The Ravishing
If we had anything in common, it would be that and only that—if it was true.
“I’m thirsty.”
With a tight jaw, I reached back for that glass of water on my desk. The one I’d only taken a few sips from. “Here.”
“Do you have something stronger?”
“Take the glass,” I said sternly.
She took it from me and brought it to her lips, her hand shaking.
There was no time for this. I knew these games. My sister used to play them too. When I would send her to her room at night for bed, she’d always ask for another drink. Another story about our parents. Another snack. Even at her age, she’d clung to me as if I was all she had left in the world.
Because that’s exactly what had happened—I’d been left to parent her.
And it had been this woman’s father who had killed mine. His blood surged through her veins.
“Why have you brought me here?” She looked scared.
“You want to talk about you? We can do that.”
Her pale throat rippled as she swallowed hard.
“You have his gold,” she chided. “Why do you need me?”
“Because you have information I want.”
“What kind of information? I promise, I know nothing.”
“From my intel, you were at home. A lot. Which means you have access to your father’s office. You see what he does in there.”
“Why am I being blamed for something he’s done?”
“Answer the question.”
“Dad shuts the door. He’s doesn’t do much in there as far as I can tell. He has an office elsewhere. He’s obsessed with his work.”
“And what does he do?” I wanted to see if she knew, carefully studying her face for clues to her insight.
“He deals in foreign sales.”
“And the commodity?”
“I’m not telling you one more thing until you let me call home.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
She leaned forward, her head cocking to the side. “Who are you anyway? Really? You take me from my house. Steal from my father. You threaten me . . . ”
Reaching for the hair on her nape, I scrunched it up and yanked her head back, leaning in to glare down at her.
“I’m someone you should be scared of.”
I let that sink in before taking a step back.
She was quiet for a minute, but then her back straightened as if she was trying to make herself appear taller. Stronger.
“And yet . . .” she smirked. “I have no clue who you are. If you were such a bad man, wouldn’t I know your name?”
“I run this city.”
“Pretty sure it’s my father who does that.” Her brow quirked up. “You don’t even sound like you’re from here. You sound like some Ivy League northerner.”
“Appearances can be deceiving. Look at you. Where’s your accent?” I said pointedly. “Oh, that’s right. Your father has hidden you away in your castle all this time.”
“Cage,” I thought she muttered under breath, but I couldn’t be sure.
“Just talk and this will be over, because if you don’t, you won’t like the outcome.
“You want me to tremble in fear and tell you something. Well, I hate to break it you, I don’t know shit.”
“You think you have no need to be afraid, but that’s where you’re wrong. I’m the one person you should be afraid of, and you know why?”
“No. But I bet you’re going to tell me.”
“Because I have nothing left to lose . . .” I let my words settle in.
She tried to act like they didn’t affect her, but I watched her. Watched as her jaw went rigid and trembled slightly. Good.
“We’re done. You may go now.”
I held her stare, triumphant at having caught a living, breathing Glassman in my snare. But then she surprised me as she smiled broadly.
“The next thing I break in this house will be bigger than a mirror.”
“So much as touch one more item, and I will break you. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Her voice came out breathy.
“Do you remember how to get back to your room, or do you need me to arrange an escort?”
“Fuck you.”
“That’s what I thought. Now get the hell out.” I watched her run from the room.
I felt my intrigue rise.
What was this woman capable of?
Cassius
It was done.
My first strike against the Glassmans felt fucking fantastic. Anya had left my office looking like she was filled with terror. Seeing her fear felt like a victory.
How many times had I imagined this? Played it out in my mind in every detail. What I hadn’t expected was bringing one of them here. Toying with one of them.
Back in my study, after sending Anya to her room, I calmed my thoughts and got back to work.
Ensuring that Calvetti Fleet, my father’s business, continued to thrive.
With me at the helm, I’d turned this company into a multibillion-dollar empire.
It had been a grueling six months, with all our tankers being fitted with environmentally friendly double hulls. I’d soon be able to go after the sweet spot of the tanker cycle. Lloyds had been right about predicting my company would become the most influential in the industry. All I had to do was outwork the competition.