Twenty Six

CHAPTER 26

Cassandra stepped into the bustling lobby of Emperal Hospital, her nerves taut as she scanned the room for Detective Martinez. The hospital’s sterile white walls and the constant shuffle of doctors and patients only heightened her unease. She finally spotted Martinez near the reception desk, holding a brown envelope that seemed to carry the weight of the Foster case within it.

“Detective,” Cassandra greeted, her voice steady despite the storm brewing inside her.

Martinez turned, his face lined with a mixture of fatigue and determination. “Cassandra,” he said, gesturing for her to follow him. They walked down a quieter corridor before stopping in an empty waiting room. Martinez handed her the envelope.

“These are the fingerprint samples collected from Michael Foster’s residence,” he began, his voice low. “It’s a lot, Cassandra. More than we’d normally expect for a typical scene.”

Cassandra opened the envelope, pulling out the evidence sheets. The number of distinct fingerprints listed made her brow furrow. “This many?” she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief. “Could there have been multiple people at the scene?”

Martinez nodded grimly. “Yes. Michael Foster hosted a party the night before he was found dead. It was a celebration—apparently, he had just sealed a major business deal.”

Cassandra’s heart sank as the pieces began to align in her mind. “Let me guess,” she said, her tone measured. “The deal was with Antonio Franches.”

Martinez’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You guessed it. Antonio’s name keeps popping up in this case, but we need more than just his association with Foster. That’s where you come in.”

Cassandra met his gaze, her resolve hardening. “What do you need me to do?”

Martinez crossed his arms. “We need a list of every guest who attended that party. Foster was known for his extravagant gatherings, and there’s a good chance someone saw or heard something important that night.”

Cassandra nodded, already forming a plan in her head. “I’ll find out who was there,” she promised. “I’ll dig through any guest lists, social media posts, anything I can get my hands on.”

Martinez’s expression softened slightly. “I knew I could count on you,” he said. “But be careful, Cassandra. If Antonio is involved, you’re treading on dangerous ground.”

Cassandra gave him a tight smile. “When am I not?”

Martinez’s phone buzzed, and he glanced at the screen before giving her a curt nod. “I have to get back to the precinct. Keep me updated.”

As Martinez walked away, Cassandra clutched the envelope tightly, her mind racing. The mention of Antonio at every turn was no longer just coincidence—it was a thread connecting everything. And now, with the fingerprints and the party, the thread was becoming a noose.

Back at Antonio’s office, Cassandra re-entered the room to find him sitting casually in his chair, swirling a glass of whiskey in one hand. The air was thick with an undercurrent of tension, and she immediately noticed that Ben was no longer present.

“Back so soon?” Antonio drawled, raising an eyebrow at her.

Cassandra forced a smile, slipping back into her role. “Work doesn’t leave much time for long breaks.”

Antonio leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “You’re always so dutiful,” he said, his tone laced with mockery. “But remember, Cassandra, your first duty is to me.”

The sharp edge in his voice made her stomach churn, but she nodded, playing along. “Of course.”

Antonio’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he leaned back, his smirk returning. “Good. Now, why don’t you tell me what’s really keeping you so busy?”

Cassandra kept her expression neutral, her mind racing for an answer that wouldn’t raise suspicion. “Just chasing leads for stories,” she said lightly. “Nothing as glamorous as it sounds.”

Antonio studied her, his dark eyes searching for cracks in her facade. “You’re full of surprises, Cassandra,” he said, his voice low and almost teasing. “Just don’t forget who holds the cards in this little arrangement.”

His words hung in the air like a challenge, but Cassandra didn’t flinch. Instead, she gave him another practiced smile. “I never forget, Antonio.”

As she sat there, her thoughts drifted back to the evidence Martinez had given her. Antonio’s web of influence stretched farther than she had imagined, and the more she uncovered, the more dangerous her position became. But for now, she had to bide her time and play her role—because the truth was a weapon, and she intended to use it when the moment was right.

Antonio sipped his whiskey, his dark gaze never really leaving Cassandra. He set the glass down slowly, then spoke in a soft yet deliberate tone, “Make me happy tonight.”

Cassandra froze. Her breath caught for a moment, and questions immediately swirled in her mind. What did he mean? Why was he saying this so suddenly? She worked hard to keep her expression neutral, even though confusion clouded her thoughts. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice sounding calmer than she felt.

Antonio only smiled—a smile that felt more like a warning than an invitation. He rose from his chair, his steps slow but deliberate as he approached Cassandra. Each movement seemed to make the air in the room heavier. Cassandra felt her body tense. Her hands clenched tightly on her lap, her fingers gripping the fabric of her trousers, trying to suppress the tension surging through her.

Antonio stopped just behind her. His warm breath touched the nape of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. “Don’t pretend you don’t understand, Cassandra,” he whispered, his voice a near murmur that filled the empty space between them.

Cassandra’s hands clenched even tighter, but she remained silent, refusing to react to the game Antonio was clearly trying to play.

Antonio leaned in closer, his lips brushing softly against the skin of her neck, kissing her in a way that made her heartbeat race uncontrollably, despite her desire to resist him. The sensation of his breath against her skin only made it harder to breathe. Cassandra closed her eyes, trying to summon the strength to stay composed.

“I have another gift for you,” Antonio finally said, his voice low but filled with promise.

Cassandra opened her eyes, trying to read his intentions behind the cryptic statement. They locked eyes, Antonio’s gaze shimmering with something she couldn’t quite define—dominance, seduction, or perhaps a darker game altogether. She fought the urge to recoil, even though her entire body screamed to resist.

“What kind of gift?” Cassandra asked, her voice calm despite the unease coursing through her.