Chapter 9 Cassius
CASSIUS
Who the fuck are you, Sarah Carpenter?
The thought was cold, but it was not meant cruelly or even with suspicion. For most people, it would’ve been confusion, but I did not let myself stay in a confused state for more than a moment. Instead, it was almost admiration.
This was not the girl I had foolishly fallen in love with years before, who had shattered my heart with the death of Virgil. This was not even the artist who had shown up to Las Vegas mere days before, hoping for a lucky break.
This was someone else; a woman who was not afraid to stand up to me, a woman who might have been afraid of confronting her own past but was not afraid of confronting the presence of others.
Who could blame her, really? I wouldn’t pretend that I enjoyed relishing in the past. It was far more enjoyable and thrilling to try to crack someone in the present.
To break.
To break?
Or crack?
Two different outcomes along the spectrum of end goals, but with two very different pathways. One might make Sarah mine. One might make Sarah gone forever.
It was telling that despite what I may have felt upon seeing “Sasha Carter” or upon seeing her in the flesh at Allure, I no longer knew which one I wanted.
I could figure this out on my own, sure. But why the fuck would I do that when I had some of the best help no amount of money could buy?
The Next Night
I stood back on the rooftop of my penthouse, at the same table with the same seating arrangement as mere days before.
Dante, Adrian, and Lucas once more were around me, cigars and glasses of wine in their hands.
For all of us, business was doing even better than we expected, and all of us should have had reason to kick back, relax, and unwind.
But billionaires didn’t fucking do that. We never had time to relax. Relaxing was how weakness crept in.
Still, a good cigar and good company never hurt anyone. Especially when said company included business partners and some of the few men in the world who would shoot it straight to you.
“So, Cassius,” Dante said. “Your little prize. How’s that going? Have you broken her yet?”
To break?
Or crack?
“I’m taking my time with her,” I said as I took a sip of the wine. “I need to make sure she’s well set up before shattering her. You know how it is. What fun is it to break something that can see it coming?”
“You’re taking longer than I would have thought,” Dante said. “She did kill Virgil.”
“As if I needed the reminder,” I growled before Adrian or Lucas could say anything else. “Patience, Dante. Not every problem can be solved by brute force.”
Dante looked like he wanted to say something, but my glare kept his mouth shut.
He was probably the loosest tongue of us all; that didn’t mean anyone would ever mistake him for a Black Reaper, much less a Fallen Saint or some other rogue MC, but of the four of us, he was easily the most likely to make a slip of a statement.
“I will handle it in the timeline I feel is appropriate,” I said.
“Just don’t take too long,” Adrian said. “You take too long, and you’ll forget what you actually set out to accomplish.”
That, I could not disagree with. It was our biggest mistake as young professionals, letting tasks run so long we forgot the original mission. It was not a mistake we made in our professional lives.
It was not a mistake I would make with Sarah. I would not forget my true intent with her.
“And don’t forget to raise the stakes,” Dante said. “She’s getting comfortable with these arts shows and exhibits. It’s in her wheelhouse. You want to punish her? Make her dependent on you. Make her enjoy a lifestyle only you can lavish.”
Curious.
I had not thought of it in terms like that. I’d wanted to keep a distance from her, a distance I was admittedly struggling to keep, but enough of a distance so I could make the eventual shattering that much more decisive. Maybe the solution was to actually bring her closer.
But what risks might that entail?
“If we’ve talked long enough about Cassius’ love life,” Lucas said, “I’d like to bring up a different kind of issue. We are not the only family in town trying to build a new casino empire.”
I would not forget what Dante had suggested. Sarah was like a gnawing piece of food stuck in my teeth I could not easily pick out. I would have to take steps beyond my intuition to resolve it.
But I also welcomed Lucas’ interjection, if for no other reason than it gave me something else to think about—something I was a fucking king at. Crushing the hearts, hopes, and dreams of business rivals.
“That is to be expected,” I said, though Lucas knew I was not shutting the door on his concern. “People are copycats by nature. They see money being made in one area, and they chase it with unhealthy vigor. Who is this new family you speak of?”
“The Morrils,” Lucas said. “And I would not underestimate them. Apparently, their grandparents were oil barons of some kind. Their parents lived off their inheritances, but they’re hungry to make a name for themselves.
Everything I’ve uncovered suggests they are ruthless and, shall we say, unafraid to break social norms to get what they need. Both the legal and implied kind.”
So.
A challenge that might not just be settled beyond the court of law. Interesting.
“And how far along are they?”
“They bought some off-Strip property recently, nothing that directly competes with us but a clear sign they are stepping their feet in our world,” Lucas said.
“I would expect at some point attempts to smear us in the press or to plant ill-acting customers. We do what we must; they do whatever is possible.”
I looked at Adrian and Dante. Lucas appeared to have informed them before they came up here of the concern.
“I would be more than happy to reach out once more to Crush and Prince,” Dante said. “Shit. Let me reach out to any of the Reapers, and—”
I cut off Dante with a simple raised hand.
“If we ran to the bikers after every possible threat, we would be in their debt,” I said. “And let me remind you, we are in no one’s fucking debt.”
But, I thought, we will keep them in mind as a means to fight dirty if we must.
“So be it,” Dante said, almost sounding disappointed.
Part of me wanted to tell the man to go take boxing lessons if he was so desperate to let off some steam, but he was better than that.
Just because he had a higher tolerance for violence and aggression did not always mean it manifested in violence; if anything, it was to our business’ benefit that it manifested as the “bad cop” in our business deals.
Conversation continued forth from there, with the topic moving to New Year’s plans. The possibility of spending it at the Ruby was broached, but Adrian preferred something more private and glitzier. The topic, frankly, bored me, and my mind wandered back to what Dante had suggested about Sarah.
I didn’t need to keep her at arm’s length, only very gradually letting her in.
No, I needed to keep her as close as possible.
Let her feel like she was as much a part of my life as I was.
What was the phrase? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer?
Maybe there should be an add-on at the end, something like “your enemies closer, and your targets closest of all.”
I smiled at the thought. Fortunately, my brothers thought I was smiling at something they said about going to Hawaii for New Year’s Eve. Whatever kept them talking and allowed me to think in my own world.
What was the next best step, then?
Well, come to think of it, in a week’s time, I had another gala to go to in New York City. I’d be flying private, of course.
What if Sarah were to join me for that? It would just be me, her, a flight attendant, and a pilot on the plane. The latter two would have to let us do whatever we wanted. I could do whatever I wanted to make her feel close to me.
Thinking like that, the risk was obvious.
If I got so close to Sarah that I actually forgot to destroy her, then…
That couldn’t possibly fucking happen.
And yet…
Had I not told myself I would embarrass Sarah when I realized she’d arrived as Sasha Carpenter?
Had I not told myself I would shame Sarah at The Red Court when she came with me?
Had I not told myself I would destroy Sarah at some point over the course of the weekend?
Three possibilities, three swings and misses. No, not even—I’d never swung the bat in an attempt to break her. I had struck out looking.
Hmm.
Perhaps there was more to how I felt about Sarah than I was letting myself even realize.
I would have to do something rarely done—I would have to set myself reminders, give myself tasks to make sure I did not forget my original mission with Sarah.
She had killed Virgil—I could not fucking forget that!
I let out a sigh. A too loud one, apparently, as Dante gave me a look. Fortunately, neither Adrian nor Lucas seemed to notice. But I told myself I had to do better. Bad enough that I might be losing my mind; to lose the confidence of my brothers would be unforgivable.
But by the time my brothers stood up to leave a couple of hours later, I had my plans in place. The instant that they were out of sight, I pulled out my phone and texted Sarah.
“Meet me at Reid’s private terminal at 8 a.m. tomorrow. We’re going to another gala. Do not be even one second late.”
She would not refuse. She knew better than to refuse. Even though her career had already gotten a nice bump from the people she’d met and the press that would invariably trickle out in the coming days, I could still ruin her in a heartbeat.
But as tonight had shown, a heartbeat wasn’t what I was going for. I was going for something longer.
You might even say I was going for creating the feeling of a lifetime of being intertwined before I got what I truly wanted.