Chapter 210 Chapter 0209

Chapter 210 Chapter 0209
The door clicked shut behind him.
Arthur stood there, just for a second, his breath uneven, his pulse too damn loud in his ears.
Cassidy sat exactly where he had been before, cuffs still securing him to the table, but his smirk was softer now—less amusement, more curiosity.
Like he was waiting to see what Arthur would do.
Arthur exhaled, forcing himself to step forward, closing the distance between them. His throat was dry, his hands trembling just slightly at his sides.
Cassidy’s gaze flicked to them.
Arthur stuffed them into his pockets.
Then—finally—he spoke.
“Why?”
Cassidy arched a brow. “You’ll have to be a little more specific, sweetheart.”
Arthur clenched his jaw. Of course Cassidy was going to make this difficult.
He inhaled sharply. “Why did you come for me?”
Cassidy’s expression didn’t change, but something in the air between them did.
The silence stretched.
Arthur shifted. “You—” His voice wavered, but he forced it steady. “You shouldn’t have. I left. I—” He swallowed, forcing himself to meet Cassidy’s gaze. “I didn’t want this.”
Cassidy hummed, tilting his head slightly, eyes scanning him the way a predator watches prey.
“Didn’t you?”
Arthur’s stomach twisted. “Cass—”
Cassidy leaned forward, as much as the cuffs allowed. His voice was lower now, slower.
“I like you a lot, Arthur.”
Arthur blinked, caught off guard by how simple the words were.
Cassidy exhaled, letting his head tilt back slightly, his smirk fading into something quieter.
“And I didn’t want to lose the only love I had left in my life.”
Arthur felt the words like a physical weight.
He shouldn’t feel anything.
Not for a man who had built his empire on blood.
Not for someone who had lied to him.
Not for someone who could very well have been the one who took his sister away.
And yet—
Arthur’s breath hitched. “Cass—”
Cassidy’s smirk returned, sharp and knowing. “You’re a terrible liar, sweetheart.”
Arthur swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to ignore the way his heart slammed against his ribs.
He had come here for answers.
And all Cassidy had done—was leave him with more questions.
Arthur’s fingers curled into fists. His heart pounded so hard he thought it might shake the damn room.
“Then be honest,” he said, voice low but firm. “No more games, no more manipulation—tell me the truth about Alexandra.”
Cassidy stilled.
For the first time since Arthur walked in, the amusement flickered—just slightly.
Then, slowly, Cassidy leaned back in his chair, exhaling through his nose.
“It’s what I told you that night,” he murmured, voice softer than Arthur expected. “Alexandra and I were lovers.”
Arthur’s stomach twisted, but he didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
“She was a social activist,” Cassidy continued, his gaze distant now, like he was staring at something Arthur couldn’t see. “Fierce. Stubborn as hell. She thought she could change the world, thought she could go up against men who didn’t lose.”
Arthur swallowed hard.
Cassidy’s fingers flexed against the cuffs. “She was murdered by the mafia, Arthur. That’s the truth.”
Arthur felt his throat tighten. “And you—”
“I joined them,” Cassidy admitted, his smirk long gone, his voice steady but dark. “I thought I could find out who did it. Thought if I dug deep enough, played my cards right, I’d get a name, get something.”
Arthur’s breath hitched.
“But I never found out.” Cassidy exhaled slowly, eyes flicking back to him. “She was just another body in the ground by then. And the people who did it? They were already ghosts.”
Silence fell between them.
Arthur’s legs felt weak. His chest ached, his head spun.
For so long, he had held onto the possibility—the fear—that Cassidy had been the one responsible. That all the secrets, all the blood, all the lies had led back to him.
But now—
Arthur swallowed. “You never lied.”
Cassidy tilted his head slightly. “No,” he murmured. “I didn’t.”
Arthur inhaled sharply.
And finally—finally—he believed him.
Arthur straightened, jaw tight, hands shaking. “I’m getting you out of here.”
Cassidy’s smirk returned, slow and knowing. “That right?”
Arthur’s eyes burned. “Yeah.”
Cassidy let out a soft hum, something warm flickering behind the smugness.
“Well then,” he murmured. “Guess I better sit tight, sweetheart.”
Arthur stood up and turned toward the door, his pulse roaring in his ears.
But then, Cassidy’s voice, low and amused, stopped him.
“You really think it’ll be that easy?”
Arthur hesitated. He exhaled sharply and turned back. “What?”
Cassidy leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping idly against the table. “You think you’ll just walk out of here, get some poor bastard in a suit to argue my case, and—what? I’ll be free by the weekend?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh, sweetheart. You’re adorable.”
Arthur’s jaw clenched. “I’m serious, Cassidy.”
Cassidy’s smirk didn’t waver. “I know you are.” His eyes flickered with something almost fond. “That’s what makes this so damn cute.”
Arthur felt his frustration spike. “I’m trying to help you.”
Cassidy tilted his head. “I know.”
Arthur exhaled sharply. “You’re impossible.”
Cassidy’s smirk widened, but his voice was softer now. “And you’re predictable.”
Arthur frowned.
Cassidy leaned forward, his cuffs clinking against the table. “I knew you’d come.”
Arthur’s breath caught in his throat. “What?”
Cassidy’s gaze never wavered. “I knew, sooner or later, you’d come looking for me. Maybe not like this. Maybe just to know—to see if I was still the monster you built in your head.” His voice dropped to something slower, quieter. “You can’t help it, Arthur.”
Arthur swallowed hard, his pulse thundering in his ears.
“You always come back,” Cassidy murmured.
Arthur took a sharp step toward the door, needing to break the moment before it swallowed him whole.
Cassidy didn’t stop him.
Didn’t say another word.
But as Arthur reached for the handle, he heard it—
A whisper, laced with certainty.
“I’ll be seeing you soon, sweetheart.”
Arthur shut the door behind him before he could react, his breath uneven as he stepped into the hallway.
Masahiro and Matthew was waiting.
Arthur forced himself to straighten, pushing everything—Cassidy, the truth, the way his name sounded in that voice—to the back of his mind.
Because he had a promise to keep.