Chapter 15: Distractions

CASSIAN

The bar was the kind of place people came to when they didn’t want to be seen.

Dim lighting. Private booths tucked into shadowed corners. A clientele that minded their own business because they all had secrets of their own. No cameras. No questions. Just expensive whiskey and the quiet hum of white noise that swallowed conversations whole.

Perfect.

I sat in the back corner booth, nursing a glass of scotch, waiting.

My phone buzzed.

Unknown: Five minutes out.

I pocketed it and took another sip, letting the burn settle in my chest.

The meeting with Gerald Cho had gone exactly as planned. The property was mine. The paperwork would be finalized by end of day.

But that was just one piece.

One move on a board that was getting more crowded by the day.

Preston and Seraphina were gathering allies. Shareholders. Investors. People who thought they could ride their coattails to power once they pushed me out. My father had warned me it would be like this, that stepping into the CEO position would paint a target on my back.

He just hadn’t mentioned how much I’d enjoy it.

Still, I wasn’t naive. I needed leverage. Information. Dirt on anyone stupid enough to side with my dear stepmother and her golden child. Which is why I was here, waiting for the man who made problems disappear.

The door to the bar opened.

A figure slipped inside, average height, unremarkable face, dressed in a plain gray suit that screamed “forgettable.” Exactly what you’d want in someone who traded in secrets.

He spotted me immediately and made his way over, sliding into the booth across from me without a word.

“Mr. Wolfe,” he said quietly.

“Reid.” I didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Do you have what I asked for?”

Reid reached into his jacket and pulled out a slim envelope, setting it on the table between us.

“Everything you wanted,” he said. “And then some.”

I opened it, scanning the documents inside. Photos. Financial records. Emails. Text messages. A timeline of transactions that painted a very ugly picture.

Richard Langley. One of XUM’s major shareholders. A man who’d publicly declared support for Preston’s bid to take over the company. A man who presented himself as a family-oriented philanthropist.

And a man who’d been embezzling funds from his own charity foundation to pay off his mistress and cover up a string of harassment complaints from female employees.

I smiled.

“This is good work,” I said.

“There’s more,” Reid continued. “Langley’s been meeting with your brother. Twice in the last month. Once at a private club, once at Langley’s estate. I’ve got photos, but they were careful. No audio.”

“Doesn’t matter.” I slid the envelope into my coat. “This is enough.”

Reid nodded. “What do you want me to do with it?”

“Nothing yet,” I said. “I’ll handle Langley personally. But keep digging. Anyone else who’s been cozying up to Preston or my stepmother, I want to know about it.”

“Understood.”

I pulled out my wallet and slid a thick envelope of cash across the table. Reid pocketed it without counting.

“One more thing,” I added. “I need you to start looking into someone else.”

Reid raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

I hesitated for a fraction of a second.

“Noah Bennett,” I said. “He works for XUM. Recently transferred to my office as executive liaison assistant.”

Reid’s expression didn’t change, but I could see the gears turning behind his eyes.

“Background check?” he asked.

“Thorough one,” I said. “Family. Friends. Financial history. Any skeletons he’s hiding.”

“Expecting trouble?”

“No.” I leaned back, swirling the whiskey in my glass. “Just being careful.”

That was a lie, of course.

I wasn’t being careful. I was sinking my teeth.

Noah was mine now. And I wanted to know everything about him. Every weakness. Every vulnerability. Every secret he thought he could keep from me.

Reid nodded and stood. “I’ll have a preliminary report to you by tomorrow.”

“Good.”

He left as quietly as he’d arrived, disappearing into the midday crowd outside.

I drained the rest of my scotch and signaled the bartender for another.

The whiskey arrived, and I was halfway through it when I heard her voice.

“Cassian?”

I didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

I’d recognize that voice anywhere. Breathy. Overly sweet. Laced with the kind of false innocence that set my teeth on edge.

I turned slowly.

Lila.

Dark hair falling in perfectly straight sheets past her shoulders. Green eyes that sparkled with calculated interest. Dressed in something tight and expensive, designed to draw attention.

She was smiling at me like we were old friends.

We weren’t.

“Lila,” I said flatly. “What a surprise.”

“I know, right?” She slid into the booth across from me without waiting for an invitation. “I was just in the neighborhood and saw you through the window. I thought, ’No way, is that Cassian?’ And here you are!”

Bullshit.

This bar didn’t have windows facing the street. And Lila didn’t strike me as the type to just “happen” to be in this part of town.

But I didn’t call her out.

Instead, I leaned back and watched her with mild amusement.

“So,” she said, leaning forward slightly, giving me a clear view down her neckline. “How have you been? It’s been a while since we hung out.”

“Has it?” I said, voice bored.

“Mmhmm.” She bit her lower lip, a gesture I’m sure she thought was seductive. “I had fun that night. We should do it again sometime.”

I’d met Lila a few months ago at some industry gala. She’d been hovering near the bar, clearly trying to network her way into someone’s good graces.

When she’d spotted me, she’d latched on immediately, asking questions, laughing too loud at things that weren’t funny, trying desperately to seem interesting.

I’d entertained her for exactly one drink before making an excuse to leave.

The second time, she’d shown up at another event. Same routine. Same desperation.

I’d learned later that she worked for some online gossip rag, writing celebrity fluff pieces and hunting for scandal. She’d posted photos of us together, nothing incriminating, just her sitting on my lap and pressing her lip again my cheek at a party, until my assistant had firmly requested she take them down.

I didn’t like my face on the internet. Too many enemies. Too many people who’d love to know where I was and who I was with.

“You know,” she continued, pouting slightly, “I even took down those photos like your assistant asked. I know you’re private and all, but I thought we had a connection.”

“Did you?”

She blinked, smile faltering for just a second before snapping back into place.

“Well, yeah.” She reached across the table, fingers brushing against my hand. “I mean, we had fun, didn’t we? You were so… mysterious. Intense. I like that in a guy.”

I pulled my hand back slowly, deliberately.

She leaned back slightly, playing with a strand of her hair.

“I just… I miss talking to you, you know? We had such a good time when we hung out before.” She paused, letting out a small, practiced sigh.

“And honestly? I even left my boyfriend for you. I thought… I don’t know, I thought maybe there was something there between us. But you’re always so hard to reach.”

I stared at her.

Boyfriend.

The word stuck in my mind for a second, and I knew why.

It couldn’t be.

“You left your boyfriend,” I repeated flatly.

“Well, yeah.” She smiled, like this was supposed to be romantic. “He was boring anyway. You’re… exciting. Dangerous. Everything he wasn’t.”

“Lila,” I said, voice flat. “What do you want?”

Her smile turned coy. “I just want to spend time with you. Maybe grab dinner sometime? Or drinks? You’re always so serious. You should loosen up a little.”

“I’m plenty loose,” I said.

“Are you?” She tilted her head, giving me what I’m sure she thought was a sultry look. “Because you seem pretty tense to me.”

I almost laughed.

This was the part I usually enjoyed. The moment where I’d let her keep talking, keep trying, keep embarrassing herself and then I’d hit her with the truth.

But today, I wasn’t in the mood.

“You know what’s funny?” I said, leaning forward slightly.

Her eyes lit up. “What?”

“You’re not my type.”

Her smile froze.

“I’m… what?”

“You’re not my type,” I repeated, slower this time. “You’re very attractive, Lila. I’m sure plenty of men would be thrilled to take you to dinner. But I’m not one of them.”

She laughed nervously. “Oh, come on. You’re just playing hard to get.”

“No,” I said. “I prefer men actually.”

Silence.

Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

“You’re… you’re joking,” she said finally.

“I’m not.”

“But you—” She gestured vaguely at me. “You don’t look gay.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What does gay look like?”

She flushed, realizing how stupid that sounded. “I just mean… you’re so… masculine. And confident. And—”

“And I like fucking dudes,” I finished.

She stared at me, and I could see it, the flicker of disgust she tried to hide beneath confusion. The way her nose wrinkled slightly. The way her gaze shifted, like she was reassessing me and finding me lacking now.

“Maybe you just haven’t been with the right woman,” she said finally, voice a little sharper now.

There it was.

I smiled. Cold. Amused.

“Is that so?”

She opened her mouth to argue, probably to insist that she could “fix” me or some other delusional nonsense but I was already standing.

“It was lovely seeing you,” I said, tone making it clear it was anything but. “But I have work to do.”

I dropped cash on the table for my drink and walked out, leaving her sitting there with her mouth hanging open.

The drive back to XUM headquarters was quiet.

I sat in the backseat of the car, staring out the window, mind already shifting gears.

Lila’s face lingered in my thoughts for a moment, not because I cared about her, but because of what she’d said.

“I even left my boyfriend for you.”

Boyfriend.

The word had triggered something. A memory.

Noah.

Standing in my office, desperate and trembling, begging me not to ruin his life.

“You already got my girlfriend. The woman I loved. And now you want to take my life and dignity too?”

His girlfriend had left him.

For someone else.

For someone he thought was me.

I hadn’t cared at the time. Still didn’t, really.

But the coincidence was amusing.

Lila had left someone for me. Noah’s girlfriend had left him for someone who looked like me.

Two pathetic, discarded lovers, clinging to the wreckage of relationships that never mattered in the first place.

I smiled faintly.

And now Noah was mine.

My phone buzzed.

A notification.

Ms. Kwon: Bennett has been briefed and is working at his new station. Awaiting further instructions.

Perfect.

I typed out a reply.

Me: I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Have him ready.

I pocketed the phone and leaned back, letting anticipation hum through me.

Time to see how my new toy was adjusting.

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