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Rather than glare at Oleander, Cassandra’s gaze remained fixated on the window.
“Wait. This says you’re not yet sixty. That has to be a mistake. You look so much older.” Oleander shook her head. “Mithras ruined your life, so you forced your other son to kill him.”
“I did not force him.”
The abrupt transition was intentional, and it worked. However, we already knew Xavier was responsible for Mithras’ death.
“Was he the hit man in the family, or was that your daughter? You know what I find interesting? Your son and daughter are both dead. So are your stepson and stepdaughter. Is Ananke the mythological creature who ate her offspring? I can’t remember.”
“Mithras deserved to die,” Cassandra said, folding her arms and lowering her gaze. It was the first time she looked away from the window.
“She’s ready to talk,” I murmured.
Oleander walked to the opposite side of the table and sat down. “Tell me why. You said he ruined your life.”
When she spoke, her tone was softer. “Not my life.”
“What, then?”
“After his mother died?—”
“You mean after Xavier killed her,” said Poseidon.
“Mithras turned against the family, the people who raised him, who provided for him.”
“What did he do?”
“Many things. He made alliances outside the family. He was sloppy.”
“With the Calabrians?”
She nodded. “Mistakes that cost us millions.”
“Felixstowe,” I said.
“Like the Felixstowe delivery?”
She didn’t respond, but she didn’t need to.
Oleander shook her head. “One hundred people, some bound for slave auctions, all rescued.”
“Slave auctions,” Cassandra spat. “Cronos and I never did things like that. Mithras, he did. Another big mistake.”
“You mean the women rescued from his villa?”
She shook her head. “He did not get permission. He went against what we told him, and he was caught. Stupid fucking idiot.”
“What did you tell him to do?” Poseidon asked.
“More what we told him not to. He never should’ve brought the woman to Gozo. That was just part of his downfall.”
“Bexli?” I asked.
“Right, Bexli,” said O. “The woman your mother rescued.”
“He shouldn’t have taken her. Charlene”—she spat the name as much as said it—“had to get her out. She was supposed to get Selene out too, but she was too late.”
“Why Bexli?”