughtful gifts, then that’s on him.
He says nothing as I storm out of his office. Several people shoot me pointed glares, and it’s hard to ignore them.
Rexton wasn’t wrong when he said I’m insecure, jealous, and angry. All three are accurate, which is probably why it hurt so much when he said it. I try hard to hide those traits of myself, and it’s humbling to learn I’m not doing as good of a job as I thought.
Is it truly as transparent as Rexton claims it to be?
I don’t think so. I can’t let myself believe so. That would crush me, and my sanity is barely held together by a thin, thin thread. One slight tug and it’ll come unraveling, and only the fates know what a mess that’ll be.
Jassy isn’t at her desk, and I can’t help but wonder if she’s interviewing elsewhere as I retreat into my office. I wouldn’t entirely blame her. She likes Rexton, even if she turned down his offer to date. She respects him, probably more than she does me.
I peer out my office window, staring into the landscaped field below me. A shadow is maintaining the lawn, its tall, lanky frame hunched forward as it messes with one of the flower beds. Is this what Rexton did before my fathers purchased my mother? The file Wren supplied me suggests so.
The shadow straightens up, its robes swishing around its feet. Is it a male or female? I can’t tell from this distance.
The air behind me ripples, and Rexton appears inside my office a second later. Has he finished with the succubus already? I check the clock, then return to my window. It’s been less than five minutes.
“Was she not to your liking?” I hum. “Or perhaps she was exactly what you needed. I won’t tell anybody you finished so quickly.”
Rexton frowns. He doesn’t appreciate my humor. “We need to talk.”
“About what?”
I’m sick of talking. It rarely gets me anywhere, and I’m coming to realize it’s nothing more than a colossal waste of time.
Rexton clears his throat. “About sexual harassment.”
I laugh.
Rexton doesn’t.
He can’t be serious.
“Are you suggesting that I’ve sexually harassed you?”
The question is bitter on my tongue. It’s a question I never thought I’d ask. It’s outrageous.
“I am,” Rexton says. “Why don’t you take a seat?”
“This is my office.”
Rexton can’t tell me what to do, not within my own space.
“I’m aware.”
To keep the peace, I sink into my chair. Rexton lowers himself into the one opposite me.
“This isn’t fun for me, either,” he says, “but it’s become clear that we should establish some boundaries.”
He’s being genuine. I can’t believe it.
Rexton should be thanking me, not accusing me of sexual harassment. If anybody overhears this, my reputation will be ruined. Nobody will take me seriously. I’ll become the laughingstock of Wrath.
I’ll have no choice but to disappear forever.
My bracelet limits me to Wrath and Lust, but there are several pockets of uncultivated land for me to vanish into. I’ll never be seen again. Maybe that’s Rexton’s goal. He’s winning, and I’m powerless to stop it.
Rexton shakes his head. “Hells, if Charlie found out…”
I cock my head to the side, realization sweeping through me. Rexton doesn’t care about the prostitute, not really. He cares that it came from me. Me, a twenty-seven-year-old adult woman. I didn’t realize this would be an issue with Rexton. I should’ve known better.
I may be the Wrath Trio’s daughter, but I’m no child.