A piercing ring from her cellphone fractured Cassidy's dream, dragging her from the cozy depths of sleep. For a moment, she lay still, blinking against the encroaching dawn that filtered through the blinds.

 

Beside her, Rebecca stirred but did not wake. Cassidy gazed at her before tracing a lazy pattern on the curve of Rebecca’s bare shoulder.

 

The ring came again, a sharp reminder of the world beyond their warm cocoon. With a sigh, Cassidy extracted herself from Rebecca’s half-embrace. Her skin tingled in the morning chill as she retrieved her cellphone from the floor, which she had discarded among her clothes. She winced as the screen’s harsh light pierced her eyes.

 

Blinking furiously, Cassidy swiped at her eyes before peering at the cellphone screen again. Naomi’s Hiltz’s name glowed brightly on the screen. Her eyebrows shot up, and she accepted the call.

 

“Hi, Cassidy,” a feminine voice said from the other end. “It’s been a while.”

 

“It’s wonderful to hear from you,” she said, her voice groggy. She rubbed her eyes once more. “How have you been? Is your recovery going smoothly?”

 

“I’m starting to feel like I’m on the upswing. I can actually move without wincing in agony. Thanks again for stepping in and covering my bills.”

 

“It was my pleasure. And don’t forget, I have an ulterior motive. I look forward to watching you defeat Andrea.”

 

“About that… I’m sorry to bother you again, but do you still offer your services as a detective? I need to find out if Andrea was behind the attack.”

 

A spark jolted through her, snapping her eyes open. Took her long enough, she mused before recalling the incident and investigation from four months prior.

 

Naomi was stabbed in the thigh before her match against her long-time adversary, Andrea Belmont. Samuel Wells, Andrea's then-boyfriend, was responsible. After his swift arrest, the police interrogated him to determine his motive. He pointed the finger at Andrea, alleging that she ordered him to commit the crime. No evidence was found to support Sam’s claim, however. And with her father’s power, the prosecution decided it wasn’t worth pursuing.

 

Despite the juicy details surrounding the case, Cassidy chose not to pursue it further. More urgent cases demanded her attention, and Naomi hadn’t yet reached out for assistance.

 

“I cannot guarantee results,” Cassidy said, “but I can give it my all. I’ll start by interrogating Sam and—”

 

“That’s…not an option, I’m afraid. Sam’s no longer with us.”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“He took his own life. Supposedly. I can’t shake the feeling something is off. What if he was murdered, and the killer staged it to look like a suicide?”

 

With pursed lips, Cassidy dove headfirst into the sea of likelihoods. It’s within the realm of possibility, she acknowledged. Things weren’t always as straightforward as they appeared. However, for it to be a murder, there had to be an identifiable perpetrator. There had to be someone with means, motive, and opportunity.

 

Cassidy nodded as her mind untangled the knot. The reason behind Naomi’s newfound curiosity was clear. “You believe Andrea orchestrated Sam’s death and disguised it as a suicide?”

 

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Rebecca chimed in.

 

Cassidy twisted her head to Rebecca, who was still nestled in the blankets with eyes clamped shut. The rigidity of her jaw and the slight furrow on her forehead betrayed her wakefulness.

 

“I know how wild this sounds,” Naomi said, “but isn’t it plausible?”

 

The rhythmic tapping of her foot became Cassidy’s metronome, setting the pace for her racing thoughts. Andrea has a motive if she did indeed mastermind the stabbing. Sam had betrayed her, after all. So, the question wasn’t if she’d do it, but how.

 

How would I handle this situation if I were in Andrea’s position?

 

Simple: she’d identify who could enter Sam’s prison cell and contact them.

 

So, who had the power to enter his cell?

 

Prison guards, obviously. They had the most immediate access, not to mention the potential for corruption. However, they weren’t the only option. Other inmates existed. They could be manipulated into carrying out the dirty work. Prison gangs and such likewise could execute such a scheme.

 

What’s more, a corrupt official was an option; they probably wouldn’t have direct access, but their influence could allow them to orchestrate a murder. Then there were outside contractors – their access would likely be limited and more scrutinized, but they weren’t beyond suspicion.

 

The medical staff would possess the opportunity to harm Sam as well, though the scrutiny they faced made it unlikely. The same was likely for any counsel.

 

The lowest two possibilities were a professional hitman or Sam’s lawyer. Smuggling a hitman into a prison undetected required massive resources and risk. Likewise, the high risk made Sam’s lawyer an unlikely candidate.

 

Thus, a prison guard, inmate, or gang were the most likely culprits – assuming there was a culprit. Her approach was still nothing more than a working theory. She hadn’t even considered how such a person would be located and contacted yet. And she didn’t yet know the particulars of Sam’s apparent suicide. Questions upon questions remained.

 

But was it plausible?

 

Certainly.

 

“How much time has passed since he passed?” Cassidy asked.

 

“It’s been three days,” Naomi said. “I’m surprised this news didn’t reach you sooner.”

 

“I’ve been occupied.”

 

“Ah, sorry if I caught you at a bad time.”

 

“No need to apologize. It’s better to hear it now, as it’ll make things easier in the long run. I still cannot promise results, but I’ll spare no effort in investigating the matter.”

 

Their conversation winded down towards its end and wrapped up on a hopeful note. Naomi thanked Cassidy once more, and after reassuring her about her commitment to the case, Cassidy ended the call and shifted her gaze back to Rebecca.

 

Rebecca’s bare, peachy skin caught the soft morning light filtering through the blinds. Her sheets were gathered around her waist, revealing the elegant curve of her shoulder.

 

“So, is it finally happening?” Rebecca asked. “Are we going after Andrea at last?”

 

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We can’t assume Andrea’s guilt without sufficient evidence.”

 

“Come on, it’s Andrea! You know she’s capable of anything.”

 

“It’s not a matter of capability, but culpability. We’re already playing a dangerous game by taking the law into our own hands. We must be mindful of our actions.”

 

Rebecca’s glare was a well-aimed dart, straight and piercing. “You can ease up on the noble thief stuff. Your grandpa’s not even here to hear you preach.”

 

Cassidy’s teeth ground together as the storm behind Rebecca’s eyes whittled her patience. I mustn’t let this affect me, she thought. Becca wasn’t in the right state of mind. It was her pain talking. Thus, she had to be the ice to Rebecca’s fire.

 

“What happens if we wrongly harm Andrea?” Cassidy asked, her voice as cool as the surface of a marble statue. “What separates us from the villains if we act with the same lack of restraint?”

 

Rebecca’s rigid posture slackened as her fiery gaze extinguished. Her head bowed, and a faint frown tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Sorry… I didn’t mean to get carried away.”

 

Cassidy reached out to Rebecca with a delicate touch and gently tilted her face upward. Their eyes met, and Cassidy leaned in. Her lips found Rebecca’s in a soft, reassuring kiss.

 

“No harm done,” she said. “I simply wish for you to see my perspective. Supervision or not, I have conviction in this.”

 

Rebecca released a long, weighted sigh. “You know, it’s really unfair how hot you can be even when you’re being a pain.”

 

“I could say the same about you,” Cassidy said, her lips twitching up into a smirk.

 

A soft buzz from Cassidy’s phone stole their attention. She picked it up and found a new message from her mother.

 

Be at the penthouse by noon.

 

The glaring digits on her phone read 9:44. Cassidy’s heart skipped a beat. Although she was in the city, reaching Cain International would still take some time – especially when she had Diego and Sam to worry about. She texted Wynn to fetch her and bring one of her suits before entering the shower.

 

Sizzling water cascaded over her like a silk shawl, washing away the remnants of her night with Rebecca. Steam swirled around her while droplets hammered against her skin, each a kiss of soothing heat. The water traced the lines of her slender, sculpted figure, meandering down her collarbone, spilling over her breasts, and skimming the flat plane of her stomach before merging with the drain below.

 

Knowing Mother, Cassidy thought as she worked shampoo through her silky hair, I have a new assignment.

 

If that were the case, she’d likely be off to somewhere else. Her work demanded she travel occasionally, as she was officially the company's public face.

 

“Sablin,” she cursed. She couldn’t prioritize investigating Sam’s death or confronting Diego if she had to address her duties.

 

She’d have to entrust the tasks to the others.

 

The blueprint of her day took shape as the water tapered off into a gentle patter, and Cassidy exited the shower.

 

There was a knock on the door just as she finished. Rebecca appeared at the other end, a sly smile playing on her lips as she handed over Cassidy’s outfit, one of her many black suits.

 

Cassidy pattered herself dry before slipping on her crisp white blouse. Her tie, a dash of red against the white, was tightened around her neck next.

 

Her knee-length skirt was carefully pulled up and secured around her waist, its straight cut adding a touch of elegance to the ensemble. Then she slid into her stockings. The fine mesh fabric hugged her legs.

 

Finally, she donned the suit jacket, its tailored cut fitting her like a second skin, and stepped into her heels.

 

A glance into the mirror revealed Cassidy fully transformed into Cain International’s corporate ambassador. She gave herself a once over before smirking. It was time to show them all who was in control.