Chapter 56: Secrets

Sneaking out was surprisingly easy. I grabbed a jacket, checked my reflection, my hickeys were mostly hidden by the collar, and headed down. I made a vague excuse to the security team in the lobby about needing ’fresh air and a specific brand of Spanish cigarettes.’ They looked at each other, then back at me. I was Cassian Wolfe’s personal assistant; they weren’t paid to tackle me unless I was being kidnapped.

I slipped out into the humid Spanish night, my heart hammering against my ribs. It was the first time I’d felt like I was breathing in weeks.

Alex was waiting in a sleek, dark car a block away. When I climbed in, the scent of his cologne, something crisp and expensive, filled my senses.

“You came,” he said, his voice a low, pleasant rumble. He was wearing a casual button-down, the top two buttons open. He looked… incredible.

“I needed to get out,” I said, trying to sound bolder than I felt. “Cassian thinks I’m a porcelain doll.”

Alex chuckled, a warm sound that made my stomach flip. “He doesn’t know how to value what he has. Let’s change the subject.”

He took me to a lively, hidden gem of a bar. It was loud, filled with the sound of Spanish guitar and laughter. He introduced me to a few people, architects, a local artist, and for the first time in forever, I wasn’t ’The Assistant.’ I was just Noah.

We sat at a small table in the corner, a couple of rounds of drinks between us. Alex kept apologizing, his eyes fixed on mine with an intensity that made it hard to look away.

“I really am sorry, Noah,” he said, leaning in. “If I had known…”

“It’s okay, Alex. Really,” I said, feeling the slight buzz of the drink. “It wasn’t your fault.”

The conversation drifted, circling back to the dinner we’d had before the world ended.

“You said something before,” I started, trying to keep my voice casual. “About Cassian. About why he went to prison. You said you knew what he did.”

Alex’s expression shifted. He toyed with the rim of his glass, a mysterious glint in his eye. “Ah. That.”

“Tell me,” I pleaded. “I need to know who I’m working for.”

Alex smirked. “It’s a heavy secret, Noah. Are you sure you’re ready for it?”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Tell you what. A game. Every time you get a question right about me, I’ll give you a piece of the puzzle.”

I shook my head, laughing nervously. “No way. I have terrible alcohol tolerance. Last time I drank, I ended up… well, let’s just say I made some bad choices.”

Alex’s gaze dropped to my lips for a fraction of a second, and my heart nearly exited through my throat. “Fair enough,” he said softly. “I won’t make you drink. I’ll just tell you.”

He leaned in so close our shoulders touched.

“I don’t know the full official report, no one does. But the word in the upper circles? The rumor that keeps everyone’s hands shaking when they sign a deal with him?”

I held my breath.

“They say he murdered people, Noah. Not one. Not in self-defense. They say he cleaned house for the Wolfe family. Multiple people. Bodies that were never found.”

The air felt like it had been sucked out of the room. My blood went cold, a physical shiver running down my spine. Murder? I knew he was dangerous. I knew he was violent. But multiple murders?

Alex saw my face and immediately reached out, touching my hand. “But hey, it’s just a rumor. The Wolfes have a lot of enemies. People love to make up stories about the big bad wolf.”

I laughed, but it sounded high-pitched and brittle. “Right. Stories. Just… bedtime stories for billionaires.”

The mood had shifted. The lights felt too bright, the music too loud. I suddenly felt very, very far from home.

“I should go back,” I said, my voice shaking.

Alex didn’t argue. He drove me back to the hotel, the silence in the car heavy and contemplative. When he pulled up to the curb, he didn’t unlock the doors right away. He turned to me, his eyes searching mine.

“Noah,” he said, his voice like velvet. “I know things are complicated. But I’d really like to get to know you. The real you. Away from Wolfe.”

I felt my face go crimson. My heart was racing, butterflies, no, giant moths, banging against the walls of my stomach. This was Alex Hendrix. The Angel. And he was looking at me like I was the only person in the world.

“I… I’d like that too,” I stammered.

“See you tomorrow,” he said, his voice lingering on the words.

I stumbled out of the car, my head spinning. I floated through the lobby, past the security team, who looked surprisingly tense, and into the elevator.

I hadn’t checked the time. I didn’t care. I felt independent. I felt seen. I felt…

The elevator doors dinked open.

I hummed a little tune as I walked toward the suite, still feeling the warmth of Alex’s gaze. I let myself in, moving quietly, hoping to sneak into my room and process the night.

I rounded the corner into the living area.

And stopped dead.

The only light in the room came from the city skyline through the windows. And there, sitting in the center of the sofa, was Cassian.

He wasn’t In his usual pristine state. His tie was hanging loose around his neck, his white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, and his hair was a mess, as If he’d been running his hands through it for hours. He was nursing a glass of whiskey, his posture slumped with a kind of exhaustion I’d never seen.

He looked wrecked.

He looked dangerously, heart-stoppingly attractive.

He looked up, his eyes catching the faint light. They weren’t angry. They were… dark. Empty.

The sight of him hit me like a physical blow. All the sweet, fluttering thoughts of Alex Hendrix, the gourmet chocolates, the ’angel’ smiles, it all evaporated in a single second. My lungs seized up.

“You’re finally back,” he said. His voice was a low, raspy growl that vibrated in the very floor beneath my feet.

My independence died a sudden, violent death.

“Cassian,” I breathed.

He stood up, the glass clinking as he set it on the table. He moved toward me, slow and predatory, the shadows clinging to him.

“Where,” he whispered, stopping inches from me, “…have you been?”

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