Cassandra Marten didn’t blink as she let her words linger in the sun-drenched atrium. Her voice, smooth as silk, carried the kind of weight that only came with years of privilege and ruthless decision-making.
“If you want my loyalty… it’ll cost you.”
Dominic straightened beside me, his eyes unreadable. “Name it.”
Cassandra walked slowly to the center of the room, her heels tapping against the marble like a countdown. “Trevor offered me three things: an exclusive contract with three of the Circle’s East African logistics routes, immunity from internal audit, and a favor—one that can be called in at any time, without question.”
Dominic flinched.
“That’s not an offer,” he muttered. “It’s a noose.”
She shrugged. “Call it what you like. It was generous.”
My voice cut through the tension.
