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I slept through the remainder of the day and most of the night. If I intend to return to work today, I have to leave my house in less than six hours. That should be enough time to read the remainder of Wren’s report.

My head no longer hurts as I drag myself out of bed and into the shower, and I take my sweet time cleaning myself before shoving an ungodly amount of food down my throat and settling back on the couch with the report.

I dump everything into my lap, set aside the hospital records, and get reading.

Five hours pass in the blink of an eye. I’ve read every page twice, making sure not to miss a single detail. Rexton, for most of his life, has been boring as fuck. He was nothing special until he met my mother, and the information Wren was able to collect on him grew suspiciously sparse during the war and the years immediately after.

Then he vanishes entirely, which I assume is when he snuck into Greed. I can’t for the life of me figure out how he managed to remain undetected in her kingdom for so long.

He left when I was a child, way too young to retain memories. Had I recognized him in Greed, I would’ve put two and two together and adjusted my strategy accordingly. I would’ve been the one to murder Mammon.

I return the file to its hiding spot and finish preparing for work, already planning my next moves. Forcing Rexton to publicly submit to me isn’t an option, and I’ve already lost Aziel. He chose his allegiance, and it isn’t to me.

He’s never believed in me. I’ve always known it, and the way he stood back and watched Rexton harm me only proved it.

It’s disappointing, but I won’t mourn the loss. I’m crumbling, and allowing myself to feel the pain of my father’s betrayal isn’t something I’ll survive. I still have my siblings, Mom, and Gray. They’re all I need.

Aziel and Silas are nothing to me.

I spend my last remaining hour making myself as presentable as possible. People are probably talking about my absence, and I don’t intend to give them any reason for concern. If Rexton told them what he did to me, I’ll deny it. I’ll say Rexton is lying.

He may have earned some respect by murdering Mammon, but I’ve worked closely with these people for several years. They’ll believe me over Rexton. They have to.

I check my reflection in the mirror by my front door, looking myself over one last time. Demons don’t wear makeup. It’s incredibly noticeable with our enhanced eyesight, and it rarely looks good. Unfortunately, that leaves no way to cover the exhaustion under my eyes.

At least my hair looks good. The strands cooperated with me today, and I’m wearing an outfit I’ve been complimented onseveral times. Valeria picked it out for me, claiming the blood-red color makes my dark features stand out.

I’m hoping it draws attention away from my face.

“Don’t be such a coward, Cassia,” I whisper to myself. “You can do this.”

The longer I hide, the weaker I’ll look. I’ve given myself enough time to recover, and even though I’ve learned virtually nothing useful from Wren’s report, there’s confidence in knowing Rexton’s background.

I know where he was raised. I know where he attended school and which subjects he excelled in. I know every apartment he’s ever rented and every job he’s ever held. It’s better than nothing.

I could teleport to the office, but I don’t want to over-exhaust myself. I’m still healing, and teleporting will drain me. I’d like to be prepared in case Rexton attempts an attack. I can’t let myself be vulnerable.

I step outside.

The neighborhood I live in is already bustling, which brings me pause. Do I really want to do this? I could just disappear. My bracelet ensures I can’t leave Wrath or Lust, but I could abdicate my claim to Wrath and live a simple life within Lust. The sex demons aren’t the worst. I much prefer the violent and abrasive personalities within Wrath, but I’m willing to give it up if it means the never-ending humiliation finally ends.

That would mean letting Rexton win, though. I can’t let that happen.

I square my shoulders and lift my chin, shutting my front door behind me.

Chapter Twenty-Two

REXTON

I’VE UPSET CASSIA. It wasn’t intentional, but it doesn’t seem to matter.

Wraths smile widely at me as I walk through the building, and whispers follow in my wake. The attention is uncomfortable, especially here. Aziel gave me a job, and I don’t particularly enjoy being fawned over in my place of employment.

A woman raises her arm, her short, black hair bouncing around her head. “Rock!”

I pause, pressing my lips together as I struggle to remember her name. I faintly recognize her.

“I haven’t heard that name in a while,” I say. “You can call me Rexton.”