Page 20 of Marked By Obsession

“It’s fine,” I assured her. “Just a precaution. Where am I heading?”

“The driver didn’t say. Just that he was here for you on Mr. Ashcroft’s instructions.”

Of course. Cain was controlling every aspect of this interaction, including keeping me in the dark about our destination.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

With that, I headed to the lobby and when I reached it, I immediately spotted who would be taking me to Cain. The driver was tall, dressed in all black including his suit, and wore the blank expression of someone paid to avoid small talk and turn away from anything that wasn’t his business. He nodded once as I approached. He walked with me out of the building and we were silent until we reached the black SUV.

“Ms. Prescott,” he said, opening the rear door. “Mr. Ashcroft is expecting you.”

I got into the vehicle and immediately noted how dark the tinted windows were, limiting the amount of morning light. I’d been half-expecting Cain to be there but was relieved I was alone in the back seat. Somehow it was also unnerving.

“Where are we going?” I asked as the driver slid into the front seat.

“Mr. Ashcroft has arranged a meeting at The Jefferson,” he replied without turning around.

The Jefferson. One of D.C.’s most exclusive hotels. Of course Cain would choose somewhere like that—neutral territory that still screamed power and money. I settled back against the leather seat because I guess I was along for the ride.

The drive through D.C. morning traffic was relatively quick. I used the time to gather myself, mentally rehearsing responses to whatever Cain might throw at me. When we pulled up to the hotel’s entrance, the driver came around to open my door. I stepped out, smoothing my white suit, and only stopped for a second when the driver spoke to me once more.

“Tell the front desk who you are and that you’re going to one of the presidential suites. Mr. Ashcroft is waiting.”

Why wasn’t I surprised that it was a presidential suite versus a conference room or something more professional? The knot in my stomach tightened, but I nodded calmly and walked into the lobby. Once I got directions on where I needed to go, I got on the elevator and watched as I ascended up to the presidential suite. This was it. The moment I’d been dreading for the last twelve to eighteen hours.

When I reached the door, I paused for just a moment before knocking firmly. I was overthinking just knocking on the door, but at least I thought it sounded professional and confident. The door swung open almost immediately, and there stood Cain Ashcroft. He wasn’t wearing his suit jacket, leaving him in a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal tanned forearms. My eyes involuntarily tracked the movement of his hand as he gestured for me to follow him inside.

“Sutton,” he said. “Right on time.”

I stepped past him into a suite that I swear was larger than my entire condo. My eyes darted around, taking everything in because if I didn’t find something to preoccupy myself, I was going to stare at the man in front of me, giving away either that I was attracted to him or that he, on some level, intimidated me. Neither would help me in the situation I was in right now, so studying the suite was where I landed. As I was checking out the room, Cain spoke again, startling me out of my daydream.

“Coffee?” he asked, moving toward a silver service set up on a side table. “Black, no sugar or cream, if I recall correctly.”

I froze. I hadn’t told him how I took my coffee. How did he know that? The fact that he knew such a small detail about me was weird as fuck, but I did my best not to let it show. It was something I didn’t feel was safe to bring up right now, hell, maybe ever, but now my only objective was to get out of this hotel room alive.

“Yes,” I replied, keeping my voice even to not give anything I was thinking away. “Thank you.”

Cain handed me a cup and our fingers brushed each other’s briefly. I refused to acknowledge the contact, but it lingered on my skin longer than I would have liked. I felt myself starting to grow warm under my blouse and sweating was the last thing I needed, specifically as a result of just touching him.

“Please, sit,” he said, gesturing toward a seating area near the windows.

I chose an armchair rather than the couch because I needed to maintain as much distance as possible. I kept my purse on my lap too because it’d just become another piece of armor that I had at my disposal. Cain took the seat across from me and it was easy to see that he was very much at home with this setup while I was planning my escape.

“I appreciate you making time for this meeting,” he said, sipping his own coffee.

“Did I have a choice?” I asked before I could stop myself.

Cain smiled, and it transformed his face in a way that I wasn’t expecting. I hated that it made him more attractive. “There are always choices, Sutton. You made the right one.”

I set my coffee down. “What exactly is this meeting about, Mr. Ashcroft?”

“Cain,” he corrected again. “And it’s about your future with Prescott Vantage under Ashcroft Group’s ownership.”

“My future,” I repeated. “Which you’ve already decided?”

“Actually, no.” He leaned forward, his eyes locked on mine. “That’s why you’re here. To discuss possibilities.”

I crossed my legs, buying myself a moment to think. “What possibilities did you have in mind?”