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Aziel can force me to come to work, but he can’t force me to participate.

I waste time clicking around on my computer, skimming through the million messages I’ve missed. There are more than I anticipated, and it seems there was a minor uproar from the Pitters while I was gone.

I’m not surprised. The pits were run through while I was young. Rumor has it that a handful of Wraths were using it as their personal murder ground, and Aziel eventually shut it down altogether. Most Wraths have come to accept its demise, but the Pitters wish to see it reinstated. They cause trouble every few months, and I’m relieved I wasn’t here to deal with their latest fit.

A knock on my door draws my attention. It’s heavy and deliberate, which isn’t a good sign. Most people approach me with a high level of trepidation, and I can count on one hand the number of people who don’t.

Aziel is one of them.

It’s precisely why I don’t respond to the knock. I ignore it, pretending not to have heard as I continue flicking through my missed messages. I’m hardly surprised when there’s another knock several seconds later, and I resist the urge to slam my face against my desk when my doorknob begins to turn.

I didn’t lock it. Rookie mistake.

The door is pushed open, and I frown as I lock eyes with my infuriating father. Aziel hardly reacts to my outward glaring. In fact, I’d go as far as to say he’s going out of his way to ignore it. He smiles and raises an arm, showcasing a bag from my favorite pastry shop.

I blink, not acknowledging his intrusion as he steps inside my office.

“I brought you a little something.” He kicks the door shut behind him. “I had a box of treats delivered to your office a little over an hour ago. Your name is on it.”

Am I supposed to thank him for that? I don’t need him to bribe my team on my behalf. It’s condescending, and I don’t appreciate the meddling.

“Are you planning on leaving your office at any time today?” Aziel continues.

I shrug. “I’m busy.”

“You’re not.”

I am, actually. I bite my tongue, knowing nothing productive will come from arguing with Aziel. I concentrate on the paperwork on my desk instead, tracing the curves of every number and letter. The ink is black, and I can tell by the sheer amount of bolding and underlining that this crossed Jassy’s desk before landing on mine.

“Thanks for stopping by,” I say, carefully working through every word, “but I should be getting back to work.”

I gesture toward the door, but my gaze catches on the bag in Aziel’s hand. I’m hungry, and it smells good.

Aziel shakes his head. “You can eat during our board meeting. We’ve been putting off discussing next year’s budgets, but we can’t postpone any longer.” Aziel steps back and grabs my doorknob. “Everybody is waiting for you in the meeting hall. Let’s go.”

“No, thank you.”

“You have to participate, Cassia.”

“I do not.”

“You have more opinions than everybody in that room combined, my love. You need to attend.” Aziel opens my office door, exposing me to the common room beyond. “Let’s go.”

I work my jaw side to side, my anger boiling. I don’t appreciate being spoken to in this manner. I’ve told Aziel I’m busy, and he needs to respect that. He should be glad I even showed up today. I was up all last night debating it.

“Come, Cassia.”

Aziel speaks loud enough to be overheard. I ignore the several faces that turn in our direction. Aziel and I don’t work well together—we never have—and our arguing isn’t anything unfamiliar. Usually it’smesnapping athim, though. I much prefer it that way.

Aziel remains in the doorway, and when he subtly widens his stance, I realize he’s preparing for a fight. He’s willing to drag me out of this room, kicking and screaming if need be. No less than a million snarky remarks flash through my mind, but I remain silent. I’m not feeling my best after spending so many days atrophying in bed, and I don’t want to say something I end up regretting.

“I’m not leaving without you,” Aziel threatens.

I shove back my chair and storm out of my office. Let’s just get this over with. I don’t have time for Aziel’s games. I’ll attend this one stupid meeting, then return to hiding.

Aziel follows me, his footfalls quiet as I head toward the meeting hall. Our budget discussions only happen once a year, and I usually look forward to them. I have one of the loudest voices in the room, and I almost always get what I want.

I may not be prepared this year, but I anticipate a similar outcome.