Page 15 of Intrigue (Dark Syndicate #4)

Alessandro

I lean back in my leather chair, the weight of the day pressing down as I review the latest security footage from Cassian’s gallery.

The shutters come down for the last time, and there’s a satisfaction in watching what little he has built here crumble.

Yet behind that, a pang of something unsettling, almost like regret.

This isn’t my first hostile takeover, but there’s something different about this one.

I pour another drink as I stand and watch lightning illuminate the city skyline from my home office. It is probably going to rain tonight.

My financial advisor enters with his usual precision and his tablet in hand. The financial report makes me smile as I flip through—Cassian’s complete destruction laid out in neat columns and percentages.

“The anonymous tip worked perfectly,” Marcus says, adjusting his tie. “His biggest investor pulled out this morning. The others will follow.”

“Numbers?”

“Gallery’s value dropped 60% overnight. Total losses approaching two million. No bank will touch him now.”

“Good. Make sure he doesn’t secure any outside funding.”

I can’t help but replay the flashbacks of orchestrating this downfall. It was seamless, really. Buying the gallery through shell companies, planting those rumors of money laundering and stolen art among Florence’s elites. I knew it would cause a scandal that Cassian couldn’t outrun.

I continue sifting through the tablet, sifting through eviction notices, each one bearing my signature. I imagine the look on Cassian’s face when he receives that final blow. There’s a sense of pride, yet something about this victory tastes different, bitter, perhaps.

I dismiss Marcus with a nod, settling back at my desk. The contract waiting there is the one meant for Selene, and it feels heavier than the stack of papers it really is. My phone vibrates, pulling me out of my reverie.

“What?” I snap.

“Sir.” It’s James again. This has to be his sixth call today. I put him in charge of monitoring the ins and outs of that gallery. “She just entered the building. Taking the elevator to Cassian’s temporary office.”

Of course she is. I stand, straightening my cuffs. “Keep your eyes peeled.”

The walk to the home gym takes exactly forty-seven steps.

I count them, using the rhythm to steady my thoughts.

A good five hours sweating out my frustration.

Then I take a shower and get dressed before retreating back to the office.

I replay the feeds, which show Cassian explaining everything to Selene, her face crumpling as reality sets in.

Victor appears beside me, his reflection ghosting across the monitors. “The eviction notice is ready for delivery tomorrow morning.”

“Good.”

“Sir...” My legal aid hesitates. In all the years he has been working for me, he’s never hesitated. “Are you certain about this approach?”

I turn, fixing him with a look that makes him step back. “Problem?”

“No, sir. Just... unprecedented.”

He’s right. This is different. Personal. The usual satisfaction of crushing an opponent feels hollow. I watch Selene comfort Cassian, her hand on his shoulder, and something burns in my chest.

“Leave,” I tell Victor. Once alone, I pull up the gallery’s original purchase documents. Every shell company, every false trail, every piece of leverage, perfect in its execution.

A few minutes later, rain is pelting against windows forty-seven floors up. Thunder cracks again as my office door opens.

I stand, grabbing a drink from the bar, waiting for her to say something. It isn’t long before Selene speaks up, cheeks flushed with fury. Her eyes lock on mine, my gaze moving over her soaked form and for a moment, I almost wish I felt nothing at all.

“You’re despicable.” Her voice shakes with rage as she closes the distance between us.

I take a slow sip. “I prefer practical.”

Her fingers dig into her palms, her shoulders rigid. “You broke my heart, Sandro. You made damn sure I knew I meant nothing to you. So why? Why the hell are you doing all of this to a man who has done nothing but pick up the trash you dumped? Why the hell are you doing this to him?”

I set my glass down. “Because I can.”

“That’s not an answer.”

I turn fully toward her, letting her see just how little I care about her outrage. “I’m not in the habit of explaining myself.”

“Then let me make it simple.” Her breath is uneven, her chest rising fast. “What do you want?”

I take my time. Let her stew in the silence. Then, finally— “He keeps his gallery. His reputation stays intact. But I get something in return.”

She swallows hard. “What?”

I step closer. “You.”

The word lands like a strike. Her whole body locks up, disbelief flashing in her eyes before something deeper creeps in.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I am.” I let my voice dip, just enough to remind her exactly how serious I was two weeks ago in her kitchen with her back against the counter, my hand around her throat, and Cassian just upstairs. As I fucked her in her own kitchen.

The moment hits her too and I see it in the way her lips part, in the sharp inhale she tries to smother.

Finally, she lets out a bitter laugh. “Do you even hear yourself? I’m engaged. You talk like Cassian and I are nothing. Like I can just—”

“Yet you let me fuck you while he was upstairs.”

She exhales sharply. “Stop that.”

“No.”

“For Chrissakes. Why now, Sandro?” Her voice is quieter, but it cuts just as deep. “You never wanted to claim me out loud before. You hid what we were. You threw me away like I was nothing. So why the hell are you suddenly bold enough to do this now? What if my father hears about this?”

I let the silence stretch.

Then, finally— “Because I’m not answering to your father anymore.”

Her breath hitches.

I step closer, forcing her to meet my eyes. “Because you were never safe, Selene. Because the second you came back, you put yourself in his crosshairs all over again.”

Confusion appears. “What are you talking about?”

I could tell her. That she’s a threat to the man she still calls her father. That she’s walking around with a target on her back.

But I don’t.

Instead, I lean in and lower my voice. “Think about it, Selene. Cassian keeps everything. And all it will cost is you.”

The air between us tightens, thick with everything we haven’t said. The storm outside howls against the glass, but I don’t move. Neither does she.

I watch her, waiting for her decision.

As she stands in front of me, I feel that unfamiliar pang of guilt again. It’s a weakness, but I brush it aside. My desire for control outweighs all else, yet her presence complicates everything. Just as I’ve orchestrated every move in this game, I need to see this through.

I slide the contract across my desk. “Read it.”

She doesn’t move. “Just tell me.”

“One year. You live here, work for me, belong to me completely. In exchange, Cassian keeps everything.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then watch me destroy everything he has. Your choice.”

She takes three steps forward, picks up the contract. “That doesn’t even make sense... Cassian and I are due to marry in a few months. How am I supposed to live with you?”

“You aren’t going to marry him as quickly as you thought. Delay the wedding till this is done.”

“And fuck you in between that time, right?”

I raise my glass to her and smile wickedly. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

“You’ve planned this from the start, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

Her fingers tremble, but she forces them into a fist. “Why?”

I should say power, control, victory, really those are the easy answers. But none of them are true.

So I say the real one. “Because I had to know if you’d choose him or yourself.”

Lightning flashes, catching the tears she won’t let fall.

“You are such a prick.”

I step closer. “I know.”

She picks up the contract, turning toward the door. “I’ll have my answer tomorrow.”

I let her go. “Thirty days, Selene. That’s all he has.”

The thunder crashes just as she marches out of my office. The sound reverberates through the room, but nothing drowns out the satisfaction of a plan well-executed, even if a part of me resents what it’s cost.

Selene needs time to process, to sit with the decision she never wanted to make. But it doesn’t matter. She’s already in.

By the time she reaches Cassian, the eviction notice will have arrived. His gallery, his pride, and his entire world would be ripped out from under him.

Cassian will fight it. He’ll make his calls, try to find a way out. He won’t.

Because the ground beneath him already belongs to me.

And now, so does Selene.

I’ve won, exactly as planned. So why does victory feel like defeat?