CHAPTER 115

Cassius had never been a man to beg anyone who wasn’t Lucifer. Not for power. Not for mercy. Not for anything.

Yet here he was, standing at the gates of Giovanni Ivanovo’s mansion, knowing damn well he was about to do exactly that.

The guards barely spared him a glance before stepping aside, to let him in. No questions. No hesitation.That alone told him Giovanni was expecting him.

Cassius adjusted his coat, keeping his expression blank as he was led through the mansion’s dimly lit halls. The air smelled like expensive cologne, aged whiskey, and blood.

Not fresh. But there. Always there.

At the end of the corridor,...