Chapter 23 Cassius
CASSIUS
There had been many things that, I suspected, had subconsciously softened how I felt about Sarah over the past couple of months.
Her artwork, certainly, had had an effect on me.
The gradual truth about how she was not truly responsible for Virgil’s death had always affected me.
Even the time with her, in brief moments like how she smiled or how she would respond to me, had gradually lowered my loathing toward her bit by bit.
But standing there, at the entrance to the graveyard, watching her sob before Virgil’s grave, fucked with my head in ways I hadn’t imagined.
I almost began to see her as someone not just worth no longer destroying, but actively trying to get back.
Not even my brothers visited Virgil’s grave that often; we all mourned his loss, and all of us thought of him at least once a day, but for many of us, revisiting his grave was just too fucking painful. That was true for me.
Sarah was not a Vale, but she had been the last one to see him alive.
For her to go there, to visit his grave, and weep—not knowing I was watching her…
there was a sincerity in her that was difficult to find from any perspective, never mind a billionaire who couldn’t trust other people.
There was a raw, real love in that, even if it wasn’t the kind of lustful passion that had driven the last couple of months.
I didn’t know what to make of it, so much so that when she turned to see me, I was struck by a feeling I almost never got.
Uncertainty.
I didn’t know whether to speak to her. I didn’t know whether to let her be, to let her process her grief in silence.
That’s what I ended up doing, yes, but it was more of a default state than a deliberate decision.
Had I seen any one of my brothers, we would have talked.
Had I seen an employee or an old friend of Virgil’s, I might have talked.
But because it was Sarah, I simply watched and let her go by, unsure of what to say. I even watched her walk back to her car; she never once turned around. She probably knew that I was watching, but I doubted she knew just how much her presence had moved me.
And it wasn’t even like I could turn on the cold businessman persona, because what was I going to do, be gruff to the tombstone of my youngest brother? What a fucking shitty thing to do. I would sooner surrender my business empire than forget the legacy of Virgil Vale.
Instead, once Sarah had fully disappeared, I went over to Virgil’s tombstone.
I kneeled down, put a hand on his grave, and drew in a breath.
I hadn’t cried since the very first news of his death—not even at his funeral—and today would not be the day that streak ended.
But that did not mean that being here didn’t deeply move me.
“Hey, brother,” I said. “Been a bit, huh?”
I chuckled to myself. I didn’t believe in ghosts, and the idea of an afterlife was a question I didn’t want to think about too much. But I liked to think Virgil heard everything I said, even if he couldn’t speak back to me.
“Listen, your older brothers, they’ve gotten themselves into some shit,” I said. “Your oldest one keeps trying to stay distant from the real rough and tumble of life. He had thought that because he was so stupidly wealthy, he could buy distance. Turns out, that’s a fucking stupid idea.”
I snorted. I looked around quickly; there was still no one within probably several hundred yards of me.
“Your older brother,” I continued, “he wants the best things in life, but the best things in life aren’t things, they’re people.
He tried to put distance between himself and one of the best people in his life.
Then he wanted to close that distance. But sometimes, to move toward one attachment, you have to sever other, less meaningful ones.
And your older brother was a fucking idiot who couldn’t let go of the idea of the Reapers. ”
God, put that way—would I rather have Sarah or the Black Reapers?—it made me look even more pathetic. I would not let myself drown in misery, but I had to acknowledge I’d poured the pool of misery in the first place.
“So now he’s trying to do right,” I said. “I…”
I swallowed.
“I hope I’m doing right,” I said. “I’m ready to live as you did, Virgil. Full of laughter and cheer and fucking stupid jokes and love.”
I chuckled. Not loudly, not for long, but I did chuckle all the same.
“You told us all to wind down, to loosen up, to not be so cold when the world offered warmth. I don’t know what I’ll have to do to get that opportunity again, Virgil.
But I guess being here makes me realize that if I should get another chance with Sarah—a third fucking chance, believe it or not—I can’t fuck it up.
I can’t prioritize anything but my family.
I can’t put money or power or strength above her. I have to have a place for her.”
A gentle breeze brushed over me. I was never one to believe in signs like this, as I said. But the breeze did provide a nice, relaxing feeling that made it easier to buy everything I had just told myself. My body could relax, which would allow my mind to relax, which would allow my spirit to relax.
Silly? Maybe. Did I believe it? Absolutely.
Then my phone buzzed in my pocket.
I wasn’t crass enough to answer it in front of Virgil’s grave, but after it rang three distinct times, it was a clear signal someone was trying to get my attention. And given everything going on in the last forty-eight hours, the possibilities were worth stepping back from.
I patted the top of the tombstone one more time, told Virgil, “I love you, brother,” and then walked away, swallowing away any emotion I was feeling. I looked down at my phone. It was…
Not Sarah.
Dante.
“What is it?” I said. I didn’t much care if my voice was curt and my tone even rude. I was off tilt, and my brothers should all be well used to that by now.
“I have more information about what’s going on with Sarah,” he said.
I stopped where I was. I probably hadn’t walked more than three steps away, but the world around me suddenly seemed to freeze and fall away. Dante had my full attention.
“Go on,” I said, a sense of dread washing over me.
“Someone with the Morrils has been trying to dig up dirt on Sarah for a hit piece,” he said.
“You know how you’ve said you’ve been trying to build her up so that the fall is that much greater?
Well, I guess someone in that family thinks you’re taking too long.
They’re digging around to family friends, associates, asking questions.
They want to expose Sarah as the one who killed Virgil. ”
“What?”
The sole word I uttered barely matched the anger that I felt.
I could have smashed my phone in my hand, I felt so fucking angry.
I swore, if it was Leo Morril, I would break his fucking neck with my bare hands.
Jail? Bad press? I didn’t give a fuck. I could lose all my money, my entire empire, and it would not matter if someone in the Morril family hurt Sarah.
She was mine, mine alone, and no one else’s. I might have wanted to break her at some point, but no longer desiring to do so was not suddenly permission for someone else to step in and take the reins. Most especially the fucking Morril family.
Fuck!
“I’m certain of it, Cassius,” Dante said.
“They know you’re associated with her publicly.
It doesn’t matter what happened a couple days ago.
The truth takes far longer to emerge than rumors, especially salacious ones.
They can score a double whammy—they can hurt you by hurting her and by having you associated with her. ”
Fucking hell!
I stormed out of the cemetery before I did something sacrilegious. Fuck, I was so fucking furious. I probably scuffed my shoes along the way, I didn’t give a fuck. Shoes could be replaced, even shoes costing several thousand dollars. Sarah’s reputation? Sarah’s livelihood? Our reputation?
Those were priceless.
But it went beyond reputation. Reputation was simply the reflection in the mirror of the real person, at times distorted, at times accurate, but never the real person themselves.
What the Morrils were doing… if they wanted to fuck over one of us, if they wanted to fight us in a boxing ring or a dark alley, so fucking be it. But to drag Sarah into this game?
A thought flashed into my mind to call in the Reapers.
Have them vandalize the Morrils’ off-Strip property.
Have them send a warning to the family. They wouldn’t have to kill anyone.
They wouldn’t even have to kill any animals.
Just do some fucking drive-bys, some fucking property crime, let them know they were stepping into territory they had no business being in.
But no.
One, Prince and Crush had been pretty fucking clear. They were not getting involved. That was their choice, and no amount of money or influence would change their minds.
Two, there was no use in having the lesson I needed to stop getting involved if I didn’t then follow through on that lesson. This was my chance to take matters into my own hands; could I be smart about it?
“Have you done anything so far, Dante?”
“No,” he said. “I wanted to run this by you first. Adrian, Lucas, and I won’t be affected by this, outside of being asked for comment we’ll ignore. But you’re the one most ensnared in this, Cassius. We want—”
“I will take it from here,” I said. That sounded nice. I took in a breath. I had brothers who would help me. Why decline that? “Whoever they are talking to, Dante, get them on our side. Whatever tabloid or media outlet they’re using—”
“That’s Adrian’s world, but I don’t think that’s worth pursuing,” Dante said. “He’s right beside me.”
“The harder you try to squash something in media, the bigger its exposure,” Adrian said. “I’m not saying let it release. But honestly, Cassius, if this came out tonight, and we said nothing, no one would remember in a week.”
That was true on a general public level, but it was not true on a more specific level.
I would never forget whatever was said. Sarah would never forget what was said.
Those closest to her would forever associate her with the article.
Jane in Reno might not remember, but no one in our circle gave a shit about Jane in Reno.
This was targeted character assassination, and I would have none of it.
“Do what you can to work your influence with whomever they’re talking to,” I said. “I have a phone call to make.”
I didn’t even say goodbye before I hung up. I was already dialing Sarah’s number before I took my next breath. If I couldn’t stop this—I would stop this, but just in case something fucking crazy happened—Sarah had a right to know what was coming.
“Cassius,” she answered.
Her voice was cold and flat; there was maybe a hint of surprise in her voice, but nothing about her sounded eager to hear me.
That was tough to swallow but understandable.
I had told her I was keeping the Reapers in my life on the plane, and she’d heard nothing to suggest otherwise.
Actually, if anything, whatever she would have heard since would be reinforcing that.
“I need you to listen to me carefully, Sarah,” I said, using the hardest tone I could. “The Morril family is planning a hit piece on you. I don’t know if anyone’s tried to contact you, but they’re using you to hurt me and my business. I will go on record to help, but—”
“Do whatever you want, Cassius.”
The bluntness, the lack of emotion. Oh, that fucking stung.
“I am moving on,” she said. “I’m packing up my things and going back to Phoenix as we speak. I’ve already accepted the step down in my career as a result. If anything happens, it’s for you to clean up.”
“I’m trying to help you!” I said. “Fuck, Sarah, don’t you get it? They want to ruin your name, your image, and drag me down in the process. They know if they can’t come at me directly, they’ll come after you.”
There was a brief pause on the phone, just enough that a part of me dared to hope the warning might be getting through.
“I’m choosing to step away from the limelight you brought me into, Cassius,” she said.
Her voice wasn’t quite as callous or distant, but it was nowhere near the tender voice I’d heard in Wyoming.
“Maybe I’ll go back to being Sasha Carter.
I don’t know. But I don’t want to play in your world anymore.
Your world is no different from the Reapers’. ”
“No, Sarah, I—”
“Just because you don’t use guns and motorcycles doesn’t mean you don’t play the same games of power, control, and greed,” she said.
“If my punishment for letting myself get caught in that game is one bad article, I’ll accept it.
But I won’t let myself dig further. You wanted to destroy me?
Well, the Morrils can’t destroy what’s already broken. ”
“Sarah!”
But she had already hung up.
Fuck.
What now?