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“Nothing.” Wren shakes his head. “I’m just confused as to why you’re looking into the man who murdered Mammon. Do you suspect he will attempt something against your family?”

He knows Rexton murdered Mammon? I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised. Wren keeps tabs on every high-profile person within Wrath, even the ones most wouldn’t realize are worth monitoring. I had no idea Rexton existed, but I wouldn’t be shocked to learn that Wren has been watching him for years.

What does Wren know aboutme? I used to fear he was only interested in me because of the connections it granted him. I brought him to family dinners and introduced him to my parents. I told him secrets. I was a valuable asset.

I told myself he loved me for who I was. Nobody could convince me otherwise. How humiliating. I see Wren for who he is now. He’s an opportunist, and he’s conniving.

He’s the only man who can find the information I want.

“Cassia…” Wren urges. “Why are you looking into Rexton?”

I lean back in my chair, debating what to say. Wren is known for his discretion, but I’m not an ordinary woman. My parents aren’t ordinary people, either. My biological father is his king. Wren will do almost anything to get in Aziel’s good graces, especially after the cheating scandal.

Mom refuses to be in the same room as him, and my fathers pretend he doesn’t exist. It must crush his precious ego to be so publicly snubbed by the royal family.

“I suspect Rexton is going to be a nuisance,” I admit. “But I don’t believe he’s a danger to my family.”

It’s not a lie. I need to know who Rexton is before he returns and weasels his way into my family’s good graces, but notbecause I’m concerned about him murdering us. I need to know who Rexton is so I can destroy him, preferably both publicly and privately.

Wren sucks his lips into his mouth, his eyes narrowing. He’s evaluating me, hoping to find the hidden emotion behind my request. I stare blankly back at him, giving him nothing to work with. Wren and I dated for a little over a year. I know him.

I know his ambitions.

“I assume you’ve heard that Gray has formally stepped down,” I say. “My brother is now the King of Lust.”

Wren nods. “I’m aware.”

“David has a soft spot for you.”

That’s a mild way of describing it. David knew Wren first. They met at a brothel. I was told Wren was there on business, following a Wrath man whose wife suspected an affair. David is drawn to drama like a moth to a flame, and the pair became fast friends.

David thought himself a little investigator. He invited Wren to a family party.

I fucked Wren that very same night. It was mainly to piss off David, but also because I liked the way Wren carried himself. He was everything I thought I wanted in a man.

“Davidhada soft spot for me,” Wren corrects me. “He hasn’t spoken to me since you and I broke up, and I was forcibly escorted out of Lust the few times I tried visiting him.”

I glance at my hands, holding back a smile. I hate David, but he’s a good brother. He was the first person I ran to after walking in on Wren. He didn’t ask a single question or crack a single joke, and as far as I know, he hasn’t spoken to Wren since.

“I’d be willing to put in a good word,” I say.

I’m not sure it’ll change anything, but I’m willing to try. I’m desperate for information on Rexton, and if it means havingWren back in my life, then so be it. We broke up years ago. I’m over it. Over him.

Wren lets out a long, drawn-out sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, which means he’s about to concede. He always makes a show of it, probably so the other person feels like they owe him. I don’t let myself feel that emotion. I owe Wren nothing.

“Very well,” he finally says. “Is there anything specific you’d like to know?”

I shake my head. “No. I want everything. Let me know when you’re finished.”

I can’t be in this office any longer. It’s suffocating, and I don’t bother with polite pleasantries as I take my leave. Jassy’s chatting up the receptionist, and she strolls over as I emerge from the stairwell.

“That was fast,” she notes.

“It was a quick conversation.”

Jassy falls silent, waiting for me to elaborate. I don’t. She most likely suspects I was reconnecting with Wren, that my failure to murder Mammon and recent depression have pushed me to take back the man who publicly humiliated me. I’d never stoop so low, but I let Jassy believe it.

“Is there anything else we need to do here?” she asks.