Chapter 18 Sarah
SARAH
Why didn’t I listen to Delilah?
Why didn’t I listen to all my friends?
Why didn’t I listen to myself?
I should have known from the start that getting involved with Cassius Vale, ex or no, billionaire or no, was a mistake.
He could have simply been a billionaire I’d studied from afar, or simply an ex who worked a good but not great job, and in both scenarios, I should have run for the hills.
Cassius Vale, by his nature, was a man who craved power and control, no matter whom it fucking hurt.
Sure, maybe before I came into the picture, it was understandable that he wanted to control the Black Reapers. Maybe.
But I didn’t show up yesterday. He’d entangled himself in my life for a long fucking time now, or at least what felt like a long fucking time. He knew what the Black Reapers name meant to me. And he’d kept going.
There was nothing illegal about what he was doing, but he knew damn well how I’d feel about it.
If there was nothing that could change who he was and how he saw them, then the only thing I could really control was how I acted and how I got involved.
And that meant as soon as we landed, I made a beeline for the private car, leaving Cassius behind.
He did not bother to pursue me. He only waved to the driver, who smartly did not say anything to me.
As we drove down the Las Vegas Strip back to my apartment, a small part of me wondered if I was letting my emotions and my thoughts get the best of me.
In the same way that I had been involved in Virgil’s death but not actually caused it, the Black Reapers had been involved in the chaos and destruction in Las Vegas…
but they had not actually caused it. That was the King’s Men, a group that no longer existed, not even underground.
They weren’t guilt-free. Members had threatened my father, and anyone that wore a club jacket and rode a bike was always going to draw a scowl from me.
And even more than that, even if the Black Reapers still existed, still caused violence, and were still the core party that had ruined my father’s life…
Cassius had been kind to me.
Forget the sex for a moment, great as that was at the time.
Well, easier said than done, but I tried.
No matter what he’d come into the relationship, or whatever the fuck you’d call it, intending to do, he had treated me well.
He’d given my career the jolt it needed to grow.
He’d taken me to multiple galas. He’d flown me to New York City.
Yes, it had gotten weird, dark even at times, but the King of Hearts had treated mine well.
But, well, he’d done exactly what his reputation suggested he would do. He broke my heart. He may not have sabotaged it deliberately, but right now, I felt broken. I saw something that could have been, and instead it no longer existed. Never would exist anytime soon.
Never would exist, period.
It was a damn shame, really. Fuck, that man knew how to blow my fucking mind. Whether in the metaphorical sense, flying me to New York City and then Wyoming, or in the literal sense with his tongue between my legs… he was good. He really was.
But second or third thoughts didn’t matter. Cassius would have a different woman by the end of the night, if not by noon. He and I lived in different worlds, and I had to accept that.
I returned to my hotel room and took stock of what would carry over and what I would leave behind.
Cassius, obviously, was being left behind.
I could always ping Delilah for news gossip and read any tabloids I wished, maybe even the occasional substantive article, but reading about the King of Hearts was very different from being his paired Queen of Hearts.
It was akin to being in the poker game versus watching over someone’s shoulder, a massive discrepancy in value compared to watching literally any other sport.
I’d ruminated enough on the pros and cons of Cassius, and I had little doubt I would continue to do so.
No amount of thinking about him would soften the blow or remove any of the emotion.
My art career would not gain any further momentum, but I liked to think that with the photos from Allure, the various galas we’d gone to, and the connections I’d made, I at least was in a better place than I was a month ago.
I supposed, it being Thanksgiving and all, I should have given thanks for that. Not every artist got that opportunity.
“Well, Cassius, you can’t let a bad thing lie dormant,” I said, the thought of King and the Black Reapers coming to mind, “but thanks, I guess, for helping me make more money.”
Maybe that would be the legacy of Cassius Vale. A great lover, a terrible boyfriend or partner, and the ultimate businessman. Enriching in the moment, painful in the end. I tried not to prescribe too much of my worldview to it; Cassius was clearly doing fine.
I’d leave Las Vegas, and it was a city that was obviously different from what it had been four years ago.
Quieter, for one. More peaceful, definitely.
There would be people who would never understand that the “good old days” weren’t really that good, but people like Delilah, Talia, and Bridget would know.
Oh, fuck.
Leaving Las Vegas meant going from seeing them almost literally whenever to not at all, maybe once a year if they chose to come down to Phoenix.
Fuck!
I hadn’t just built the beginnings of a second chance with Cassius or a higher level to my career.
I’d rediscovered the closeness their friendship provided, something that wasn’t necessarily lost but had definitely fallen by the wayside in the years since our early adulthood.
Actually, they’d never lost it. I had, even if for entirely understandable reasons.
That thought alone almost brought me to tears.
I had to leave Las Vegas, but I couldn’t do it without one more girl’s lunch.
I pulled out my phone, my hand trembling and my eyes on the verge of bursting into tears, and typed out, “Hey everyone, I’m leaving Vegas as soon as possible.
Can we have one more gathering? Maybe Sunday or even early Monday? ”
It only hit me as I sent the message that, it being Thanksgiving weekend, it was very likely everyone else was out of town. Because of course. Delilah had been right. I was the turkey fattened up until the ax came swinging down at the worst time possible.
Or, if you preferred the more “romantic” metaphor, that was why Cassius was the King of Hearts. Because he’d inflated mine, only to choose the exact perfect time to break it into a million pieces.
All because of the Black Reapers.
Who may not even be what they once were—or ever were, if you think for more than two seconds.
Yet it was all but impossible for your brain to function when your heart was broken.