Chapter 52 Chapter 52

Chapter 52 Chapter 52
CASSIAN'S POV

The boardroom was silent.

Twenty faces stared at me. Some curious. Some skeptical. Some openly hostile. They had expected a weak replacement. A placeholder. Someone they could manipulate while the real Vane heir was missing.

They were wrong.

I stood at the head of the table. My suit was charcoal grey. My tie was black. My hair was shorter than it used to be. Neater. More controlled. The glasses on my face were new. Thin silver frames that made me look colder. Sharper. Untouchable.

My father sat at the other end of the table. Watching. Waiting. His grey eyes were unreadable.

I did not look at him.

"Good morning," I said. My voice was flat. Monotonous. The voice of someone who had stopped caring about making people like me. "I am Cassian Vane. Some of you may remember me. Most of you probably do not. I have been in London for the past seven years. I have been running Vane's European division. I have tripled its profits. I have cut its costs by forty percent. I have fired more people than I can count."

I paused. Let the words sink in.

"My father has asked me to return and take over as CEO while he deals with personal matters. I have agreed. This is not permanent. But while I am here, I expect this company to run efficiently. Competently. Properly."

I picked up a folder from the table. Opened it. Read the first name.

"Mr. Henderson. You have been with the company for twelve years. In that time, you have missed twenty three deadlines. You have cost the company over two million dollars in lost revenue. You have been warned six times. You are fired."

Henderson's face went pale. "You cannot do this."

"I can. I just did. Security will escort you out."

I read the next name. Then the next. Then the next.

Ten names. Ten employees. Ten people who had been coasting. Leeching. Failing.

They all left. Some angry. Some crying. Some silent.

The remaining board members looked at me with new eyes. I did not care. I did not want their respect. I did not want their approval. I just wanted to do my job and leave.

The meeting continued. Strategy reports. Financial projections. Quarterly goals. I listened. Nodded. Made notes. Did not smile once.

When it was over, I gathered my files. Walked out of the room. Did not look back.

\---

My father was waiting in the office.

The corner office. The one with the floor to ceiling windows and the mahogany desk and the leather chairs that cost more than most people's cars. The one I had dreamed of inheriting as a child. The one I no longer wanted.

"Cassian," my father said.

I closed the door. Did not sit. Did not smile.

"You called me back," I said. My voice was flat. "Why?"

My father leaned back in his chair. Studied me. His grey eyes were tired. Older than I remembered.

"I did not have any wish to bring you back," he said. "You made it clear you did not want to be here. You made it clear you did not want to be part of this family."

"Then why am I here?"

"Your brother is missing."

The words hung in the air. I felt something crack inside my chest. Something I had thought was dead. Something I had buried years ago.

"Missing?" My voice was sharp now. Sharp and loud. "Missing for how long?"

"Four months."

"Four months? And you are just telling me now?"

My father's eyes hardened. "I am telling you now. That is what matters."

"No. That is not what matters. What matters is that my brother has been missing for four months and no one told me. What matters is that I had to find out from you, in a board meeting, like it was an afterthought."

"Cassian."

"Do not. Do not say my name like that. Do not pretend you care. You never cared. Not about me. Not about Marcus. Not about anyone."

My father stood up. His hands were on the desk. His face was pale.

"Your brother is missing," he said again. "I have been searching for him. I have hired private investigators. I have contacted the police. I have done everything I can. But I cannot run this company and search for him at the same time."

"So you called me back."

"Yes."

"To be your placeholder."

"To be the CEO. To run the company. To keep it from falling apart while I find your brother."

I stared at him. The anger was still there. Hot and sharp. But underneath it was something else. Something cold. Something tired.

"Fine," I said. "I will do it. But once Marcus is found, I am leaving. I am going back to London. I am not staying here."

"Fine."

"And I am not attending any of your social events. I am not smiling for the cameras. I am not pretending to be the perfect son."

My father's jaw tightened. "You will attend tonight's party."

"Excuse me?"

"There is a party tonight. A charity gala. Everyone who is anyone will be there. You will attend. You will smile. You will represent this family."

"I said no."

"You said you would run the company. This is part of running the company."

I opened my mouth to argue. Closed it. The fight drained out of me.

"Fine," I said. "One party. One night. Then I am done."

"Done?"

"Done pretending."

I walked out of the office. Did not look back.

\---

The new apartment was sterile.

Everything was grey. The walls. The furniture. The bedding. It looked like a showroom. Like no one actually lived here. I preferred it that way. No memories. No reminders. No ghosts.

I took off my suit jacket. Loosened my tie. Sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress was too firm. The sheets were too crisp. I did not care. I just wanted to sleep.

I lay down. Stared at the ceiling. The ceiling was smooth. No cracks. No water stains. I missed the old ceiling. The one with the crack near the corner. The one in Dominic's apartment. The one I had memorized.

I closed my eyes.

The ring was cold against my chest.

It hung on a silver chain around my neck. The chain was thin. Delicate. The ring was small. Silver. Simple. The one I had taken off years ago. The one I had put in a drawer. The one I had retrieved the night before I left London.

I had told myself it meant nothing. It was just a piece of metal. A reminder of a mistake. A lesson I had learned.

But I could not let it go.

I reached up. Clutched it in my palm. The metal was warm from my skin. It fit perfectly in my hand. Like it had always been there.

Seven years.

Seven years since I had left. Seven years since I had kissed Dominic goodbye. Seven years since I had said I hate you for making me love you.

I had not stopped loving him.

I had tried. God, I had tried. I had thrown myself into my work. I had traveled. I had dated. I had done everything I could to forget.

But every night, I checked the news. Every morning, I searched for Dominic's name. I had not missed a single article. Not a single interview. Not a single photograph.

Dominic had become a titan. The Costello empire had expanded. Mergers. Acquisitions. Record profits. He was on every business magazine cover. Every Forbes list. Every social media feed.

He had done it all without me.

And I had watched. From a distance. From London. From the safety of a different continent.

I had watched Dominic succeed. I had watched Dominic thrive. I had watched Dominic marry someone else.

There were photos. A few. The bride was beautiful. Dark hair. Dark eyes. A diamond on her finger that must have cost a fortune. They posed at galas. At charity events. At exclusive dinners.

But there were never many. Not the way there should be for a couple so young. Not the way there were for other power couples.

I had wondered. Had wondered if it was real. Had wondered if Dominic loved her. Had wondered if she loved him. Had wondered why Dominic never looked happy in the photos. Not truly happy. Not the way he used to look when he was with me.

But then again, I knew Dominic. I knew how possessive he was. He would not parade his wife to the media. He would keep her hidden. Guarded. Protected. She was his. And he would never let anyone see her. Not the real her. Not the way he had let me see him.

I chuckled bitterly. The sound was hollow.

"Possessive bastard," I whispered. "You would never let anyone else have her. But you would never let anyone see her either. Because she is yours. And that is all that matters."

My heart ached. The pain was familiar. Old. It had not faded. It would never fade.

I let go of the ring. Rolled onto my side. Reached for the drawer in the nightstand.

Two sleeping pills. I took them. Dry swallowed. I did not care about the taste.

I closed my eyes. Waited for the darkness to come.

The pills worked fast. My body relaxed. My mind slowed. The last thing I saw was the ring on my chest. Silver. Simple. A promise that had been broken.

I drifted off to sleep.

Tomorrow, there would be a party. Tomorrow, I would smile. Tomorrow, I would pretend to be fine.

But tonight, I would dream of him.