Chapter 4
SARAH
Was he serious?
This was Cassius Vale? The billionaire, the bully, the brute force offering me a chance to elevate my career?
A part of me refused to believe this could be real. A large part of me, actually. The press clippings about King of Hearts… the threats I had heard in the immediate aftermath of Virgil’s death… the rumors that spread as my father failed to corral the criminal King…
But then, a part of me thought more deeply.
Cassius Vale could be cruel, blunt, and beyond forceful. He would not kill a man for a dollar, but he might very well plant a damning press article for a penny. He would not hold a woman hostage for power, but he might very well hold her in his hand for the fun of it.
But the man I had dated several years ago was not all cold, manipulative, and cruel.
He could be surprisingly soft, tender even.
His desire for a family was real, or at least had been real, and when he said he loved me back then, I had never doubted it.
True, we were both so much younger and so much more foolish, but I didn’t think people changed that badly.
Scars formed and wounds layered over that softer side of us, but that softer side never vanished entirely.
Don’t delude yourself. He’s a billionaire who will only take you to the Red Court if he thinks it will benefit him. He’s not doing this for your sake; you just happen to benefit from it.
And? You’re not exactly living with the rich and famous.
You’re barely making ends meet. Tonight was the first night you explicitly told Cassius you were sorry for what happened to Virgil.
Even if this is all a game to him, some big setup, don’t you think you owe it to yourself to take advantage of what he’s offering?
Cassius never flinched as these thoughts ran through my mind. I didn’t want him to do that, but I couldn’t pretend I didn’t find it intoxicating. The longer I stared at him, the more I felt myself leaning toward taking the deal. So much so… thinking was difficult. Very, very…
“Give me a moment, Cassius,” I said. “I need to use the bathroom.”
“Of course,” he said, not a hint of suspicion in his voice.
It was obvious he knew I wasn’t going to actually use the bathroom. But he wouldn’t let me know it was obvious to him. Billionaires didn’t become billionaires by wearing their hearts on their sleeves, even if they were the kings of them.
The bathroom was not too far from where my exhibit had been set up, and I stepped inside. Hardly any time had passed since my entry—even though speaking with Cassius felt like an eternity—so I was alone with my thoughts.
Two things had become abundantly true, and a third thing was of great curiosity to me.
First, Cassius could not be trusted to not have ulterior motives.
I didn’t think he necessarily wanted to publicly shame me in front of a crowd; even if he hated my guts, he didn’t ruin people by mocking them publicly.
Often, people who fell to him in business or in feuds didn’t even realize the salvo had come from him until it was too late.
But just because my undoing would directly come from some place other than his mouth didn’t mean he wouldn’t do it.
A man like Cassius didn’t just forget the death of his youngest brother.
Two, this was an absolute gift to my career if I played my cards right.
Artists always joked about having billionaire patrons to fund their lifestyle so they wouldn’t have to get real jobs.
Well, that joke had turned into my life here.
I had to be careful; if Cassius so much as caught a whiff that I was going beyond the terms of the deal, his quiet, behind-the-scenes monster might not be so subtle.
He’d let me do whatever we agreed to, but anything else…
That just meant that before I left this room, I had to negotiate carefully. I had to make sure I knew exactly what I wanted to ask for and leave no loopholes for him to exploit. I had to make deals with someone who had made deals to the tune of a ten-figure bank account. Easier said than done.
The third thing, however, most occupied my mind.
What if Cassius was serious?
Or, what if Cassius was serious and felt more than he was letting on?
The rational part of me dismissed the idea as ludicrous. Cassius could date someone far more famous, far richer, far more beautiful than me with just a phone call or text if he wanted. I might have been a part of his past, but I hadn’t been a part of his present in years.
And yet…
And yet, he’d just spent what felt like an hour fixating that cold, steely gaze upon me.
The most valuable thing to a billionaire was not money, it was time, and Cassius had chosen to spend his time with me.
He might have controlled the conversation, he might have controlled my responses, but he’d chosen to fixate on controlling me.
There were many other far easier options that could have satisfied his desires for money or sex.
It had to be because of the oddity of seeing me and realizing I’d used a fake name to not alert anyone.
But the thought enthralled me in ways I almost didn’t feel comfortable with. Not in that I didn’t like it, but in that I knew it could spiral badly if I didn’t handle it well. My life could be ruined even if almost no one else knew about it.
There was only one way forward that didn’t provoke Cassius’ ire, didn’t trap me into a game I couldn’t get out of, and still allowed my art career to flourish.
I had to challenge him.
That was different from trying to beat him. Cassius never wanted to be beaten, and the instant he caught a whiff that he might be beaten, the monster in him came out. But challenge him? Negotiate in a way that made him think?
That was almost intoxicating to him. He enjoyed little games of give and take. He relished seeing what he could get out of you while giving up as little as he could. He was no fool; he wouldn’t refuse to give up something.
I looked in the mirror and smiled. Yes. Play Cassius’ game on his terms with my requirements. And even if the rules of the game got broken, as long as I didn’t appear a threat to him, the consequences were likely to be small, temporary at worst.
I walked out of the bathroom with a small smile on my face; I had to make sure it wasn’t too strong.
Cassius, of course, still had that steel gaze, and I almost just dropped to my knees and said I’d take whatever deal he wanted.
But no matter what a man like Cassius said, outright domination with no resistance would have bored him.
Conquering a powerful foe was far more rewarding than defeating a pushover that someone without billions of dollars could run over.
“I’m intrigued by your offer,” I said. “But I want to make some terms clear.”
“Of course, I would rather you be upfront with how you want this to go,” Cassius said, but there was a hint of a warning in his voice, reminding me who had the power here.
A part of me said to ignore it; it was all part of the game…
but Cassius had grown up, too, from before.
What was playful to him years ago might now be a nuisance, an aggravation.
“If this is just a date for a gala with the intent of going our separate ways,” I began, “then I want to make it very clear that this is not the beginning of a real relationship. Which means that we will not engage in actions that would escalate anything.”
This was risky. Partially because I was using this to get more out of him.
Partially because if he just accepted exactly what I asked for, I wasn’t sure it was what I really wanted.
“I will hold your arm for any photo ops or any carpet walks, anything of that nature,” I said. “But I will not hold your hand. I will not hug you. And I will certainly not do… well, anything past that.”
A very long silence followed. I folded my arms and told myself I had no choice but to sit with the awkwardness. I would not fold, no matter how much Cassius pressured me with quiet. I might give in to holding hands or even hugging if Cassius walked away, but—
“So closed off, Sarah,” Cassius said. “This is very unlike you.”
“You said it yourself, we go our separate ways after. This is just to cleanse your soul. Would you really want to muddy it by doing something more?”
“In private, of course not, don’t be foolish,” he said, just a tad faster than I would’ve guessed. “But as you are well aware as an artist, perception is reality. I need to show up to this gala with a presentable date.”
Need.
Curious, I thought. Cassius almost never said he needed anything, a true statement even in our youth. He didn’t even seem to notice the slip, but I sure did. I was too focused on the moment.
“I will tell you what, as it is no skin off my back,” he said. “I will sponsor a solo exhibit at the Red Court for you, and I will make sure you have an interview and are presented to potential buyers of your work. But, in return, you must not set limits on how we present ourselves at this gala.”
Talk about a deal with the devil.
A solo exhibit at the Red Court was the closest thing to a guaranteed ticket to an artistic career.
Whatever happened at Allure tonight, there was always the risk of this being a one-off event.
A one-hit wonder, if you will, in my world.
I’d almost certainly have some interested patrons, but without repeat appearances, I’d slowly fade out of artistic conversation.
But show up at the Red Court?
On the other hand, no matter what either of us said, there was some things money could not buy out, could not suppress, and an obvious fact was one them: that what happened in public often had a way of influencing what happened in private.
Holding hands in public with a pretty smile wouldn’t just get Cassius good press; it might ignite some old sparks in us.
Hugging Cassius in public with some kind words meant to be overheard wouldn’t just make Cassius look good; it would create terribly potent temptations for both of us.
An evening with Cassius wouldn’t just benefit both of us; it might turn into a full night if the cards fell where they needed to.
Where they might.
And…
Well, it wasn’t as cut and dry a decision as I had hoped. I should have had a healthy fear of getting too involved with Cassius, and a part of me did. But that wasn’t the part making the decisions.
And frankly, not even the sensible side of me could disagree with the fact that this would be a massive boon to my business.
“That is a deal I will make,” I said.
Cassius did not move his head. He didn’t even move his lips. Had I folded too soon? Had I made it too easy on him? Would he get bored and—
He held his hand out, his elbow close to his side, making it so I would have to move in.
“Shake on it, Sarah,” he said. “Put your word on the line. Agree, Sarah Carpenter.”
God, the way he said my name, the way he could send shivers down my spine with his tone alone…
I looked down at his hand. Firm, strong, powerful—if anything, it would have only gotten stronger in the years since. The only thing more potent to a billionaire than a relationship was a contract, which this handshake would all but be. Once I took his hand in mine and shook…
“Well?”
I gulped. Take the plunge, and I might be showing some weakness. I was putting my career in Cassius’ hands, which was one step closer to putting my heart in his hands.
What would the King of Hearts do with one that he’d once held softly? Tenderly? Lovingly?
Would he respect it? Nurture it?
Or crush it in a way that seemed even beyond his most disdainful manner?
Too much was on the line. Too much could be had.
I extended my hand and shook it.
Heavens, the spark that flew through my body as our skin made contact for the first time in years defied both description and expectation.
I had expected to feel something based on how the conversation had gone so far.
I had not expected to feel such tingling and desire—yes, desire—that I wanted to move my body forward, press into him, and see what happened there.
Not here, I told myself. Not in public. Cassius would never allow it.
And besides, I reminded myself as I regained control of myself, this was not a romantic contract. This was a business deal. I make Cassius look good, I help my career, he feels forgiveness, I feel absolution, and that was it.
Right?
“Very good, Sarah,” he said with a smirk. “You will be mine that weekend. And I very much look forward to it.”
I swallowed. I did too, and I could barely avoid admitting it. I just nodded back.
“I have other matters to attend to now,” Cassius said, looking at his watch. “I will contact you later.”
“How?” I asked. “I don’t have your number, or you mine.”
Cassius, already starting to walk away, laughed.
“You don’t think I have the means of getting that if I really want to?”
He did not elaborate. I should have remembered that Cassius always had the means of getting what he wanted.
The question was now what did Cassius really want out of a weekend at the Red Court.
And, frankly, what did I really want?
Because I had a feeling that no matter how much I tried to deny it, no matter how much I said internally and out loud that it was just business… that spark upon touching his hand sure suggested there was more that I might have wanted.