Page 4 of No Longer Mine

And then there was Benson. My best friend. The mastermind behind my new life.

Benson had done what I thought was impossible: he’d scrubbed my past clean. Every loose end and every connection was erased as though it had never existed. You couldn’t find a shred of evidence about me that I didn’t want you to see. He was worth every dollar I paid him—and I paid him a lot.

I had no qualms about spending my father’s money to fund my revenge. It was almost poetic, using his wealth to build the empire I’d eventually use to dismantle him.

But scrubbing my past came with sacrifices.

Cassie’s existence was wiped from every record. As much as it killed me to erase her, it was necessary. It helped that she was almost a nobody anyway. She didn’t have any family and no social media. We couldn’t be linked—not now, not ever.

In a twisted way, it felt like I was still protecting her.

Her memory burned in my chest as I approached the group, forcing another smile onto my face. Every step reminded me why I was here, why I had to win, and why failure wasn’t an option.

Benson stood at our table, fidgeting with his glass, his discomfort practically radiating off him. He wasn’t built for socialite events like this, and I didn’t blame him. Hell, I wasn’tbuilt for them either. But necessity had a way of forcing you into places you didn’t belong.

Benson wasn’t just an ally; he was an asset. His parents were founders of one of the largest airlines in the world, and their fortune rivaled some of the country’s oldest families. Their wealth opened doors, and their connections kept those doors open. Everyone knew them—or wanted to.

But Benson wasn’t just riding their coattails. He had talents of his own, talents that made him invaluable to me. Cybersecurity. Coding. The kind of skills that could bury secrets or unearth them, depending on what I needed. He’d built a digital fortress around me, one so impenetrable even the most determined investigator would come up empty.

Together, we were an unlikely team—the son of a crime lord and a tech genius from old money. On paper, we didn’t fit. But in practice, we were unstoppable.

As I approached, he glanced up, his expression somewhere between irritation and relief. He pushed his dark black wire-frame glasses up his nose, a nervous tic I’d picked up on long ago.

“You look like you’re enjoying yourself,” I said, smirking.

“About as much as you are,” he shot back, downing the last of his drink. “Remind me why I agreed to this again?”

“Because you love me,” I replied, grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing server.

Benson snorted but didn’t argue.

He didn’t need to be here. Any other day he would be down in his hovel doing research for me and continuing to collect valuable information for his other clients. His family’s name alone carried enough weight to make him untouchable. But he was here—for me. For the plan. And that loyalty was something I didn’t take lightly. Maybe he did actually love me.

“Just a couple of hours,” I said, clinking my glass lightly against his. “Then we can both get the hell out of here.”

He rolled his eyes but nodded. “Fine. Just don’t ask me to talk to anyone.”

I smirked. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

It didn’t take long for Alexei and Audrey to join us at the table. They both had glasses of bourbon in their hands and had never looked so in love. Alexei pressed a firm hand to the small of her back as he led her through the room. If the big sparkling diamond on her left hand wasn’t enough of a brand, the possessive gleam in his eyes did the trick.

Audrey released her love and scurried to my side. Quickly she pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek and smiled at me under her thick lashes. She was one of the prettiest girls I’d ever laid eyes on. I constantly wondered how my brother lucked out with her.

I gritted my teeth. It no longer mattered. When I took a wife, it would be for political reasons only and it wouldn’t come from the folder that my father picked out. I would probably choose her when my father was good and dead.

The first course—a delicate arrangement of scallops and caviar— was served, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Turning, I found myself face-to-face with one of the event’s key players, Senator Gerald Bain.

“Dimitri Cristof,” he said, extending a hand. “I’ve been meaning to introduce myself. What you’ve been building lately is truly impressive. You wouldn’t happen to be running for office soon? I’ve seen the moves you’ve been making and they look very political.”

I rose from my seat and shook his hand firmly. “Senator Bain. A pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard a great deal about your work in... international relations.”

His smile widened, pleased by the recognition. “I hope it’s all good things.”

“Of course,” I said smoothly, motioning toward the empty chair at our table.“Please, join us.”

The senator didn’t need much convincing. He sank into the chair beside me, launching into a carefully rehearsed speech about his vision for the future—buzzwords about progress and stability peppered with just enough charm to hold my attention.

But I wasn’t here for empty rhetoric. I was here to assess. To see who was worth my time and who wasn’t.

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