Chapter 3
CASSIUS
Sarah Carpenter looked even more beautiful up close than she did in the photos.
True, some of it was the physical. Her eyes seemed to glow with the kind of intensity that only an artist truly committed to their craft could have.
The curves on her body were accentuated by the black cocktail dress she had on, seductive enough to charm potential buyers but not so outrageous that she was a better fit in a nightclub.
Standing in her mere presence was enough to arouse me, and if I had less control, it might have shown.
But of all the things about Sarah Carpenter, it was not even her beauty that got me.
It was the little game we were playing right now.
Sasha Carter?
Sure, Sarah. I’d be happy to call you Sasha for a spell. Let’s see what you say without saying it. Let’s just see how long you can play this game.
Because if there was one thing I knew, it was that I was better than anyone I knew at playing games like this. I was more than happy to go along with whatever rules anyone else wanted. I could play their game better than they could, and when they finally cracked, I’d get what I wanted.
And what did I want?
… as it turned out, the answer to that wasn’t immediately obvious. A quick fuck seemed too easy, too simple. Oh, I’d fuck her if I wanted to. But I wanted more with Sarah Carpenter. After what she did to me and my family? I wanted her down on her knees for me, and not just before we fucked.
This little game we had was a good start.
“I remember, several years ago,” I said, pretending to ruminate on regrets, “there was a woman in my life. She had the same initials as you, believe it or not. Amusing coincidence, if I say so.”
“Amusing, indeed,” she said with a nervous laugh. God, she squirmed so much. It was such a delight. And I wasn’t even trying that hard at the moment.
“She was one of the few people in my life I could trust fully. You see, when you have the last name I have, many people want you for reasons other than who you are. You have to be careful. She, somehow, became one of them.”
I paused. I liked making people sit with silence. It unnerved them. In business meetings, it made people lower their demands. With women, it made them beg for more.
With “Sasha,” it was building the tension. So fucking wonderful.
“But then, she made a mistake,” I said, and the smile on my face faded.
“She fucked up bad. Real bad. That left a scar, Sasha. One that I don’t admit to many people, but one that has never really quite healed.
And while I’m not as vengeful as the press might make me believe, I think retribution is fair for what happened. Wouldn’t you agree, Sasha?”
Sarah gulped. Now, I was silent because I was genuinely curious about what was to transpire.
“What kind of retribution would you want to inflict on this woman?” Sarah said.
“Surely, she’s suffered enough in her own way, no?
If she fucked up as bad as you say she did, she might have her own misgivings about what happened.
Her own regrets. Surely, whatever she’s done to herself can’t be worse than what you could do to her. ”
I laughed. I actually laughed. Sure, that was a nice thing for people to say who chose forgiveness.
I was not so kind.
“If I were to trade an eye for an eye, this woman would not exist,” I said. “But I don’t believe we need to stoop that low, that coldly. I’m tough, but I’m not evil.”
“I know.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Sasha” could not have known that. Was she cracking for good now? Was she done playing the game?
She’d have to say as much. I didn’t let games end until the other party quit.
“Do you now?” I asked. “How so?”
Sasha fidgeted on her feet, shifting her weight. How many ways could a person express nervousness without using their words? It was a question I knew I would have to ponder when I got bored at some point.
“I… I’ve seen the press clippings on you, Cassius,” she said.
“They say you’re the King of Hearts. That you take hearts and break them.
My experience is that those who break hearts have had theirs broken before.
But beneath that cold exterior is a soft opening asking for closure.
People with soft closures aren’t evil, most of the time at least.”
“Most of the time,” I repeated, but I was thinking about Sarah’s words.
She was no fool. You could almost call her too smart for her own good based on what she said just there.
“You are correct, I am the King of Hearts. But a good king knows how to dish out fair punishment. So tell me, Sasha Carter. What would you do to this woman if you were in my shoes? What would you do—”
“Cassius, please, enough. I’m Sarah. Sarah Carpenter. Not Sasha.”
A smile formed on my lips as I folded my arms. Broken, as usual.
“I know,” I said.
“That obvious?”
“I knew it the second ‘Sasha Carter’ appeared on the artist list,” I said with a snort.
“Come now. Do you think I wouldn’t have verified all the artists coming to my grand opening?
Do you think a name like that, with those initials, wouldn’t have caught my eye?
Do you think I became who I am by ignoring gut intuitions like that? ”
Sarah—finally, I didn’t have to pretend she was someone else—nodded. Strangely, she seemed less nervous than when she was pretending to be Sasha. Almost like dropping the veneer of who she was not made it far easier to be who she actually was.
“I figured there was a decent chance you’d uncover the truth,” Sarah said. “I just didn’t think you’d do it on seeing my name. Seeing my face, maybe. But just my name?”
I shrugged. As smart as I was, some things, I supposed, were just beyond description. And it was best to just let the silence fill Sarah’s best guesses.
“In any case, what… what are you going to do?” Sarah said.
“If you recognized my name and wanted to punish me, I doubt you would have let me come here. Yet I’m here.
My art is up. You could make a point of embarrassing me in public, but I think you’re smart enough what that will do to your reputation.
Or, if you care more about it, the business of Allure and Ruby as a whole. ”
Damn, she was good. I knew there was a reason I’d wanted to fuck her daily for several years.
“I think I laid it out pretty clearly,” I said.
“I’ve been waiting years for the chance to serve justice for Virgil.
I’ve watched you flee Vegas when, shall we say, less scrupulous individuals took hold.
I’ve watched you build your career out of your father’s shadow.
And now, I’ve watched you come here. I’m just waiting for the right platform. ”
“Are you?” Sarah said. “That’s a hell of a long time to hold a grudge, Cassius. I understand you want justice for Virgil. I wasn’t kidding when I said I’ve suffered for it, too, though I understand you and your brothers have suffered far worse.”
Far, far, far worse, Sarah.
“But vengeance will only drive you up for so long before it comes crashing down,” she said.
“Call me crazy, but why not just let it go? Let’s just both move on.
You forgive me, I apologize. I’ll keep building my art career, you keep building your casino empire.
Two tracks that once crossed over but henceforth run parallel. What do you say?”
I kept my gaze on Sarah, trying to stare her down, but my mind raced a thousand miles per hour. What an interesting concept. Forgiveness. The idea of truly letting go, of allowing our lives to go in separate paths. I forget her, she forgets me, and we find someone new.
That was never going to fucking happen. I would not let Sarah out of my grasp, most especially now that she was back in Las Vegas, even if only for a night or two.
But…
She had made me consider an angle I had not given much thought to before then. I’d been so fixated on taking her down so forcefully, so bluntly, that I never thought to consider how a slow burn would be so much more delightful. So slow a burn, in fact, that it might feel warm at first. Cozy, even.
Now that would be punishment. Build her up, feign forgiveness, act like I was showing her that I had moved on from Virgil’s death and could see the good in her… only to crush her later on. Everything else was just being mean. This was what unmistakable breaking would look like.
“You know, Sarah, it’s quite rare that someone can change my mind,” I said.
I had to do this carefully. If I just came out and said have dinner with me, she’d read right through that.
Like I said, Sarah was no fool. “I still intend to see you pay for what you did. But. You are surely not the same person who you were all those years ago.”
“No, I am not,” she said, curiosity filling her voice. It wasn’t overt, but I knew her well. I knew her little cues, like how her inflection on “I” indicated an emphasis on being open to something.
“Are you sorry for what you did to Virgil?”
“Yes.”
It was strange how even just hearing that made me feel better. But I was not content with leaving it at that, and I certainly wasn’t going to let Sarah see it.
“I want to hear you say it.”
Sarah folded her hands by her lap, fidgeted some more, and nodded.
“I am sorry for what happened to Virgil, Cassius. I am sorry for what I did to Virgil.”
Better.
Much better.
Now I could feign acceptance of that. Now I could move on to the next step. Now I could begin the gradual warming up before the fires ignited.
“Apology accepted, Sarah,” I said. “It’s been a long time coming.”
I pretended I wanted to change the subject quickly, breaking eye contact with her and looking at her art.
“Your work,” I said. “Have you had a breakthrough yet? Have you achieved the artistic glory that you deserve?”
Sarah shook her head. She seemed more at ease as well, although I still strongly sensed discomfort. Good. Like I said, too sharp a turn would raise suspicions. This needed to be done carefully, in such a manner that even someone like Dante might not see it coming.
“No, not really,” she said. “Truth be told, your manager approving my artwork here is my first breakthrough. I don’t know what will come of it, but it’s a start.”
“People will notice, Sarah,” I said. “I do not allow anything to be on display on my properties that isn’t world class.”
You included, a thought briefly bubbled to mind. While true that she was gorgeous, it was a strange thought. This was someone I wanted to destroy, not to put up on display.
“But you raise a good point,” I continued. “One art gallery display, one showcase is not enough for even a Picasso or Van Gogh to break through. You would need that consistent showcase to break through. And I know how to help with that.”
“Help?” Sarah said.
Suspicion. I had to respond carefully. She could still run away as she had before. She would not defy me; no one was that stupid. She would not defeat me. But choosing not to play was a loss in its own manner, and I would not take a loss of any fucking kind.
“You think you are the only one tormented by the last two decades?” I said. “I have had many thoughts that I wish I did not have. Thoughts that kept me up at night. Thoughts that would be rather unbecoming to admit to you.”
A true statement. Just not in the way Sarah probably thought.
“Consider what I am about to offer you a way to cleanse my soul for all those thoughts,” I said.
“There is a gala in a week’s time at The Cosmopolitan called the Red Court.
I currently do not have a date. I would not struggle to find a date, but believe it or not, my goal in life isn’t to win every red carpet contest.”
I paused. Everything I had said was true, but it had to serve the correct purpose. If Sarah’s paranoia grew, I needed to change my tact.
Fortunately, my supposed pivot seemed to have caught her off guard in the best way possible. She’d probably come in here expecting me to destroy her. Now she might be wondering if I was coming to set her up.
Funny how both were still true.
“You will be my date,” I said. “It will give you the exposure you need to build your career. It will give me the peace of mind that I have atoned for the dark thoughts of the last several years. And after that, we go our separate ways. I take it you will accept… Sarah.”
I didn’t leave it as a question. When I wanted something, the question did not become yes or no. The question became how quickly the other party would agree with me—and they would always agree with me. Sarah would be no different.
Her jaw had all but dropped to the floor. She stood speechless for several seconds. I just affixed my gaze on those gorgeous green eyes, doing my best not to let it drop to her cleavage.
“You are serious?”
“I am always serious, Sarah,” I said. “I always get what I want. Right now, I want you. And I will have you.”