Chapter Six

It’s been exactly twenty minutes since the Alpha left my chambers.

He could have been long gone by now.

Still, that didn’t stop me from rushing down to the lower floors, ignoring the stares that followed me as I moved. Men looked at me the way they always did—with hunger, with entitlement—but for once, I didn’t care.

I checked the poker rooms. The private lounges. The gambling halls. Nothing.

He was gone.

Frustration clawed at my chest. Of course he was. Why would a man like him linger?

I ran a hand through my hair and made my way to the bar.

“I’ll take the usual.”

The bartender didn’t ask questions. He never did.

I downed the drink in one go.

“I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again.”

My fingers froze around the glass.

That voice—

Slowly, I turned.

He was sitting right beside me, as if he’d been there all along. Cassian.

For a second, I just stared.

How did I miss him?

“You’re full of surprises,” I said, forcing my voice steady.

 “And you’re persistent,” he replied, taking a slow sip of his drink.

 This was it.

My only chance.

“I owe you an apology,” I began. “About earlier.”

 He didn’t respond.

So I kept going.

 “And...I also owe you a 'thank you'. You could have reported me to the Bishopp… but you didn’t.”

Still nothing.

Fine. No more games.

“I lied,” I said quietly. “Ruby isn’t my real name.”

That got his attention.

“And why are you telling me this now?” he questioned.

I took a breath. “Because I need your help.”

The words tasted bitter in my mouth.

“My ex—Alpha Jefferson—he betrayed me. He made everyone believe I was dead, and—”

“You want revenge,” Cassian cut in.

“Yes.”

“No.”

The answer came so easily, so effortlessly, it felt like a slap.

“You didn’t even let me finish—”

“I don’t need to.”

His gaze settled on me, cold and uninterested. “I don’t involve myself in other people’s personal vendettas.”

My chest tightened. “I’m not asking for charity,” I snapped. “We could help each other—”

“How?”

I opened my mouth, but the words stuck, because the truth was—I didn’t have anything he wanted.

“I can make it worth your while,” I said finally, hating myself even as I spoke.

His brow lifted slightly. “In what way?”

Heat crawled up my neck. “I’ve been here for two years,” I said. “I know how to please a man.”

Silence.

Then—

A low, humorless chuckle.

“You think that’s enough?”

The shame hit harder than any slap ever could.

“I’ll pay you,” I added quickly. “Every last tunam—I’ll—"

“And how are you going to afford such amount?” he cut in. “Sell yourself to the highest bidder and you’d still come up short.”

That did it. I pushed back from the stool.

“I’ve had too much to drink,” I muttered. “Forget I said anything.”

It was another day, and I was further away from my goal than I was the previous.   

***

I barely slept that night.

When I did, it wasn’t rest—it was him. Jefferson.

Always Jefferson.

I woke with a start, my body drenched in sweat, my heart pounding like it was trying to break free from my chest.

It was just a dream.

Just a dream.

I forced myself out of bed, moving to the window. For a moment, I swore I could feel it—

That familiar, suffocating presence, like I was being watched.

Like he’d found me.

A bang on the door snapped me out of it.

“Who is it?”

“Celia.”

Madame Celia was one of Bishopp’s oldest and favorite workers, but the other girls here had their own theories about her, some believed the woman shared a more intimate, secret, relationship with the Bishopp, and while those were no more than rumours, I’d found myself wondering a few times if there was some truth to them.

I let out a breath and pulled the door open.

She took one look at me and raised a brow. “Rough night?”

“You could say that.” I responded, holding the door open to let her in, but she remained by the door post.

“Actually, I’m here on the Bishopp’s orders. He wants you in his office. Now.”

My stomach dropped.

“Have I done something wrong?” 

“Have you?” she fired back.

I thought back to the incident only three days ago, that could get me into a whole lot of trouble.

 “No.” I lied.

“Then you have nothing to worry about.”

**

The Bishopp’s office sat at the very top floor.

I’d only been there a handful of times—and none of them had ended well.

Celia knocked once before pushing the door open.

“Come in.”

 I stepped inside—

—and froze.

 He was there. Cassian.

Seated like he owned the room, completely at ease, a thin trail of smoke curling from the cigarette between his fingers.

 My heart dropped to my stomach as I realized exactly why I was here.

 He’d told him.

“Ruby,” The Bishopp called, forcing me to tear my gaze away from the Alpha. “Is there something you’d like to tell me?”

My mind raced.

Deny.

That was the only option.

"I don't believe there is, sir."

“Are you certain?” he questioned sternly.

 My gaze returned to Cassian who hadn’t even acknowledged my presence. I watched him let out a stream of thick smoke before taking another drag from the stick.

 “Yes, sir.” I said with all the boldness I could muster.

“The Alpha believes otherwise.”

He finally met my gaze. And for the first time—I saw it.

Not anger. Not accusation.

Something else. Something... sharper.

“Three days ago,” the Bishopp continued, “the Alpha visited your chambers. A ring went missing shortly after.”

A ring?

“I don’t understand—”

“He believes you took it.”

“What?” I snapped. “I didn’t take anything!”

“Think carefully, Ruby.”

“I am. I didn’t steal any ring.”

The Bishopp studied me for a long moment before turning to Celia.

“Search her room.”

Celia left without hesitation. The silence that followed was suffocating.

Cassian didn’t look away from me.

He watched. Like he was waiting for something.

Celia returned minutes later. The slight shake of her head was the only indication that she'd indeed found nothing there. And I thought I saw relief on the Bishopp’s face. Cassian expression though remained unreadable.

“I’ll run a clean sweep through the building, perhaps it was misplaced, but if it was indeed stolen I will find you your thief and I will make them pay.”

“There’d be no need for that,” Cassian spoke up for the first time since I walked in. “The ‘thief’ is right before us.”

“I am no thief!” I snapped.

“Ruby. Silence.” Warned the Bishop, but Cassian had risen to his feet.

“If I stole a jewel worth such an amount, I wouldn’t hide it away in an apartment others have access to. No, I’d take it everywhere I go.” His gaze locked into mine, and I knew exactly what he meant even without him spelling it out.

The Bishopp didn’t seem very comfortable with this idea, but once again he motioned to Celia.

 “Check her,” he instructed, and then glanced at me, “And be thorough,” he added, before returning to his seat to pour himself a glass of wine.

“Take off the dress,” Celia ordered.

“What?”

“I won’t ask again. Take it off.”