In all the years Cassian had known Nico Graves, he had never seen him this pissed off. Which was saying something since Nico was a storm of bad moods, dramatics, and inappropriate grins on the best of days.
Normally, Cassian ignored it. He had more important things to do than babysit his business partner's theatrics. But Nico had chosen his private study to sulk in, pacing a hole into his floor, flooding the air with sharp Alpha pheromones.
Cassian pinched the bridge of his nose, dragged a hand down his face and muttered, "What."
Nico whipped around with a sneer. "What 'what'?"
"You're brooding. Rather loudly." Cassian's voice was flat steel. "If you want to sulk, pick any of your nightclubs."
"Not sulking," Nico said, though his grin was all teeth and no humor. He rubbed his palms together, eyes flashing. "Plotting."
Cassian arched a brow. "Plotting what?"
"Larsen." Nico's grin sharpened, feral. "I say we get rid of him. Permanently."
Cassian stilled, his knuckles turning white. Larsen again. The bastard had already crossed a line at noon, sending his men into Cassian's city, gunfire erupting in broad daylight. Cassian could still hear the reports; people scattering, his name being whispered as though he'd lost control of his territory. Unacceptable.
"You call that plotting?" Cassian said, cool.
"Please," Nico waved a hand. "I had him in my sights. Literally. But then one of his dogs interrupted me while I was… occupied." He licked his teeth, lazy and shameless. "Cute little omega, stubborn as hell. I almost had him eating out of my hand."
Cassian's jaw ticked, annoyance flaring again.
Nico didn't notice. He leaned back against the desk. "And then boom, Larsen's man crashes the moment. Gunfire on your turf. Honestly? I take it as a personal insult."
Cassian folded his hands behind his back, expression unreadable. Larsen knew better than to provoke him. The families worked by codes and agreement but to think the bastard would actually attack on his turf, especially after he warned him off his docks... He wanted Larsen gone. The more he thought about it, the more the idea of a permanent solution felt less like a suggestion and more like inevitability.
Cassian arched a brow. "Invite him to one of yours."
"You can't be seriously suggesting that? Having him in one of my babies?"
Cassian's silence stretched. He raised a brow, almost reconsidering it. Plotting with Nico on Nico's turf usually ended with either broken furniture, someone direly injured or dead, or Nico drunk on his own theatrics. But…
The nightclub was perfect. Larsen would come under the guise of forming a truce and Cassian would get rid of him.
"You want to lure him into our space?" Nico said, voice measured. He seemed to realize what Cassian was thinking, and nodded, "Fine. I will get the men ready."
Cassian poured himself a drink. The whiskey burned warm, steadying him against the weight of thoughts circling in his head. The ice clinked in his glass. Nico was still talking, something about which suit he'd wear to the "funeral party," when his phone buzzed across the desk.
He picked it up, glanced at the screen then smirked at Cassian. The glee in his eyes had Cassian eyeing him warily.
"Well, well. Look who it is." Nico angled the phone so Cassian could see the name flashing across the screen. Lucien.
Cassian's jaw went tight. He looked away, not interested in knowing why he was calling Nico. Nico hit accept, putting the call on speaker.
"Lucien, darling," Nico drawled. "What a surprise."
A faint pause on the other end, then a voice deep and smooth as silk. "Is Cassian with you?"
Nico's grin widened. He tossed Cassian a wicked look. "Depends. Are you calling for business? Or just to remind me your life is still boring?"
"I tried reaching out to Cassian like you said, but it seems my contact has been blocked," the man groused.
"Oh, did he?" Nico shook his head at Cassian with a tsk. "I can set you up for a physical meeting."
"Nico," Cassian snapped.
But Nico only waved a lazy hand, still listening. "Mm. How about a coffee shop? Cute. Cass, let's play reconciliation and business over lattes. Isn't that precious?"
Cassian's grip on his glass turned lethal. "No," Cassian said flatly.
"Tell him yourself." Nico shoved the phone into his hand.
Cassian stared at it for a long beat, then put it to his ear. "Lucien."
A sharp inhale. "Cassian. Meet me. In an hour. Bean & Bark."
Click. The line went dead.
Nico whistled low and cackled. "Oh, this will be fun."
Cassian wanted to break something. Preferably, Nico's ribs.
Once they got to the café, Cassian wondered why Lucien chose the location he often frequented. Had he been watching him? He pushed through the door with Nico at his side, the bell jingling overhead. The café was crowded like usual, buzzing with chatter, but he spotted Lucien instantly.
The man wore a simple button up and trousers, with the sleeves rolled up. Lucien sat at a corner table, smooth, long fingers curled on the cup he sipped from. Cassian's stomach turned. He remembered how those hands felt on him, stirred pleasure within him. Those same hands he found on another, a fucking beta at that.
He clenched his jaw, started forward—
"Wait."
Nico's hand on his arm stalled him. Cassian followed his line of sight, frowning.
Behind the counter, wearing an apron and glaring at a coffee machine like it had personally ruined his life, was the weird omega. What was his name again?
Nico's lips curled into a grin. "Well, well. Today's my lucky day."
Cassian felt his stomach tighten. Elias glanced up, caught his eye for half a second, then promptly pretended Cassian didn't exist, turning his attention back to the coffee machine with a muttered curse.
"Focus," Cassian muttered, shaking Nico's hand off.
"Oh, I am focused." Nico's grin was wolfish. "Just not on your ex."
Cassian ignored him and stalked toward Lucien. Chairs scraped as customers shifted uneasily, sensing the shift in atmosphere. Lucien rose gracefully, that same infuriating calm in his eyes.
"Cassian," Lucien greeted softly.
Cassian's fists curled. All he wanted in that moment was to shatter that calm, to drag Lucien out of his silk-slick facade and remind him what real rage felt like.
"Lucien, you've been causing quite the racket wanting to see me. I do recall it being beneath you to beg," he growled, baring his teeth.
Lucien's grip tightened on his cup, a low growl rising. "You did well to always remind me of my place, Cassian. Everything ran on your time and went exactly the way you wanted it. Would you like me on my knees, Don Moretti? Or does we talk shop as we should?"