Chapter Thirty Eight
Cassandra sighed heavily and stared up at the imposing building, determination pouring through her veins. Her attention laser focused on her goal.
After her encounter with Isabelle, she had gone home and licked her wounds. She touched her bandaged wrist absently as she remembered how she had screamed in pain and agony as it had been set. The pain she felt in her soul had been greater than the pain in her hand.
She had sat in the dark in her room and had replayed the insult in her mind thousands of times. It played like a loop, she was unable to stop thinking about it. She sat in her room for days, thinking of what had happened at the cursed lake. She needed it branded in her memory. It was important that she never forgot.
She needed to remember the insult...she needed to make Isabelle pay...she needed to make sure that the wench knew that no matter what power she held, she would never be good enough to hld a candle to her.
She needed her to know that she was better than her...better for Khalil.
She took a deep breath and walked into the establishment; her shoulders squared with a new kind of determination. Her shoulders carrying the insult she had received. She walked through the lobby, noticing bitterly that as she walked, no one turned to look at her. They all walked past her like she was nothing...like she was nobody. She gritted her teeth. Power had truly shifted, and it was being felt throughout the pack.
As she rode the elevator, she remembered how the world stopped whenever she had come to see Khalil at his headquarters. Everyone had known who she was, had stopped and lowered their gazes in reverence. Now, they didn’t even see her. She had become invincible. She sighed heavily and forced a small plastic smile on her face as she walked out of the elevator and into the reception of Khalil’s office, barely sparing a glance at the receptionist, ignoring the waiting people, waltzed past the secretary’s office and headed straight for Khalil’s door.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, you cannot go in there.”
Cassandra stared at the receptionist in disgust as the younger woman stood in her path, her face equally contorted in mild irritation while still maintaining a professional smile on her face.
Cassandra cocked a brow and stared down her nose at the receptionist, bristling at the disrespect. It was one thing to not be noticed when she had walked into the establishment, and it was another to be rudely spoken upon by staff who had once been scared to look into her eyes for fear of being fired.
“Excuse me?” she said finally, her voice carrying a deadly, icy calm.
The receptionist’s smile didn’t budge. “I’m sorry, ma’am, you cannot go in there,” she repeated.
“And why the fuck not?” Cassandra hissed, almost at her wit’s end.
The receptionist’s smile dropped, and she squared her shoulders. “First, you do not have an appointment with him—”
Cassandra scoffed. “I do not need a fucking appointment to speak to Khalil.”
The receptionist ignored her rude interruption and carried on. “Also, if you look behind you, you would see that there are people waiting to see him too.”
Cassandra turned around to see two men staring at the spectacle with amusement in their eyes. She rolled her eyes. She hadn’t even noticed them; that was their fault. She could hardly be blamed because she didn’t notice the existence of insignificant seat fillers when she was on a mission.
A mission that the little brat before her was currently trying to foil.
“I want to see Khalil,” Cassandra stated, turning her attention to the receptionist.
She nodded. “You will. You will just have to wait your turn with those gentlemen.”
Cassandra looked at the men again, this time with disgust. It was bad enough that she was being made to breathe their air, now the little wench wanted her to share her presence with them. She turned back to the receptionist with a small smile on her face, turning on the charm.
“What is your name, sweetie?” Cassandra asked.
“Sasha.”
“Well, Sasha. I think you must be new here. I am Cassandra. If you would just tell Khalil that I am here to see him, you would understand that I have never needed an appointment, and neither will I ever need one.”
Sasha sighed heavily. “I am really sorry, ma’am...”
“If you would just call him—”
“He is currently busy with someone and asked to not be disturbed. So, no, unfortunately I cannot call him.”
Cassandra opened her mouth to speak, to pour out expletives on the poor receptionist’s head. But she was saved the trouble when Khalil’s door opened and a tall man dressed immaculately in a suit walked out. Without thinking, Cassandra sidestepped Sasha and ran into his office, ignoring Sasha’s angry yell as she took her window of opportunity.
Cassandra smiled at Khalil as he looked up from his desk, somewhat confused on the commotion. An angry receptionist and a satisfied Casandra were staring at him.
“I am really sorry, sir,” Sasha said. “She was really insistent on seeing you. I had told her that she was going to have to wait but—”
“I am so sorry, Khalil,” Cassandra said, cutting the receptionist off. “I just had to speak to you.”
Khalil leaned back in his chair as he stared at Cassandra. He hadn’t seen her in a long while, not since their last encounter. He wondered what she wanted, if he should give her audience. He didn’t need her antagonizing him, his actions with Isabelle had done enough of that.
But then again, it was Cassandra.
“It’s okay, Sasha. You can leave.”
Cassandra sighed in relief as the receptionist shot her one last glare and left the office, closing the door behind her.
“This had better be good, Cassandra,” Khalil said. “I doubt I have the time and patience for your shenanigans today.”
Cassandra nodded and took a few steps into his office. She drew air into her lungs and shifted on her feet, her hands clinging her bag on her shoulder for support. She needed to convince Khalil of her mission here today. Her ability to exact her revenge and break her spirit heavily depended on her ability to sway Khalil.
“I...I wanted to apologize to you,” she started. “For everything. Especially with Isabelle.”
Even mentioning her name left a bitter taste in Cassandra’s mouth and she swallowed the bile that rose in her throat.
Khalil cocked his head and looked askance at her. He was surprised, shocked even. Cassandra has never been one to over an apology. She was Cassandra, and so she was right. He was surprised, and something told him that there was a hidden agenda, something that she hoped to achieve. Some cunning plan that was hidden beneath the apology. After all, that is who she has been since their childhood.
He continued to stare at her, trying to peel back the layers to who she was, hoping to see the very familiar sign that there was something cunning up her sleeve. He came up blank. A small smile graced his lips. He never thought he would see the day where Cassandra would willingly provide an apology for her behavior. After all, she was Cassandra, and she was always right.
“You’re apologizing. That’s very much unlike you,” Khalil teased, happy for the happy rapport that had existed between them since they were kids.
Cassandra smiled widely, and shrugged. “Change is good, is it not?” She asked innocently.
Khalil chuckled. “Yes. Yes, it is…”
They both lapse into comfortable silence. Khalil, happy that he had not lost his childhood friend forever, and Cassandra was grateful that the first quarter of her plan had been successful. Now, she only had to move on to the second.
The air in the room shifted, as though understanding Cassandra’s intent. The comfortable silence became uncomfortable and Khalil wanted her out of his office.
He could not quite put his finger on it, but she felt different. She didn’t feel like the woman he knew. Deep down inside him, his spirit warred with what he knew to be true.
He cleared his throat, and smiled at her. “If that is all, Cassandra…”
“Actually, that isn’t all,” Cassandra answered abruptly, her hand around the handle of her bag tightened subconsciously.
Khalil cocked his head to the side. “What’s wrong?”
“I wanted to ask for a favor…” Cassandra said carefully.
Khalil sighed, and leaned back in his chair. “What is it?” He asked tentatively,
“I would like to work with you as your personal assistant.”