Chapter 54 Chapter 54

Chapter 54 Chapter 54
CASSIAN'S POV

I woke up with a sour taste in my mouth.

The sunlight was too bright. The bed was too firm. My head was pounding. My lips were throbbing. I reached up and touched them. They were swollen. Bruised. The skin was raw and tender.

I sat up slowly. The room spun. I squeezed my eyes shut. Waited for it to pass.

Last night came back in fragments. The gala. The whiskey. Dominic's face across the room. The balcony. The kiss.

I had kissed him.

I had kissed Dominic Costello. After seven years. After everything he had done to me. After he had married someone else. After he had destroyed me.

I had kissed him like I was drowning and he was air.

I pressed my palms against my eyes. The shame was hot and sharp and suffocating.

I did not even plan to kiss him. I did not know what came over me. One moment I was punching him. The next moment, I was kissing him like my life depended on it.

And his wife had seen.

She had stood in the doorway with her red dress and her dark hair and her wide eyes. She had seen her husband kissing another man. She had seen me kissing her husband.

I had not stopped.

I had looked at her and I had not stopped.

What was wrong with me?

I got out of bed. Walked to the bathroom. Looked at myself in the mirror. My face was pale. My eyes were red. My lips were swollen and raw. There was a bruise forming on my jaw. I did not remember getting it.

I turned on the shower. The water was scalding. I stepped in anyway. Let it burn my skin. I scrubbed my lips until they bled. Until the water ran pink. Until I could not feel them anymore.

When I got out, I looked at myself again. My lips were bloody and bruised. My face was pale. My eyes were hollow.

I looked like a ghost.

I dressed for work. Charcoal suit. White shirt. Black tie. The same uniform I had worn for seven years. The armor I wore to face the world.

Breakfast was coffee. Black. Bitter. I did not taste it.

The drive to the office was quiet. The city blurred past the windows. I did not see any of it. My mind was still on last night. On his mouth. On his hands. On the way he had said my name like it was a wound.

I parked the car. Walked into the building. The elevator was slow. The hallways were long. I nodded at the people who greeted me. Did not smile.

I had a meeting today. A merger deal. The biggest deal of the quarter. I had not read the file. I had been too distracted. Too consumed by memories of him.

I had my PA read it for me. She gave me a summary on the way to the conference room. Key points. Numbers. Deadlines. I nodded along. Did not listen.

The conference room was bright. The table was long. The chairs were leather. The windows faced the city skyline. A dozen people were already seated. My team. The other team. Lawyers. Accountants. Assistants.

And him.

Dominic was sitting at the head of the table. Right across from my seat. His suit was navy blue. His hair was perfectly styled. His eyes were dark and amused.

He was smirking at me.

The room tilted. My vision narrowed. My hands clenched into fists.

He was here. In my building. In my conference room. He was the other party. He was the one I was supposed to merge with.

I had not known. My PA had not told me. Or maybe she had and I had not heard. I had not been listening. I had been too busy drowning in the memory of his kiss.

"Mr. Vane," he said. His voice was smooth. Professional. "Good to see you again."

He gave me a slight wink.

My blood boiled.

I forced myself to breathe. Forced myself to walk to my seat. Forced myself to sit down. My hands were shaking under the table.

"Mr. Costello," I said. My voice was flat. Controlled. "I did not realize you were the other party."

"Surprise."

A few people laughed. They thought he was joking. They did not know. They could not know.

I opened the file in front of me. The words blurred together. I could not focus. I could not think. All I could see was his face. His smirk. His eyes. The way he had kissed me on the balcony while his wife watched.

The meeting started. Presentations. Projections. Terms. Conditions.

I did not listen.

I was watching him. He was watching me. His eyes never left my face. He was enjoying this. Enjoying my discomfort. Enjoying my rage.

I wanted to hit him again.

"We propose a sixty-forty split," Dominic said. "Our company takes the majority share. We have the resources. The connections. The expertise."

"Sixty-forty is not acceptable," I said.

"Fifty-fifty then. We are willing to be generous."

"Generous?"

"Very generous." He smiled. "For you."

My jaw tightened.

"The Vane Corporation does not need your generosity," I said. "We have our own resources. Our own connections. Our own expertise."

"Then why are we here?"

"Because my father thought this merger was worth exploring."

"And you?"

"I am not my father."

He leaned back in his chair. Studied me. His eyes were dark. Unreadable.

"You are exactly like your father," he said. "Cold. Distant. Unable to trust anyone."

"Thank you."

"It was not a compliment."

"I know."

He leaned forward again. His elbows were on the table. His eyes were locked on mine.

"Your company is struggling," he said. "Your European division is barely profitable. Your domestic market is shrinking. You need this merger more than I do."

"My company is fine."

"Your company is bleeding money. Your father knows it. That is why he called you back. Not because he missed you. Because he needed someone to save this sinking ship."

My hands clenched into fists under the table.

"My company is not sinking," I said.

"Then why did you fire ten employees on your first day?"

"Because they were incompetent."

"Or because you were scared. Scared that they would see through you. Scared that they would realize you do not know what you are doing."

I stood up. My chair scraped against the floor. The sound was loud in the quiet room.

"I know exactly what I am doing," I said.

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"Then prove it. Sign the merger."

"No."

"Cassian."

"Mr. Vane. And I said no."

He stood up too. His chair scraped against the floor. The sound echoed mine.

"You are making a mistake," he said.

"I am making the right decision."

"Your father will not agree."

"My father is not here."

"He will find out."

"Then let him find out."

The room was silent. My team was frozen. His team was frozen. No one moved. No one spoke.

Dominic walked around the table. Stopped in front of me. His body was close. Too close. I could smell his cologne. The same cologne. The one I had smelled on the balcony.

"Seven years," he said. His voice was low. Only I could hear. "Seven years and you are still running."

"I am not running."

"You are. You ran from me. You ran from your family. You ran from everything. And now you are running from this deal because you are scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Scared of me."

I laughed. A bitter sound. "I am not scared of you."

"Yes, you are. You are scared that I will get close to you again. You are scared that you will fall for me again. You are scared that you still love me."

My heart stopped. Then started again. Faster. Harder.

"You are delusional," I said.

"Am I?"

"Yes."

"Then why did you kiss me on the balcony?"

I looked around. Everyone was staring. My team. His team. The lawyers. The accountants. The assistants.

They had all heard.

"The proposal is rejected," I said. My voice was loud. Final. "This meeting is over. Everyone leave."

They did not move.

"Now," I said.

They moved. Chairs scraped. Papers shuffled. Feet shuffled. The door opened and closed. The room emptied.

Everyone except Dominic.

He was still standing in front of me. His arms were crossed. His eyes were on me.

"Everyone heard that," I said. "They all know."

"I do not care."

"You should care. I have a reputation to protect."

"You have a reputation for being cold and untouchable. Now they know you are not."

I stared at him. My hands were shaking. My heart was pounding.

"You are impossible," I said.

"And you are still in love with me."

"I am not."

"Then why did you kiss me?"

"Because I was drunk."

"You were not that drunk."

"I was."

"You were not."

I wanted to hit him again. I wanted to scream. I wanted to walk out of this room and never see him again.

But I could not move.

Dominic stepped closer. His hand reached up. Touched my face. His thumb traced my cheekbone.

"Seven years," he said. "Seven years and you still cannot look me in the eye without falling apart."

"I am not falling apart."

"Yes, you are."

He leaned in. His lips were close to my ear.

"I know about your brother," he whispered.

My blood ran cold.

I pushed him away. Hard. He stumbled back. His eyes widened.

"What did you say?" I asked.

"I know about your brother. Marcus. He has been missing for four months."

"Who told you?"

"No one told me. I have my sources."

I stared at him. My heart was pounding. My hands were shaking.

"What do you know?" I asked.

"I know where he is."

I could not breathe. I could not think. My brother. The one person I had come back for. The one person I had failed.

I grabbed his collar again. Pulled him close.

"Where is he?" I asked.

"Let go of me."

"Where is he, Dominic?"

He did not answer. He just looked at me with those dark eyes. That infuriating smile.

His hand slid around my waist. Pulled me closer. I fell against him. His lap. His chest. His warmth.

I tried to get up. He held me tighter.

"If you want to know where your brother is," he whispered in my ear, "do not wiggle that ass on my cock and instigate me to fuck you raw on this conference table."

A shiver ran down my spine. A delicious shiver. I hated it. I hated that my body still responded to him. I hated that I still wanted him.

I did not let it show. I glared at him. My jaw was tight. My eyes were burning.

He smirked at me. His hand was still on my waist. His lips were close to my ear.

"Now," he said. "Are you going to be a good boy and listen?"