43. Cassidy #2
The moment I step into the living room, every pair of eyes turns towards me. Nobody is smiling, they don’t pretend that everything is fine.
Isaac has hung up his coat and our bags, then helps me out of mine. I kick my heels off at the door, and Silas stands, gesturing to the armchair he’s just got up from.
“Come sit down, little moonlight.”
My heart pounds. I don’t move. I can’t.
“What’s happened?” I ask quietly. “Is… is everyone okay?”
Harlan turns from the window, his expression carefully neutral. “Nobody is hurt. We’ve just got some news to share, and we know it’s going to upset you.”
I finally move to the armchair, sinking into it. I lace my fingers together in my lap before anyone can notice them trembling.
“Tell me,” I say, my voice smaller than I intended.
Silas moves to the edge of the coffee table, lowering himself carefully so we’re almost at eye level.
Evander sits up, giving Isaac room to sit near me. I look from face to face, each of them looking at me with expressions I can’t quite read.
“What is it?” I ask when nobody speaks.
Harlan drags a hand down his face before finally pushing away from the window, coming to sit near me.
Silas takes a deep breath. “There’s been some news in the series of leaks we’ve had.”
I nod carefully. “Right.”
Is this my fault? Did something lead back to me? Or worse, to one of them? I look between Silas and Harlan, worried one of their careers is in jeopardy.
My mind races, nausea building in my gut, as I tuck my open hand under my thigh to hide the trembling.
Silas leans forward, elbows on his knees, and I can see the weight of what he’s about to say pressing down on him.
“Gemma Powter has been dismissed,” he says, his voice carefully measured. “The internal investigation found evidence that she’s been the cause of the confidential information being shared with Visaro.”
The words don’t land properly. They hit my ears and slide sideways instead of sinking in.
There’s no way.
Gemma.
I know things have been tense between us today, and that she was a little on edge, but to betray our company? To steal?
Surely, not. It makes no sense. Gemma is… she’s a hard worker. She’s—
“Gemma?” I repeat, my voice barely a whisper. “Gemma the intern? Not another Gemma? Not someone I don’t know?”
Isaac squeezes my hand gently, the warmth not quite enough to ground me. My mind spins. The Gemma I know wouldn't do this. She just… wouldn’t.
“Are you sure?” I ask, my voice shaking. “There must be some mistake.”
Harlan shifts closer, deliberately letting his warm brioche and honeyed citrus settle over me like a shield. “We’re sure, little luxury. I’m so sorry.”
“How?” My voice cracks on the word. I pull my hand from under my thigh and press my fingertips against my temple, trying to order my thoughts. “She’s an intern. She doesn’t have access to anything from this campaign. How could she possibly have leaked it?”
I hang my head, my breathing coming out uneven, and the silence that follows is so heavy it feels like it’s pressing down on my shoulders.
“She’s been printing documents after hours and removing them from the building,” Silas says.
“But she doesn’t have access—”
“She doesn’t need it,” Harlan interrupts, his voice gentle but firm. “She found a way around that.”
“Oh.”
Isaac lets his thumb brush across my knuckles before I pull away. I wipe my hands against my skirt, trying to get rid of the sweat.
“We received an email this afternoon from the Visaro legal team. They’ve been sending over whatever information they find,” Harlan says, crouching down in front of me until our eyes are almost level, his long fingers resting loosely against his knees.
He rests back on his calves and yet is still taller than me. “I noticed something in one of the documents that was shared.”
A cold feeling begins creeping slowly through my chest.
“What was it?” My voice is so small, so empty.
“It was a document only you and I had access to, little luxury,” Harlan continues.
I gasp, shaking my head quickly. “But I never—”
“We know,” Silas says firmly. “Nobody ever doubted you, Cassidy.”
“But…” I trail off.
My stomach lurches so violently that I press my hand against my mouth. The room tilts sideways, and for one horrible second, I’m convinced I’m going to be sick.
I’m not. But my body keeps trying anyway, bile rising in my throat as I double over, my forehead nearly touching Harlan’s shoulder.
Harlan’s hand finds the back of my neck, steadying me. His touch is warm and sure, but it doesn’t stop the sickening realisation washing over me.
“That’s why you were all so tense,” I whisper, understanding dawning. “You thought it might have been me.”
“No,” Harlan snarls.
Evander rubs a hand across the back of his neck. Silas’s jaw tightens. Harlan’s eyes don’t leave mine.
“I told you weeks ago that I never doubted you. That none of us doubted you,” Harlan says darkly. “How could you think we’d have changed our minds now?”
Oh.
“She’s been sneaking into your office when you’re not there,” Evander tells me. “And has figured out how to use the scanner to reprint anything you’ve put in.”
The words hit me like a physical blow.
She’s been sneaking into your office.
My office. The one with my nest. My safe place in that building. She’s been… breaking in? Polluting it with her scent?
After all I’ve done to help her, the times I’ve put my own needs to the side to give her the support and help she’s asked for.
“She used me?”
Nobody contradicts me. I press my hand against my mouth, trying to swallow the bitter taste rising in my throat.
“She used me,” I repeat, the realisation dawning.
Silas nods. “I’m sorry, Cassidy. We’re so fucking sorry.”
“I’m actually more angry than sorry,” Evander says. “Especially since Isaac refused to let me murder her.”
I grimace. “Sorry, Van, but I do think Isa was right there.”
Isaac smirks but doesn’t tease the alpha.
“There’s something else,” Harlan says, and I feel a pang of guilt through the bond. “This is partly my fault.”
I shake my head. “No, it’s not. I know you’re all going to tell me I’m not allowed to blame myself, and that means you can’t either.”
“And you shouldn’t,” Harlan says. “But I can. When you were assigned to me, I organised your office for you, and… I kept the key.”
I tilt my head, my eyes widening. “My key?”
“For the door. I didn’t… I didn’t want you to be able to lock me out,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck, his cheeks tinged red.
“It was stupid, I know. I completely forgot about the key after a few weeks, and it just never occurred to me that anyone else might want to be in your office. That bitch did.”
“It’s not your fault, Harl,” I say softly. “She’d have found another way in, even if I did lock my door. I’m… a little naive, really, and we saw how easily she’s used me already. Let’s make a deal to not blame ourselves.”
“I thought you seemed guilty earlier,” Evander says with a laugh. “But I suppose we’re all a little guilty.”
I nod, but I don’t feel better. The betrayal still sits heavy in my chest, a cold weight that won’t shift.
“That’s not all,” Isaac says, and I turn to the beta, rubbing my temples once more.
This headache isn’t going to shift anytime soon, is it?
“What?”
“We know who she was giving the information to,” Isaac says.
Part of me doesn’t want to know. I want to bury my head in the sand. Pretend none of this is happening.
But I can’t. I have to know.
“Who is it?” I whisper, not looking at any of them.
Deep down, I already know the answer.
The silence stretches for a moment too long. Isaac’s hand finds mine again, his thumb tracing slow circles across my knuckles.
“Frankie,” Silas says.
Frankie.
Of course, it was.
The boy who helped me at university.
Who turned up with takeaway after bad exams.
The man who offered endless advice and friendship.
The man who… lied to me.
“You’re sure?” I ask calmly.
Much too calmly.
“We’re sure,” Evander and Harlan say almost as one.
I stare at my hands in my lap.
Frankie Bennett. My very first friend. Someone I look up to. Someone who… has cheated his way through his career.
It doesn’t hurt the way I expect it to. It doesn’t feel like anything at all. It’s just a name.
He’s just… Frankie.
“He messaged me earlier,” I mention blandly. “He was a little… off. I was going to call him tonight, just to check in.”
Isaac and Silas share a look before Silas leans forward.
“You can try to call him, if you’d like,” Silas offers. “See if you can get some… resolution.”
The room falls completely silent as my mates give me the chance to decide this for myself.
I stare at the carpet because I can’t quite work out how to keep looking at any of them.
After all the trouble I’ve brought them, they’re still here for me. They’re still mine.
“I’ll call him,” I tell them quietly. “If you’ll all stay here with me whilst I do it.”
“There’s nowhere else we’d rather be, shortcake,” Isaac promises.
They stay exactly where they are, surrounding me without crowding me, waiting for me to decide what happens next. Evander offers me my phone, and I unlock it.
My hands are still shaking, but only slightly now. I’m not sure whether that’s because I’m calming down or because I can’t feel much of anything any more.
Frankie’s name is near the top of my recent messages, and I click onto his contact to call him.
The coward in me would rather text, but I need to hear his voice. Need to know how he says it.
So I can tell if it affected him.
All day, I’ve been worried about him, and it turns out, he was betraying me.
Maybe there’s a reasonable explanation.
There has to be.
Frankie wouldn’t deliberately hurt me. He wouldn’t watch me tear myself apart for weeks, knowing he could make it stop.
He couldn’t.
Right?
I press the call button.
The room is so quiet that everyone can hear the faint ringing through the speaker.
Once. Twice.
The call cuts off.
His voicemail greeting is the standard robotic one, and I stare at the screen in confusion.
Maybe he’s in a meeting. Maybe his phone died. Maybe…