The smoke from Caden's cigar hung thick in the air, curling in slow, deliberate swirls, as if it, too, was waiting for the storm to pass. He leaned back in the leather chair, the firelight dancing across his face, casting sharp shadows over his hard, unreadable features. In his other hand, the whisky glinted in the low light, the amber liquid shifting as he swirled it, the soft clink of the glass against his fingers the only sound in the room.
It was quiet here—too quiet—but the stillness was a comfort to him. The silence gave him space to think. To plot. To plan. And tonight, he needed both.
The thick cigar smoke lingered on his lips as he exhaled slowly, his eyes narrowing with the weight of his thoughts. His gaze shifted to the flames, flickering in the hearth, casting brief shadows across the walls. Bastard. He could feel the heat in his chest, the simmering fury.
"What are you thinking, Caden?" The voice cut through the silence, low and steady, but there was an edge to it—a warning that didn't need to be spoken aloud.
Caden didn't look up. He simply took another slow drag from his cigar, the ember burning red-hot before he spoke, his voice cold and calm, betraying none of the anger twisting beneath his surface. "I'm thinking about the idiot who made the mistake of dealing with me. The fool who thinks he can use me as a pawn in his little game."
Darian, his ever-loyal right-hand man, stepped forward, keeping his distance. He was cautious, not wanting to provoke the volatile mood that Caden seemed to wear like a second skin. "I understand the frustration. But we've already made our move. There's no backing out now."
Caden's lips curled into a smile, though there was no warmth in it. The corners of his mouth turned down into a cruel sneer, and for a moment, he was still—so still, like a predator watching its prey. "A move," he repeated, his tone tinged with disgust. "That's all it was. A deal made in the shadows. The problem is, they think I'll play by their rules. But I'm not a man of rules. Never have been."
He flicked the ash from his cigar with the precise motion of someone used to being in control. He didn't need to look at it to know it was burning low. "This isn't about making a deal. It's about showing him who's truly in control. The game's already been set in motion. But I'll make sure to stack the odds in my favor." His voice dropped, an ominous chill creeping into his words. "I'll turn their little game on its head."
Darian waited, standing a few feet away, the tension between them palpable. He'd seen Caden angry before—he'd seen the way his fury turned inward, how it became something darker, more dangerous. But this was different. This wasn't just anger—it was cold calculation, a precise plan forming behind those ice-cold eyes.
"You'll visit Ana's family tomorrow, then," Darian ventured cautiously, trying to read Caden's thoughts. "Make it official. Seal the engagement. It'll be a step forward for us."
Caden's eyes flicked toward him, sharp and unblinking. There was a dangerous glint in his gaze, a sharpness that made Darian take a half-step back, despite himself. "Official?" Caden echoed. "They want an official announcement? Fine. But I'll make sure they remember who forced it."
His lips curled into something approaching a smile, but it was more of a twisted, calculated thing. He took another sip of his whisky, savoring the burn as it slid down his throat. "I'll visit. I'll play the part they want. But they won't get the satisfaction of thinking they've controlled me. Not even for a moment."
Darian's brow furrowed, sensing that Caden was still playing a deeper game. "You've been planning this for a long time. What exactly do you want out of this visit?"
Caden's fingers tightened slightly around the glass, the delicate crystal threatening to crack under his grip, but he controlled it with the same precision he did everything else. "What do I want?" he repeated, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I want them to understand that this engagement is nothing more than a stepping stone for me. They think they can use me as a pawn, but I'll remind them that I don't play by anyone's rules."
He leaned back in his chair, staring into the flames for a moment, as though seeing something no one else could. "Once I'm done, they'll be begging for my mercy."
Darian watched him closely, the weight of his words settling like a shadow in the room. "And Ana?"
Caden didn't answer immediately. Instead, he took another long draw from his cigar, exhaling slowly, watching the smoke drift up in slow spirals. "Ana…" His voice softened slightly, as though he were mulling over something, the calm before the storm. "She's just part of the plan. But she'll learn soon enough that she's not as untouchable as she thinks. If she wants to play the innocent, naïve woman, she can. But the moment she realizes what's at stake…" He trailed off, his gaze flicking to Darian, the fire in his eyes unmistakable.
He stood abruptly, tossing his cigar into the ashtray, the embers smoldering. "Tomorrow, I'll visit. And I'll make sure they know exactly where they stand."
Darian hesitated before speaking again, his voice low but firm. "You know what you're doing, don't you?"
Caden looked at him, his expression cold but filled with an unspoken promise. "Always."