Chapter 10 Sarah
SARAH
Long ago, in what felt like a prior life, I had learned never to question an order from Cassius.
Not because I was some subservient, weak woman who did what he wanted, but because there was always a payoff to be had.
What could sound like an utterly cruel demand or a hint of a setup could turn into the most romantic weekend in months or, at the very least, a wonderful dinner and an unforgettable adventure.
But so much had transpired and so much had left me in a tailspin, both in the long time since and the very recent past, that I was left wondering what the hell was happening now.
The key phrase in all this, of course, was “in some fashion.” I wasn’t yet willing to trust that this wasn’t some ploy to pull me in and shatter me.
True, we’d had some moments of intense attraction, incredible curiosity, and even unnerving touch in the last week.
But one thing I’d learned from art was that the greatest tragedies emerged from the highest of stakes.
Cassius might not have intuited that from art, but he sure as hell would have from business.
But all that said, who was I to pass up a private flight to another gala? Who was I to give myself another opportunity to revisit the magic of my youth, now with several more zeros on the price tag?
Who was I to say no to Cassius?
Unlike the previous days, when Cassius had arranged all my travel, I had to get an Uber to the terminal myself.
It seemed like a test of Cassius’—how badly did I want this private jet trip?
It wasn’t the first time he’d done such a thing, even under normal circumstances; he’d even told me he’d tested his brothers like this from time to time.
The Uber driver inquired a bit about the private plane, but I kept mum, simply saying that a rich friend that I couldn’t hope to keep up with wanted to go some place.
That wasn’t entirely false. It just dramatically undersold the truth.
The Uber dropped me off about ten minutes before eight. I went up to the front gate, but before I could speak to anyone, a black vehicle pulled up to me. A window rolled down; it was not Cassius.
“Come with me for the Vale flight,” he said.
A little unnerving, but again, I knew how Cassius worked.
I got in the vehicle, and it drove about a quarter-mile inward to a small jet, maybe big enough for six people outside the flight crew.
The vehicle stopped, the driver saying nothing, as if expecting me to know what to do.
I got out and looked at my watch. It was seven minutes before eight.
And now I’d have to wait.
At least it was November in Vegas, not a particularly brutal time of year, but this move was still deliberate.
Cassius didn’t want to hurt me, but he wanted to remind me he was in charge.
My time was less valuable than his, in a sense.
He would arrive when he would arrive, but I was expected to arrive in time to meet his needs.
It should have bothered me more than it did. It wasn’t without annoyance, but again, I knew the payoff.
A minute before eight, another black car approached the plane.
I didn’t need X-ray vision to know Cassius was inside that vehicle, arriving on the dot for when he said he would come.
The only question was whether anyone else might be in that vehicle.
If any of his brothers had joined, it would have made things uncomfortable.
The vehicle parked, and Cassius emerged, wearing sunglasses, a quarter-zip gray jacket, and black slacks.
Somehow, he looked taller than I remembered him being despite having seen him less than two days ago; maybe the sunrise made him appear bigger than he was.
Or maybe his presence was such that I could not help but view him in a literal bigger light than before.
“Sarah Carpenter,” Cassius said, doing something I never imagined—he grinned.
He fucking grinned?
It wasn’t a goofy, out-of-control grin. It was a little subdued. Cassius was never going to be confused for a thespian. But a smile?
“Glad you could join me,” he said, putting his arm around me—around my lower back—as he went forward. I shivered despite the moderate temperature outside. Cassius surely recognized the involuntary reaction. “Come. Not a moment to waste.”
“Of course not,” I said, trying to steady my legs.
This unusual warmth from Cassius had not been a curveball I’d been expecting. To be forced to wait? To be given the cold shoulder? To be surprised unannounced? All expected.
Warmth, a smile, and physical touch like this? I would have sooner expected my art career to have taken off with no outside help.
It would have made me suspicious if I had had the wherewithal to ponder. But the way goosebumps were taking over my skin, the way my heart was thudding in my chest, the way I had to take every step consciously lest I tumble and look like an absolute fool…
There was no rational thinking. Not in the presence of Cassius Vale. Not in the presence of a warm and friendly Cassius Vale.
I eventually found my seat on the jet and sat down, fumbling with the seat belt as I buckled myself in.
Cassius sat across from me, buckling his with ease.
He removed his sunglasses and affixed that powerful gaze upon me, this time matched with a smile.
It was still a smile of power, a smile of control, but it no longer seemed to be hiding the wicked sense of dominance from before.
Or, no, that was just me wanting to think that. Maybe? Maybe the morning without coffee? Who the hell knew—I was spinning mentally, but in a way that wasn’t terrible.
“Do you have any idea where we are going?” Cassius said. He folded his leg over the other, brushing mine in the process. It didn’t matter that we both had pants on; I felt the erotic shiver go through me all the same.
“No,” I admitted. Pretending otherwise was putting myself in a deeper and deeper trap.
“And how does that make you feel, Sarah?” He still had a smile on, but now he leaned forward. In a plane this compact, that didn’t leave much breathing room. He wasn’t so close that he might accidentally kiss me, but if not for his hands on his laps, they might be resting on my knees.
“Curious,” I said, not wanting to admit a little bit of a fear. “It’s not anything within driving distance. If it’s tonight, and it’s eight a.m. now, we probably wouldn’t be departing to Phoenix or Los Angeles. So, maybe something east coast?”
The words simmered in the air for a second before Cassius leaned forward. And, sure enough, he put his hands on my knees.
Then they slid up my thighs.
Not all the way up my thighs; not even to the halfway point. But just enough to leave my whole body quivering and wanting to melt into the seat. God, I had to fight to keep control of my mind, lest I fantasize about those hands running up my thighs, between my legs, controlling my pleasure like…
“Your intuition is very good, Sarah,” Cassius said, giving a gentle squeeze. “I wonder what else you might be intuiting.”
I gulped. Cassius raised his eyes, one of the few times he’d given an indication of his awareness.
“That this plane is pretty tight.”
“By design,” Cassius said. “Commercial airplanes are of course too tight, but they get something wrong that trains get very right. You should want to face the people you are traveling with. It’s the only way to truly get to know them. Wouldn’t you agree… Sarah?”
I gulped again. I looked around; there was one bathroom behind us, and what looked like space for the flight attendant and maybe a small kitchen up front, but there were only four other seats. None of them were out of sight of Cassius, and none of them were occupied.
So naturally, my mind went straight to us doing terribly inappropriate things on those seats. Why? Why was I letting myself indulge these dangerous thoughts?
“Now,” Cassius said as the engine roared to life, “buckle up. It might be a bit of a bumpy ride.”
“Because of turbulence?”
Cassius licked his lips. God help me…
“Among other reasons.”
Despite being half-convinced that Cassius would finger me or do something far more sexual on the takeoff, Cassius never went further than when he had slid his hands about a third of the way up my thighs.
Oh, he didn’t stop teasing me; he’d brush a hand on my knee, run his hands through my hair when he stood up, keep that intensely cold look on me.
The teasing combined with a lack of payoff left me spinning even more by the time the plane started to descend a few hours later.
I had to look out the window to distract myself—and to actually find out where we were.
By the looks of it, New York City. The Mecca of art and entertainment, at least except for Hollywood’s grip on video production.
“When did you decide we’d be spending the weekend in New York City?”
“Sometime last night,” Cassius said with a shrug.
“And do you plan anything in advance?”
Cassius chuckled. It wasn’t a full-on laugh, but it sure was something.
“Depends on what you are asking about. Do I plan trips like this? Not really. With my wealth, a trip like this would be like you going to the park. Do I plan other things? I’ve been planning parts of my life since I was nineteen, Sarah.”
The age when we first met. No, that had to be a coincidence. He was undoubtedly referring to the business empire he and his brothers had built from the ground up; he might have had plans for me, but there was no way that plan had remained the same since nineteen.
I knew better than to probe further and just nodded my agreement. I wondered what this weekend would entail—and I also wondered how the sleeping arrangements would work. He couldn’t go home, and I couldn’t go back to the hotel room I booked myself. We were going to be forced to share the same room.
“You might be wondering what we’ll do this weekend,” Cassius said.
I kept my gaze on the emerging Manhattan skyline, not wanting to show him that he’d practically read my mind.
“We have a gala tonight, like the others. There will be more people, richer people, but it shouldn’t be anything too different.
We have a hotel suite, but don’t you worry.
Your dignity will remain intact; you will have your own bedroom.
I am simply raising the stakes this weekend. ”
“How?”
That was a stupid question, and I regretted it the instant I asked it.
The more of the mystery I tried to dissolve, the less fun it would be for Cassius—and the more likely it would be the plug would get pulled on this great adventure.
Or great nightmare, depending on the ending Cassius has in mind.
If he has even made up his mind on how he wants this to end.
If you two even share the same definition of what makes for a dream and what makes for a nightmare.
“Have you ever seen a press more ravenous than the New York press?” he said. “The paparazzi in Los Angeles, perhaps, but they are a bunch of mindless skirt chasers. The press in New York is ruthless and intelligent. If your art does not stand the test, they will call out both of us.”
“My art?”
Cassius chuckled, this time in a more condescending manner.
“Did you think we’d fly all the way out here and not show off something you have?”
I smiled, but inside I was panicking. There was something to be said for gradual exposure; it was true that no artist got to control when they hit it big.
Some did it out of the gate, some went nowhere for years before exploding, and some never exploded.
But all agreed that in an ideal world, you’d make mistakes while small before being ready for the big time.
Vegas was about as big as I was willing to go leading into this. New York City was the Mecca, but it could also be hell. I was… now not just nervous. Now I was panicked.
“Sarah,” Cassius said.
But I barely heard him. Panic was starting to consume me. I wouldn’t have a panic attack, I wasn’t quite like that, but God, I was nervous. They would be ruthless, they would be—
“Sarah!”
I snapped back. Cassius had his hand on mine; I hadn’t even noticed in the anxiety consuming my mind.
“Do you trust me?”
The honest answer? No, but that didn’t mean I distrusted him. It just meant I didn’t know enough. And the only way to know enough was to have a retrospective, a time to look back on.
But so far… he at least merited having trust for gala exhibitions, if not for what happened behind closed doors.
“Yes,” I said.
Cassius squeezed my hand. The plane landed, he let go and leaned back, and waited for the plane to slow down before standing up. Just like that, he had turned his attention to the flight attendant and the pilot.
But he’d at least left me reassured that if my downfall came, it would not be in public.
I wasn’t sure if that was better than being destroyed in his suite or not.