Page 112 of A Sinful Gravity

"What's so hard about it?" I forced a light smile, though the churning in my stomach was climbing up my throat. "Buy popcorn. Keep her safe. Don't let her get crushed in the crowd. That's it."

Laila was already at Cassian's side, pulling his hand, looking up. "Cassian, you can really come with me?"

Cassian crouched down, looking at her.

His eyes were a little red, but he held it in. He reached out, gently touched Laila's hair, movement soft like touching something precious.

"I can." His voice shook slightly. "I'll go with you."

Laila shrieked and threw herself into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck, buried her face in his shoulder, shaking with happiness.

That whole evening, Cassian acted more excited than signing a billion-dollar deal.

He even started researching concert guides on his laptop in the living room—which route avoided traffic, which entrance was fastest. He seriously wrote down lyrics to Taylor's hit songs, claiming he "can't embarrass himself at the venue."

I sat in the armchair nearby, watching him look ridiculous in his over-excitement, but my insides were a mess.

This was his first time taking Laila out alone.

No me as buffer. No Chloe to help and cover. Just the two of them.

I didn't know if this would be some kind of turning point.

What if something went wrong? What if Laila got lost in the crowd? What if Cassian noticed habits Laila shared with him and got suspicious?

But seeing Laila so excited, I couldn't take it back.

"Fuck..." I muttered, palms clammy.

I didn't know if I was pushing myself toward a cliff edge.

But when Cassian turned around and flashed me that brilliant, pure smile—

I suddenly thought maybe I should give that asshole a chance to prove himself.

I was certain Laila would have a great time.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Cassian

I barely slept.

Five-forty a.m., before the sun fully rose, I was up.

Washington's sunlight was different now—softer, gentler than the harsh glare of recent days.

I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror for a long time. Clean-shaven. Hair combed. Face clear.

I leaned in, checking my eyes—bloodshot, yeah, but I looked alert enough.

In the closet, I skipped right past the charcoal and navy hand-tailored suits. Instead, I pulled out a white hoodie and black cargo pants.

The man in the mirror looked less like a King family patriarch and more like some regular dad heading out for a day trip.

I set the clothes aside and headed out.

The house was dead quiet. Luna's door was closed—her rehearsal wasn't until tonight, so she'd still be sleeping. Laila too. She'd been wired last night, running on pure excitement until she finally crashed.