Cassie’s POV
The next day I came into the office feeling unusually tired. I’d already set his coffee on his desk and settled into my seat, hoping today would be less dramatic than yesterday. Except there was still the whole CeCe thing sitting in my head — finding out she used to date Mr. Blackwood in college.
Honestly, a small part of me was jealous. Which made no sense.
Snap off it, Cassie. It’s not like he belongs to you. Then again, he did ask me to be his girlfriend, technically.
(Door bangs open.)
"Cassie. My office. Now." He stormed past me, voice sharp.
"Yes, sir." I jumped up and smoothed my skirt. I hadn’t even realized he’d already arrived.
My heart was racing by the time I got to his door. He sounded angry, so I figured I’d done something wrong and was about to get yelled at.
"Come in."
I walked in and stood across from his desk.
"Sir, you sent for me."
He didn’t look up from his computer.
"What’s my schedule today?"
I pulled up my iPad. "You have the committee meeting at 11, in the conference room. Lunch at Maison Noir, and—"
Before I could finish, an older man — expensive suit, expensive everything — barged straight into the office.
Who is that? Nobody just walks into his office. It’s supposed to go through me. And he didn’t even knock.
I was about to say something — tell him Mr. Blackwood wasn’t supposed to have any visitors today — when I heard one word that stopped me cold.
"Dad."
Wait, what. His dad. Thank god I hadn’t said anything, because that would’ve been exactly the kind of mistake he’d use as an excuse to get rid of me.
"Cassie, you can go."
"Yes, sir." I slipped out quietly. I could feel his dad watching me the whole way to the door.
I sat back down at my desk and, I’ll admit, listened in.
"Haven’t you heard?" His dad’s voice carried through the glass.
"Heard what, Dad?"
"Your grandfather’s dead. Died yesterday. Stopped responding to treatment."
"Hm. Okay."
Hm. Okay. That’s it? I would’ve given anything to know even one thing about my own grandparents, and he had one, and that’s how he reacted. Nothing.
"That’s it?" His dad’s voice got sharper.
"It was going to happen eventually. He asked to stop treatment himself. You were the one who refused. He was suffering."
"So it’s my fault now? For wanting to keep my father alive?"
"We both know that was never about caring about him."
"Don’t talk to me like that. We’re having a family meeting this weekend, and you’re going to be there."
He didn’t even glance up. "Don’t. I won’t be there."
"You will. Or you know what happens." His dad was already walking out, security trailing him. "Bring flowers. It’s your mother’s death anniversary."
A few minutes later the intercom buzzed. "This is Mr. Blackwood’s office."
"My office. Now."
His voice alone made my stomach drop.
"Sir, you sent for me."
He cleared his throat, staring at me. I hate when he does that, it makes me wonder, do I have something on my face? In my teeth? I hadn’t even eaten anything.
"Cassie. Are you even here?" He snapped his fingers and I blinked back to attention.
"Sorry, sir, I didn’t catch that."
He gave me a look but let it go, like he didn’t have the energy for it today.
"Why didn’t you tell me I’d have a visitor this morning?"
"Sir, I had no idea. He never went through me, he just walked straight in."
"He should have checked if I was even available. Make sure it doesn’t happen again."
"It won’t, sir."
"Cancel the committee meeting. I’m not in the mood anymore." He waved me off without another word.
By the time I got off work, Kate was already outside waiting to take me to the club for the security footage.
An hour later, we stood in front of the club. My stomach turned just looking at the entrance — flashbacks from that night creeping back in.
"Kate, I don’t think I can go back in there." My voice shook.
"You’re safe, Cassie. I’m right here. Those men deserve to be caught, and we’re going to make sure they are."
I took a deep breath and followed her in, staying close.
"Good evening, sir." Kate addressed the manager directly. "We need to see the footage from the night of my birthday party. My friend was nearly raped, and we need to find out who did this."
"I’m so sorry, ma’am." He turned to me, genuine concern on his face. "This is terrible. We’ll do everything we can to help find these men — this doesn’t just hurt you, it puts our business at risk too."
He led us into the security office, and we combed through footage from that night. Nothing. No sign of it. Nothing at all.
"Are you sure you were assaulted, ma’am?"
I stared at him, furious. "Are you seriously implying something right now?"
"No, no — I just mean, we’ve gone through the whole night’s footage, and there’s no one matching your description, no sign of any struggle on the dance floor."
Fuck.
"I went into the bathroom around 10:24pm. Check ten minutes before that."
He scrolled back — and then his face changed.
"There’s a gap. An hour missing, right before 10:24. I think it was deleted. This footage has been tampered with."
My eyes went straight to Kate. "It was planned. This was intentional." I broke down.
She pulled me into a hug, rubbing my back, trying to steady me.
It was all a setup.
"Whoever did this," the manager said quietly, "knew this place well. Probably someone who works here, or has access — you don’t just delete footage like that without knowing the system."
"Who would do something like that to me?"