Page 9 of Session 33

"Why we gotta see?" His voice dipped low.

I smirked, narrowing my eyes at him. "Because I already had you figured out before Naomi warned me. One look and I knew you were vain, problematic, surrounded by too many women, and way too reckless with your money. No ambition. But…" I paused, dragging it out just to mess with him.

"But what?" he pressed, leaning closer.

"But you’re handsome," I admitted, knowing I was feeding his ego.

He grinned even wider, cocky as hell. "You think I’m handsome?"

I couldn’t help it—I tittered. At least he had a good sense of humor. "Downright gorgeous," I said, rolling my eyes. "And that’s the problem. Men like you are nothing but trouble. Eventually, I’d get curious, then stupid, and it would all end badly for me."

Cassius’s head tipped back as he laughed. When the laughter faded, he leaned in closer, his face just inches from mine, and said, "Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am all those things. But maybe… you’re wrong. Maybe there’s more to me than what you see."

I raised an eyebrow, trying not to let him rattle me. "There’s not," I said simply, shaking my head. "And there’s nothing wrong with you being you, Cassius. Goodnight. Again."

As I shifted gears, ready to drive away, he leaned in once more. "Wait, wait," he said. His tone was curious now. "Are you sad, Angel?"

I froze for a moment, caught off guard. Then, tilting my head, I gave him the truth. "Yes," I said quietly. "Most days, I’m so sad and lonely I could cry."

The honesty of it hung in the air between us, heavier than I expected.

Cassius opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it, the usual confidence in his expression faltering. For once, he seemed at a loss for words.

Before he could think of anything to say, I backed out of the driveway, leaving him standing there, watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite place.

I chuckled softly, shaking my head. I’d probably just shattered whatever illusions Cassius had about me. And maybe… that was for the best.

Chapter eight

I’d heard men talking about infatuation, but I’d never experienced it until now. It was what had me standing in the lobby of a high-rise building, carrying a bag full of food, feeling something unfamiliar tight in my chest. My heart pounded as I approached the front desk.

The secretary caught my eye and smiled, her gaze trailing over me, assessing me as if I were something valuable. I couldn’t blame her—I’d dressed to impress, wearing a black button-up, black pinstripe tailored dress pants, and black Giuseppe sneakers.

"Hi there," she purred, leaning forward, putting her titties on display. "How can I help you?" They were fake—strike one.

"I'm here to see Angel Mars," I replied, keeping my tone low. My eyes darted around. Anxiety had me paranoid for no reason.

She tilted her red head, her smile widening. "Do you have an appointment, sir?"

I shook my head. "No, but I'm sure she'll want to see me," I said, flashing my signature grin. Women loved it when I smiled with a little crookedness and a lot of confidence. It usually made things easier, smoother because they felt I was more accessible to them—less perfect.

She hesitated, leaning forward slightly. "You know, she's really busy. Maybe you can call me, and I’ll set up an appointment for you?" She slid a card with her number on it across the desk.

I picked it up, barely glancing at it, but I slipped it into my pocket. "Thanks, beautiful. But could you call her and let her know I'm here? I’ll still give you that call—maybe we can do something later." I let my gaze drop to where she wanted it to be—on her tits—and ran my tongue across my lips.

Her face turned beet red as she picked up the phone, her eyes never leaving mine. After a brief conversation, she hung up and nodded. "She'll see you now. Eighth floor, office 805."

I walked to the elevators. The doors opened immediately after I pressed the button, and I stepped in, feeling the secretary’s eyes on me. She was thirsty as fuck. That was unattractive. As the doors closed, I pulled the card from my pocket and dropped it onto the floor. My focus was elsewhere.

The elevator ride was quick, and soon enough, I was standing in front of Angel's office. The door was glass, and I could see her working inside, the city skyline at her back.

I knocked lightly and pushed the door open. Angel looked up. She didn’t look happy to see me, but she didn’t look displeased either. Why was she so fucking pretty to me? I could tell she didn’t trust me. I couldn’t blame her for that—I didn’t even understand my own motives.

"Cassius, what are you doing here?"

I waved the bag in her face, grinning. "Bringing you lunch. Naomi said you work too hard and don’t go out to eat. So, here I am."

She raised an eyebrow but smiled. “Why?”

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