Chapter 172: Theater pt 2

CASSIAN

“You’re using too many words,” I interrupted. I didn’t raise my voice. I didn’t have to. The consultant stopped mid-sentence, his mouth hanging open.

I pulled out my phone, ignoring the shocked gasps from the board members. To them, I was being a petulant child. To me, they were white noise. I opened my messages and texted Mrs. Chen.

Check if he’s awake. Let me know if he needs anything.

I hit send and pocketed the phone, checking my watch with a deliberate, slow movement. The message was clear: You are boring me. Get to the point or shut up.

The meeting pivoted. The room began to discuss the logistics of who would sign off on the next development phase now that Alex was… gone.

The silence that followed the question was heavy. Eyes shifted toward my father, then toward the legal team, then toward me.

“Cassian will handle it,” my father said. His voice was calm, measured. It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a public declaration of succession.

Preston turned a shade of red that looked medically concerning. “Father, surely—”

“Cassian has the most direct experience with the project’s current trajectory,” Charles said, cutting him off without looking at him. “Unless someone here has a faster, more efficient alternative?”

No one spoke. The silence was a tacit agreement. They were terrified of me, but they were more terrified of the chaos that would ensue if I wasn’t the one holding the leash.

“Are you comfortable with that level of responsibility, Cassian?” a senior board member asked, trying to sound respectful.

I looked at him. I didn’t think about the millions of dollars. I didn’t think about the “responsibility.” I thought about the way Noah had looked at me when I’d carried him to the bedroom. I thought about how much I wanted to be back there.

“If it keeps this from becoming a circus,” I said flatly. “Fine.”

The room seemed to exhale collectively. They were relieved I’d accepted, even though I’d made it clear I despised them for asking.

It made me more intimidating, not less. A man who wants power can be bought or threatened. A man who doesn’t care about the power he’s been given is an unpredictable monster.

As they moved on to the minutiae of contracts and ministry deadlines, I zoned out again. My pocket buzzed. I pulled the phone out immediately.

Still sleeping, sir. I’ll check again in an hour.

A small, dark spark of satisfaction flared in my chest. Good. He needs the rest. I destroyed him.

“We’ll need your approval on the compliance documents for the ministry,” someone said, trying to defer to me.

“Send it to legal,” I said, not looking up from my phone. “Don’t wait for me.”

“Yes, of course,” they replied instantly. No pushback. No hesitation. I had been handed expanded authority, de facto control of the largest project in the company’s history, and a position that no one could challenge. And I hadn’t even had to try.

The meeting dragged on for another hour. By the time my father nodded to signal the conclusion, the board members were filing out as if they were escaping a burning building. They huddled in small clusters in the hallway, whispering about the “new direction” of the company.

I remained seated. I wasn’t in a hurry. I watched the door close behind the last lawyer, leaving only the three of us: Charles, Preston, and me.

I started to stand, intending to leave without a word, but Preston’s voice stopped me.

“Sit down, Cassian,” he snapped, trying to project an authority he didn’t possess. “We aren’t finished.”

I didn’t even slow down. I reached for the door handle.

“I said sit down!” Preston raised his voice, his face contorted with rage.

I stopped and turned, looking at him as if he were an interesting species of insect. “Are you talking to me, Preston? Because you sound like you think you’re in charge. It’s embarrassing.”

“Cassian.”

My father’s voice was a low, steady anchor.

I stopped. I didn’t want to listen, but the habit of obedience to that specific tone was hard to break. I exhaled, a long, irritated sound, and turned back to the table.

“Sit,” Charles said. It was one word, accompanied by a look that could have stripped paint.

I sat. The triangle of tension between us was thick enough to choke on. I realized then that the board meeting had been the appetizer.

This, this private moment, was the real reason I’d been summoned. My father had planned every second of it.

The public naming of me as the lead, the intentional provocation of Preston, the timing of the news.

He’d handed me something irreversible. It wasn’t just authority; it was a trap. By making me the face of the Hendrix cleanup, he had tied me to the family legacy more tightly than ever before.

He’d seen me drifting, he’d seen the way I was looking at my assistant, and he had moved to pull me back into the fold before I could disappear.

Fuck, I thought, looking at my father’s impassive face. He knows. He knows I want out, and he’s just locked the door.

I leaned back, my hand instinctively going to my pocket to check for another message from Mrs. Chen. I didn’t care about the board, or the partnership, or the billions of dollars. I just wanted to know if Noah was awake. I wanted to know if he was fine.

“What do you want, Father?” I asked, my voice cold. “I have somewhere else to be.”

Preston scoffed. “Probably to see that pathetic assistant of yours. You’re making a spectacle of yourself, Cassian. It’s beneath a Wolfe.”

I looked at Preston, and for the first time that day, I smiled. It wasn’t a kind smile. “Careful, Preston. If I’m making a spectacle, imagine what I’ll do to you if you mention him again.”

The silence that followed was absolute. My father simply watched us, a predator observing his cubs fight, knowing exactly which one was going to win.

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