CASSIAN
The whiskey glass was heavy in my hand, the amber liquid catching the low, warm light of the bar.
I had been watching the way the condensation pooled on the marble, thinking about how easy it was to manipulate the surface of things... to make a murder look like a mob hit, to make an execution look like a consequence.
Then Noah asked the question.
The glass froze halfway to my lips. The silence that followed was so absolute I could hear the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer and the shallow, frantic hitch of Noah’s breath.
I looked at him. Really looked at him. He was pale, his knuckles white where he gripped his glass of tropical juice... that ridiculous drink I’d ordered to keep him from spiraling.
But his eyes were steady. Those green eyes were searching mine, not for a denial, but for the finality of a confession. He had already decided I was a monster; he just wanted to hear the monster speak.
Fuck it, I thought. Truth is more interesting than lies with soone like him.
I set the glass down on the counter with a deliberate, heavy clink. I didn’t answer imdiately.
Instead, I stood up and walked around the edge of the bar, my movents slow and predatory. I leaned against the marble right next to him, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his skin.
"What do you think, Noah?" I asked. My voice was a low, dangerous rumble. "Do you think I did it?"
Noah’s jaw set. He didn’t flinch, though I could see the pulse jumping in his throat. "I asked you first. Don’t flip the script, Cassian. Give a straight answer for once in your life."
I leaned in, closing the distance until my face was inches from his. I wanted him to see the lack of remorse in my pupils.
"I just wanted to know what you think... because I’m not very different from those billionaires who bury their secrets with bodies."
I watched the realization wash over him. It wasn’t the confirmation he expected. He’d been hoping... sowhere in that naïve, stubborn heart of his... that I would laugh it off.
That I would tell him it was all a coincidence. Instead, I watched the goosebumps rise on his arms. His breath caught, a soft, jagged sound in the quiet room.
Oh shit, his expression said. He actually did it.
I leaned back just a fraction, assessing the damage. He looked like his soul had briefly left his body, but he wasn’t running. He was still sitting there, pinned by my gaze.
"So..." I whispered, the word tasting like iron. "Are you scared of now?"
Noah lifted his head. He didn’t speak imdiately. His breathing was shallow, his chest rising and falling in quick, uneven bursts, but he held his ground. He didn’t look away.
I decided to push harder. I wanted to see him break. I wanted to see the exact mont he realized he was sitting in a room with a predator. "I killed Alex. I’ve killed many others. More than you can count."
I leaned in again, my shadow swallowing him. "The rumors you heard about my ti in prison? They weren’t just rumors. Mass murder. Ten to twelve people. That’s why I went away. That’s the man who’s been paying your salary, Noah. That’s the man who held you while you cried in Spain."
His breath hitched again, a tiny, broken sound. He looked like a mouse trapped by a cat, cornered and trembling.
"Are you scared of now?" I taunted, my voice dropping to a hiss. "Do you think I’m like Alex... "
"No."
The word was firm. Imdiate. It cut through my monologue like a blade. I blinked, genuinely surprised.
"Really?" I asked, my brows knitting together. "What makes you think that? I just told you I’m a murderer. I just told you I ended a man’s life yesterday. And many more..."
"You might be a cold-blooded murderer," Noah said, his eyes snapping to mine with a sudden, fierce fire.
"But you’re not like Alex. Alex drugged people. He raped them. He manipulated them for sport and laughed while they suffered. You haven’t done those things."
I stood up to my full height, using every inch of my fra to tower over him, caging him against the bar. "So you think that excuses being a murderer? You think taking a life is a lesser sin than what he tried to do to you?"
He was trapped. He was small. But he stayed.
"I don’t know a lot about you," Noah said, taking a deep, shaky breath. "But I know you’re an, sadistic, and a total piece of shit. You’ve treated like an object for weeks."
He paused, his gaze searching my face with an intensity that made my skin crawl. "But you have a good side too. At least... I want to believe that."
I felt sothing shift in my chest... an odd, uncomfortable thrum. Was it the whiskey?
Or was it the way this boy looked at as if I were sothing worth saving? It made feel less like the monster I knew I was, and more like sothing... human.
"You’re too naïve for your own good," I said, my voice softening despite myself. "But brave sotis. Stupidly so."
"I’m just being honest," Noah whispered. "Even if it’s hypocritical. I want to believe there’s a side to you that isn’t a violent criminal. You had reasons, right? For killing them? For the ones in the past?"
I didn’t answer right away. I placed my hands on the bar on either side of him, caging him in. I got lost in his eyes. Green. Beautiful, mossy green.
I’d always hated the color green since I was a boy... it reminded of the rot in the world, of the envy that drove n to do terrible things. But looking at him, I realized it was the color of things that grow back after a fire.
"Yes," I finally admitted. "Everyone I killed... it was for revenge."
"Revenge?"
"Do you think I’m despicable?" I asked, the vulnerability slipping through my armor before I could catch it. "Because I know I am."
Noah didn’t hesitate. "Yes. You’re despicable."
I let out a hollow, dry chuckle and started to pull away. "Well, that settles it. My driver will take you ho—"
Suddenly, a hand shot out. Noah grabbed my tie, the silk bunching in his fist. He yanked back down toward him with a strength that caught off guard.
"But despite how terrible you are..." he said, his face inches from mine, his eyes scanning every line of my features. "Your expression says otherwise."
"What expression?" I growled, trying to regain the upper hand.
"You look like soone who’s been hurt. Deeply."
The words hit like a physical blow. Suddenly, I wasn’t in a villa in the hills. I was back in a dark alley, feeling the warmth of Julian’s blood on my hands. I saw his face... the garden boy who had been my entire world, the one I couldn’t save. I felt the old, jagged glass of my past cutting into my throat.
I pulled away harder this ti, my defense chanisms screaming. "I’m tired," I said, my voice cold and flat. "My driver will take you ho. We’re done for tonight."
"I don’t want to go," Noah said, standing up.
"Are you drunk again? Is that what this is?"
"I wish I was," he said, taking a step toward . "I need to stop lying to myself. I told myself I ca here to ask about Alex... but the truth is worse."
He stopped right in front of . He was shorter than , but in that mont, he felt massive. His voice dropped to a level of honesty that made the air in the room feel heavy.
"I just needed an excuse to see you again.... to be with you."
The world stopped. I didn’t have a witty retort. I didn’t have a threat. I just had the sound of my own heart, thundering against my ribs.
Noah reached out, his fingers trembling as they gripped my collar. He didn’t hesitate this ti. He pulled down, his movents clumsy but determined, and he kissed .
It wasn’t a soft kiss. It wasn’t the kind of kiss you see in the lodramas he loved.
It was desperate, fueled by angst and trauma and a month of repressed longing. It tasted like tropical juice and whiskey and the bitter, sharp edge of a shared secret.
For a mont, I was a statue. I was the monster in the dark. And then, I broke. I wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him so tight against that there was no room for air, no room for lies. I kissed him back with a hunger that terrified , my hands tangling in his hair as I drank him in.
I was a murderer. I was a sadistic billionaire with blood on my hands. And he was the only thing in the world that made want to forget it.
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