Page 55 of Tragic Empire
“I missed you too, little sister.”
Cassio and I spend the next hour by Killian’s bedside, going over his plans for the next few weeks. He’s going to need some physical therapy, and experts in the cardiology field will monitor him as he begins to try more strenuous activity. He’s expected to make a full recovery, but they’re being cautious after such a serious injury and lengthy coma.
Eventually, it’s time for us to leave him. Despite being unconscious for a month, he still needs sleep and medicine that makes him drowsy. And unfortunately, both Cassio and Killian agree that limited visits are for the best. They don’t want anyone to follow me here and find him alive, and they aren’t sure how long this investigation of theirs is going to take.
Killian doesn’t have many more leads than Cassio. He was as surprised as everyone else that his family was made the target of some top secret hit. There was no bounty to be found, no assassins network chatter, and no rumors of money being exchanged. Still, both men remained firm in that they would find those responsible and make them suffer.
Back in the car, I sit in the passenger seat, feeling lighter. Seeing Killian awake and talking has lifted one of the many weights of sadness from my shoulders. What began as a horrid day, ended not so dreadfully.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you and Killian are friends?Best mates, even?” I ask, looking over at my husband while he drives. We’re in one of The Kings’ unmarked SUVs to try and remain anonymous. It’s quite dark inside, not just due to the time, but the overly tinted windows as well.
Cassio sighs. “Best mates might be a bit of an overstatement. But we attended Empire together, and we’ve kept in friendly contact over the years. We get drinks from time to time, and we find each other’s company tolerable. I hadn’t meant to keep it from you, though.”
“So why did you?”
“Honestly, Ana?” He reaches toward me without taking his eyes off the road, his hand softly cradling the side of my thigh. “If you knew we were friends and he died, you wouldn’t just be grieving for yourself, you’d be sad about my loss as well. I didn’t want that for you. I was only trying to spare you the pain of your empathetic heart.”
“How do you do that?” I ask wondrously.
“Do what?”
“Know exactly what to do and say all the time?”
I knew from his reputation that Cassio was exceedingly bright, but he’s more than just a man with a big brain. He has depths to him that I can’t fully comprehend, the kind of emotional intelligence that men and women strive for and never fully achieve.
“Sometimes I think you know me better than I know myself, and I’ve hardly done any work to let you in,” I continue before he can answer. “It’s like you read my mind, and give me precisely what I need or want, before I’ve even realized that I need or want it.”
Cassio’s hand flexes around my inner thigh, causing a burst of butterflies to dance around in my stomach.
“It’s easy to take care of you,forza,” he says simply. “Don’t worry about how or why, just know I’m never going to stop.”
ChapterNineteen
Ana
The next morning, I’m jumping out of bed as soon as I hear Cassio leave. He didn’t mean to, but he accidentally woke me up early when he got a phone call he didn’t ignore. Eavesdropping is typically quite impolite, but in this case, I’m glad I was awake enough to listen in.
I finally have an opportunity to help him, and I’m going to take it. My stomach is in knots with nerves, but seeing Killian yesterday gave me a boost of strength. Perhaps the plan I formulated in a matter of minutes isn’t the best one, and sure, I’m not extremely confident in my ability to pull it off. However, I think if I pull it off, it will be worth the stress.
Since I showered last night before climbing into bed, I don’t need to wash myself again. I focus on getting my hair styled and makeup slathered on. After twenty minutes, I admire my handwork in the vanity mirror. Slicked-back high ponytail that falls down to the center of my back, smokey eyes and pink-painted lips. My face looks almost unrecognizable after weeks of going without any makeup at all. I used to wear it every single day, enjoying the ritual and the results.
That feels like a lifetime ago, now. Ever since using my disassociation skills to such an extreme on that awful night, my memory has been unreliable. Cole originally started teaching me the ability to help me deal with having such an active eidetic memory. It didn’t use to bother me as a child, in fact, I loved it. Being able to remember course material in school without studying, never misplacing anything important, and always remembering important dates.
But eventually, my mind started to feel full. Like there was a capacity I had already met, and still, my brain wouldn’t stop trying to stuff more material in. I would get awful, overwhelming headaches where I couldn’t stop thinking. A million different topics would bubble to the surface, bothering me with loud and irrelevant thoughts. I wished so hard that I could simply shut down and make it stop.
Cole took notice, and started to help me sift through memories, and trained me to hyper-focus on one thing at a time when I needed. I was doubtful that he could have methods to truly relieve the ache I was experiencing. And yet he did.
And until I needed to fully numb myself, shoving all troubling memories into the back of my mind, it worked perfectly. I became a master of thought sorting, taking back control of my memory. But now? Things that never felt unfamiliar before do, and I feel more forgetful than ever. Part of me wishes I could blame it on the concussion, but it was hardly severe enough to cause this level of disarray.
Maybe I just need more time to heal completely.
Sighing, I straighten my shoulders and disappear into my closet, heading directly toward the dress I want. It’s a long black A-line with a plunging neckline, open back, and a deep slit up the right side. It doesn’t take long to slip into, nor to add a diamond necklace and a few matching bracelets to compliment the look. A pair of black stilettos complete my ensemble, and click hard against the floor as I rush downstairs.
Just as I predicted, Cassio has already left the apartment. But I find Armani and Colton sipping steaming cups of coffee while Sirius sits near them, watching patiently.
“Umm, hello model.” Colton whistles, noticing me first. “What’s the occasion?”
“I need to put some people in their place,” I inform him, lifting my chin. “Would you gentlemen like to accompany me?”
