Chapter 8 Sarah
SARAH
Every part of my mind told me to run the hell away.
But every part of my heart told me to stay, to see which Cassius was the real one—the one who projected strength and steely resolve, or the one that seemed to quietly enjoy little moments with me.
The one who scolded me for not being PR friendly enough?
Or the one who had spent an entire evening with me, and was now suddenly offering to spend even more time with me?
It was a mystery wrapped in an enigma layered underneath power and ruthlessness.
I knew that sticking around would risk getting burned so badly, I might never recover from the scars.
But I also knew it might offer a reward that would change my life forever, and for reasons well beyond any money or prestige he could offer.
My mind was spinning. I was tired, beyond exhausted. I couldn’t think straight, and I had a feeling that even if I hadn’t put on artistic airs for the last three hours, I might not be able to think clearly in Cassius’ presence.
But while I wanted to be guided by my heart, I couldn’t ignore what my mind was warning me. I had to get space. I had to think clearly.
“I would like that,” I said, “but, I want us to resume tomorrow. I want—”
“As you wish,” Cassius said, so abruptly and cutting me off so swiftly I almost just kept talking right over him.
It was more than like a switch got flipped; that implied I knew what flipping the switch would entail. This was more like shutting the power off; Cassius simply stared at me, but it was as if there was nothing behind those eyes, nothing that valued me.
I knew that wasn’t true, but I had to think deeply and stare intently to understand that it wasn’t true. Yet at the same time, this was no mask of Cassius. The man didn’t become the billionaire he was without knowing when to abruptly stop being sentimental.
“You may leave now, Sarah,” Cassius said. “I have given you the night I promised you. If you failed to build anything from it, that is of your own mistake.”
“So—”
“I don’t repeat myself,” Cassius warned. “I will make sure there is someone to escort you home by the time you get downstairs. Go.”
I stood, but I never took my eyes off Cassius.
Surely, in this moment, when I showed I would not bluff, that I could walk away, he would break.
Yet was I not bluffing as well? Was I also not pretending I could play it cool, when in reality the man’s gaze could petrify me with attraction like no other?
I tore myself from his gaze and made my way to the door. I did not look back. I knew that if I did, I would not be leaving that room.
But something told me that even though I did not look back, I would be back with him at some point.
Two hours later, I sat in my hotel room. True to Cassius’ word, a valet driver had come and taken me back to my place. The ending of the night… it wasn’t anticlimactic, but it felt strangely incomplete. Like there was a part of the game that Cassius was surely playing that hadn’t been revealed.
But as I sat on the edge of the bed, barefoot, drained, and trying to metaphorically catch my breath, I couldn’t help but get caught up in everything that had happened.
Just because it had ended abruptly didn’t mean the whole night hadn’t been a tense dance of figuring out what was real, what was a setup, and what the end result would be.
And you know what?
I hadn’t done so bad for myself, if I could have said so.
I had maintained my composure in public, smiling for those Cassius introduced me to and looking nice for the cameras. I had not wilted in his face, though he had done his best to bend me to his will. I acted like I belonged, because though I might not have in wealth, in artistic value, I did.
And it was still unsettling.
What was Cassius really aiming for anyways?
The way he touched me, the way he brushed up against me…
it could have been a wicked, cruel setup for something terrible to come.
There was no denying that Cassius could break his enemies in a way that would make the Black Reapers look simple-minded, generous even.
There was no denying what I had done to his little brother and that years apart had done nothing to ease Cassius’ pain.
But the thing about being an artist was that it made me empathetic.
It made me good at reading people and recognizing both their masks and what they were hiding beneath those masks.
I felt quite sure that Cassius had a mask on, and that beneath that mask was at least a curiosity about me, if not something more. Maybe—
The door to my room opened.
“Who’s there?” I yelled. I hurried to my purse, scrambling to find some pepper spray. Whoever it was hadn’t bothered to knock. That didn’t exactly suggest room service.
I walked out to the entrance, holding my purse close to me.
It was him.
Standing there, dressed in the same suit, just without the bow tie, his eyes gazing into mine. He stood there as if he belonged there, as if it was nothing to walk into my room unannounced. Briefly, I wondered how he had gotten around the lock, and shuddered at the various implications.
The corner of his lips turned up ever so slightly at my shiver. I bit my lip and forced myself to stand tall.
“Come with me,” he said. “Now.”
He turned around and walked to the right. I hesitated only long enough to make sure that the person who had just appeared before me was in fact Cassius Vale and not an impostor or, God forbid, a figment of my imagination. No, it was not.
I followed him. I had to hurry; I didn’t even have time to put shoes on.
I was running barefoot in the hallways of the hotel, trying to catch the billionaire who had walked into my room like it was his own house.
If ever there was a scene that was a “you had to be there” moment, it was this.
God, what Talia, Delilah, and Bridget would say when they heard this story.
Part of my decision was knowing Cassius wouldn’t physically hurt me, nor would he put me in a spot of physical danger. Well, sharp edges of the carpet aside.
We got into a black car waiting for us at the valet. Cassius didn’t say a word as we made our way to the Ruby, his hotel, his world. I thought to ask him questions, but a man didn’t say “come with me” if he didn’t intend to reveal everything in due time. That was what I told myself, anyways.
A couple of times that I caught him looking at me, it looked like he was undressing me in his mind.
Damn, the way he really gazed at me, I wondered if he might undress me in the literal sense in the back of this car.
That was a dangerous concept—not because I feared it, but because I feared being consumed by the thought. If he put his face between my legs…
Think of art. Of Phoenix. Of anything but that!
I somewhat succeeded, but thoughts of Cassius’ prowess interjected themselves every so often.
Mercifully, the drive to Ruby was short, and when we exited, Cassius continued to move as if oblivious to my lack of shoes.
I doubted he was truly oblivious; more likely, he was doing this on purpose, a test to see how well I’d follow.
If this wasn’t passing with flying colors, nothing was.
We entered a private hallway and got on an elevator that only had five buttons—P, L, 2, 100, and 101.
A private elevator? I almost asked—elevators usually made crowds quiet, but they also made couples talk more—but Cassius kept his gaze ahead, his mouth hardly opening at all.
He seemed almost machine-like when he wasn’t looking at me, but when his eyes rested upon mine, there was nothing mechanical about them.
Only intensely fiery, passionate, and all-consuming.
The doors opened to “101” and Cassius did something I did not expect.
He held his hand out, as if encouraging me to step forward. The man never let anyone go before him—why was I suddenly different? I had a feeling I knew the answer, but…
The air around me suddenly felt cooler than before.
We were outside. No, not just outside—we were on the top floor of the Ruby.
I saw an opening to what looked like the second floor of a penthouse suite, and I quickly surmised we had arrived at his place.
His place. Not just a place, not just an outlook spot reserved for private rich folk.
Cassius Vale’s place.
I suddenly felt an overwhelming heat washing over me, the heat of erotic thrill that came in the buildup just before something intoxicating was about to happen. I all but felt his hands running over my shoulders, then my hips, then… between my legs… then…
I turned around. Cassius had not moved. He still had that smug smile on his face.
“This is your house?” I said, immediately feeling stupid. Home, maybe. A house? The moment had gotten to me and made me stupid.
Cassius chuckled.
“Part of my home,” he said. “Take in the views, Sarah. You don’t get views like this every day.”
Not like you do, I thought, but this time I kept my mouth shut, afraid of saying something stupid.
I suddenly became aware of the soft jazz music playing through speakers I could not locate. The floodlights were dim, somehow able to create an intimate feeling a hundred and one stories up. Beyond, the glittering lights of the Las Vegas Strip provided the backdrop.
It was such an unreal experience, so far beyond anything I’d ever had before—so far beyond what I even expected tonight—that I barely bothered to ask why Cassius had brought me here.
If he’d done so to seduce me, it was working.
I was willing to submit to a moment like this.
Maybe if things escalated, I might hit the pause button.
But for now? After the coldness of leaving The Red Court? If nothing else, at least Cassius was looking at me once more with a smile and not an icy stare.