(4) Cassians Don't Take Nos

Those damn devils were embracing.

Holding each other so closely that it was as if Charity had become the other woman. Violet must have been delighted, knowing the last thing Charity saw was her wrapped in Samuel's arms.

Gasp!

Charity's eyes flew open in disbelief.

Pristine white walls greeted her, along with an unfamiliar room furnished with luxurious velvet furniture. She removed the oxygen mask from her face and noticed the IV drip connected to her arm.

"Where— Ah!"

She screamed in shock as she noticed someone standing at the doorway.

It wasn't just anyone.

Lucas stood there, leaning against the doorframe, his sharp, piercing gaze fixed solely on her. Like helpless prey, Charity instinctively retreated until her back hit the headboard.

"Are you that afraid?"

He stepped closer, but seeing her shrink away and avoid his eyes made him pause. Still, something unreadable flickered across his gaze as he continued.

"Have you seen a ghost?"

"You must be working with them!"

She held her aching head, trying her best to ignore the ringing in her ears. Something about him felt dangerous. She simply couldn't trust him.

"No."

Lucas immediately understood what she meant.

"Cassians are never this cheap."

He shrugged before adding,

"Not even a shred of gratitude for your savior?"

"Savior?"

Charity winced, turning to him in confusion.

Everything came rushing back.

The crushing pain in her chest.

The sudden fall from the cruise.

The deafening splash.

The freezing water creeping through her body.

Quickly, Charity pulled the blanket over herself and untied the robe she was wearing. Her chest had been carefully bandaged.

"It wasn't a dream... It wasn't."

She repeated the words like someone on the verge of losing her mind.

Why?

Was she trying to convince herself that her best friend had truly shot her... after kissing her husband?

"Baron!"

Charity forced herself out of those terrifying thoughts and cried out her son's name.

He was only five years old.

What could have happened to him?

"I need to see him. I have to see my son."

Ignoring Lucas completely, she climbed out of bed. The only thing occupying her mind was her little boy, who must be all alone.

"You can't."

Lucas caught her wrist before she could take another step.

"And you're not leaving."

Their eyes met for only a moment.

She lost.

His gaze was simply too commanding, the kind that could force anyone into submission.

No.

She refused to let this man control her.

So what if he resembled someone from her past?

So what if he was one of the infamous Cassians?

Charity blinked.

A new determination shone within her sapphire eyes.

Even Lucas looked mildly surprised, his stern expression softening for the briefest moment.

"I need to see my son. I'll repay you as soon as I return home. If you'd be so kind, Mr. Cassian, I don't wish to have any further involvement with you."

She yanked her wrist away with all her strength, finally breaking free.

The imprint of his fingers reddened her pale skin, stinging where he'd held her.

Still, she remained silent as she pulled out the IV needle.

Lucas simply watched her.

Unreadable.

His eyes never left her.

The moment she walked past him, he calmly pressed a button on a remote control.

"Our family is still mourning her dearly."

Charity froze.

She hadn't even taken five steps when she heard that voice.

Samuel.

The man she hated most.

Her racing heart ached all over again, yet she remained rooted to the spot.

"You can't leave yet, Charity."

Like the devil whispering over her shoulder, Lucas stood behind her.

With the back of his hand, he gently guided her face toward the television mounted opposite the bed.

Charity's eyes stung.

Fresh tears threatened to fall as she remembered Samuel kissing Violet.

The man who used to hold her every night.

The man who had supported her career.

The man everyone believed to be the perfect husband.

Now stood before countless flashing cameras, crying as though his wife's funeral were nothing more than another performance.

Samuel appeared on the screen surrounded by reporters, microphones, and flashing cameras.

Beside him stood a young boy holding tightly to his hand.

Samuel wiped away fake tears while his sorrowful sobs echoed through the broadcast.

Both father and son wore matching black suits adorned with white flowers.

They were in mourning.

But for whom?

"Despite the rumors that Charity Collins spent the night with another man, you're personally hosting her funeral?" one reporter asked.

"W-what...?"

Charity gasped.

"My funeral?"

Her breathing became ragged.

She couldn't believe what she had just heard.

"Mommy isn't dead!"

Suddenly, the young boy with curly golden hair shouted angrily.

His cheeks were bright red, and his adorable face was scrunched into a fierce frown.

Charity's heart ached seeing her son still defending her.

"Baron, enough."

Samuel scolded him.

The boy stuck out his tongue before running into another room.

The cameras immediately followed Baron.

He entered a spacious viewing room filled with mourners.

At its center rested a polished mahogany coffin.

Charity immediately recognized the large portrait displayed among the white floral arrangements.

It was her.

"Forgive him. He just lost his mother."

Samuel reclaimed the reporters' attention with a heavy sigh.

"Although my wife allowed another man into our marriage, I forgave her. Her sudden passing is something I would never have wished upon her."

"Hah..."

A bitter laugh escaped Charity's lips.

The tears she'd been desperately holding back finally fell.

She laughed because she was too furious to cry.

Where had he found such a cruel heart?

To speak of forgiveness.

To play the grieving widower so flawlessly.

"You're lying!"

Charity screamed at the screen, fully aware no one could hear her.

"Baron... our son... will remain under my care," Samuel continued sorrowfully. "He's still far too young to endure this kind of grief."

"Is it true the Redwood Family has officially named Baron Collins the heir to Charity Collins' inheritance?"

Another reporter asked.

The question struck Charity like lightning.

She gripped the edges of the television stand, her heart pounding violently.

"No..."

Her instincts screamed at her.

"This can't be... He's using my son to take everything that belongs to me! I... I never knew he could be this selfish!"

Her arms trembled uncontrollably under the weight of her emotions.

"The Redwood Family," Lucas spoke calmly, "a prominent family that has long served under the British royal family."

Charity barely heard him.

That was the family she'd run away from.

Despite everything that had happened, she remained a legal heir.

Now that she had been declared dead...

Baron had inherited the fortune meant for her.

A fortune no greedy person could possibly ignore.

"Miss Violet! Miss Violet!"

The reporters suddenly erupted into another frenzy.

Violet had arrived.

Dressed in a black dress adorned with diamond jewelry, she looked pale and exhausted.

Charity knew it was nothing but another performance.

"What can you say about the rumors surrounding Charity Collins and her passing?" the reporters asked.

"Oh, please..."

Violet wiped away imaginary tears.

"Charity was one of my dearest friends. Whoever started those rumors deserves to face justice."

She sighed dramatically.

"People should show some compassion, especially for little Baron, who lost his mother far too soon."

Charity clenched her teeth.

The lies coming from those two made her sick.

She wanted to appear before everyone.

To expose them.

To reveal the truth.

"I'll be taking care of Baron for the time being. I was Charity's closest friend, after all."

She dabbed delicately at her eyes.

"It hurts so much..."

Beep.

The television suddenly went black.

Charity blinked before turning toward Lucas.

She still couldn't process the sight of those shameless murderers pretending to grieve before the entire world.

"You were buried three months ago."

Lucas tossed the remote onto the bed before slipping both hands into his pockets.

"You are officially dead."

He studied her pale, disoriented face.

"It was thanks to me that you're still alive."

"I have to go."

Charity's eyes hardened with determination.

She was caught completely off guard when Lucas suddenly knelt before her and firmly held her jaw, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"No."

His voice remained calm.

"You cannot."

"Let me go!"

She struggled, but Lucas effortlessly overpowered her, pushing her gently onto the carpeted floor while he remained above her with an amused smile.

"You!"

"Caleb."

He whispered the name beside her ear.

Her struggling stopped instantly.

"I don't know who you're talking about."

She shut her eyes tightly and turned her face away.

"Of course."

The smile on Lucas's lips widened.

"But aren't you curious about where he is?"

That made her look at him again.

This time, with hatred burning in her eyes.

"Why don't we make a deal?"

His voice was smooth.

"I'm being very, very generous. Not everyone gets the opportunity to receive an offer from a Cassian."

"A deal...?"

She frowned.

"Yes."

His amber eyes gleamed.

"I'll guarantee your safety and your son's. I'll even tell you everything I know about Caleb."

He leaned closer.

"As long as you work for me..."

"...and destroy your beloved husband."

Every word carried unmistakable excitement.

Yet it wasn't excitement that comforted Charity.

It terrified her.

Her lashes trembled as she considered his proposal.

She couldn't ignore the danger radiating from him.

His abyss-like gaze.

His unsettling smile.

His overwhelming presence.

None of it inspired trust.

And yet...

"What do you want me to do...?"

Charity asked quietly.

The corners of Lucas's lips slowly curled into a knowing smile.