Chapter 66 Claiming What Is Mine

I have never been able to control my temper; it is just one of those things that Christian Caine cannot do. Now, I find myself furious and pissed off at the woman that I love. Yet, I am not only pissed off at her but at her fucking father that did not think about anything but himself. So the great Foster Caine and Joseph Cummings are gone; who is left to clean up this mess? Well, it all falls down on me.
As I have said, I cannot just go and kill a man because he is the one that is supposed to marry my woman. But, I am not going to sit back and wait for Roman Sloane to come and collect. I will, and at this very moment, I am on my way to try and convince the very man to stay away from my future wife.
Am I being reckless? Yes, of course, there is no reasoning with me when I find myself when I am boiling over from anger. I know that it would have been a fairly good idea to have brought Mason with me, but I was too one-tracked-minded to make a sensible decision. And right now, I am not going to back off and go hide in my corner.
Christian Caine does not hide, and he does not share either.
So it is with great confidence but a nagging voice in the back of my head that I find myself driving to Sloane s Mansion. The man has a rather impressive group of bodyguards and security forces on his ground; I am making a very bold and risky move here.
I can simply not lose Cassandra.
But, I can easily lose my life for doing what I am set to do. As I look at myself in the rearview mirror, I can see eyes that hold a slight hint of fear. Christian Caine does not feel fear; I will claim what is mine today. So, I flip my sunglasses down and hide the eyes that wish to deceive me. The only one that shall feel deception will be Roman Sloane.
And it is in his very driveway that I am now pulling up my car. I can see from ahead and the farside west, there are already several of his crew coming towards me. I have officially been seen; it is yet to establish if they know who I am.
That is very soon confirmed as I watch him exit through the front door. The man must be truly stupid just to walk out like that in the open; it will take me only but five seconds to take him out and have my ass out that gate again. Now, that does sound like a plan, but I shall rather settle this like the gentleman that we both claim we are.
It is with very careful but still somewhat hesitant steps that I bring the car to a stop right in front of his door. I give myself a quick once-over glance in the rearview mirror again and exit the car. It is within only but a second, and I have at least seven men surrounding me with rather intimidating guns. Well, fuck them, my gun is bigger.
So as I push through the crowd of men, I finally get in view of Roman, and let me tell you; the man is not happy to see me.
"What is it that I can help you with, Caine? You are very brave to show your face on my territory."
"Roman, we both know this was mine first until that woman that you call your mother snaked it away from my father."
I watch as he furrows his brows and adjusts his pants where I am assuming he is hiding his gun, "Did you come here to insult my mother?"
"No, I came here to talk to you man-to-man about your intentions with my fiancé."
He bursts out in a fit of uncontrollable laughter that only but winds me up again, yet, I let it go and wait for him to get whatever he seems to find so amusing of his chest.
Then he continues, "Yes, about that. It will be very kind of? you if you hand her over now."
Something in me snaps, and I am on the edge of falling into that abyss of anger, but I compose myself and continue to answer, "She is not a piece of property that you can hand over."
"Well, then, would you kindly hand my wife over."
I only take but a deep breath and count from three…two… one, "Can we discuss this like civilized men in your home. I do not wish to stand and have an argument with you on your doorstep."
He reluctantly shows for me to enter, taking me through one rather big and lavish lounge furnished in all but white. Well, that is truly the dullest thing I have ever seen and rather sore on the eye. Yet, the bar where we find our final destination does get more than one glance from me. The man does have one impressive collection of whiskey.
And so he offers, and I will humbly accept in the hope that he will not be poisoning me today. Once we both have a chilled glass in hand, we take a seat opposite from each other.
"So," he begins. "Let me get this straight. You have a nerve showing your face here, and you wish to discuss an arrangement that was made regarding your fiancé."
"Well, if you have to put it so pleasantly. Yes. I am here to tell you that you cannot have Cassandra."
I watch as there is a flare-up of what I can only assume is irritation and maybe a bit of anger on his face. "You are telling me?"
"Yes, Sloane, that is what I said. Cassandra and I are set to get married, and I wish for you to consider your arrangement as null and void."
Now, if I thought that talking to him like a gentleman is going to get me anywhere, I am sadly mistaken, for he immediately takes a hostile stance. He always used to be a hothead as a teenager, and he has not yet outgrown to urge to throw a fit. I guess that we have come to that point where things are now going to become ugly.
"Caine, you can screw yourself. What belonged to Cummings is mine now."
"Well, Sloane, you can go fuck yourself. You need to marry Cassandra to get it, and that is not going to happen."
He smirks at me as he tosses his shot of whiskey to the back of his throat, "That is not going to happen."
"I am afraid that it is. You will not come near Cassandra."
"I truly think that you do not have a choice, Christian. You know how it works; you cannot walk in here and expect to change the way things work. Do you think that because you started a little war that you can come in here and demand things from me?"
"I don t think Roman. I know." I take a sip of the chilled whiskey and place my glass on the table. "I am telling you that you will stay away from Cassandra."
"And if I don t?"
"Then you will see what happens."
He stands up to fetch the bottle of whiskey and pour us both another shot; while he is away from the table, I slip my hands into the back of my pants and grip firmly onto my gun. Just before he makes his way back, I slide it and place it under my jacket that is lying next to me on the table.
As he sits down, I can see that his face has grown with more anger than it held before. Well, I guess he cannot control his either, and mine is just about to snap. But I am not here to cause a problem, and most of all not even start one, though as he continues.
"This is how it is going to work, Caine. You are going to hand the bitch over before the end of the week, or I will come to fetch her."
And that is me; all restraint that I was holding together rips loose by the seems, "You. Do. Not. Call. My. Wife. A. Bitch."
And in an instant, I have slipped my hand underneath my jacket and am holding a Ruger firmly pointed at Roman Sloane s face. Yes, perhaps I lied. I came here with the full intention to show him that I mean what I am saying. And it gives me great satisfaction to see the terror that has now crept into his eyes. But it is only short-lived, for next, I have three of his bodyguards coming towards the table.
"If I were you," I turn to face them one by one, "You would not come any closer. I will blow his fucking brains on this table before you even blink an inch of a second."
Then after what seems a good five minutes, Roman finds his voice to speak again, "You are playing a dangerous game, Caine."
"Nobody touches my woman. Least of all you. Now," I lift my gun but an inch higher to line it perfectly with his temple, "You will leave Cassandra alone."
"You," in what seems to be a very slow five seconds, Roman reaches for his own piece and aims it straight at my forehead, hoping to catch me fumble, yet he does not know that I am far fucking better than he is. As he sees that I am not moving, he starts to speak again, "You have made a big mistake coming here."
"No," I shake my head at him and raise my voice. "You have made a mistake not taking what I have asked you into consideration."
I keep eyes level and stare him down, waiting for him to falter, though he holds his gun firmly, so I only but take mine and move it to him even closer. It seems that only one of us will see the end of the day. I have taken that step and walked straight over that line without even blinking. I have said this before, and I will continue to repeat it. I will not lose Cassandra.
And perhaps I should repeat it to this man that seems to be as thick as a fucking doornail, "I am not asking you again, Sloane. I need for you to leave Cassandra alone."
Then there is a shatter as the glass tumbles to the floor. I watch as Roman rise from his seat, and from behind him, his bodyguards come closer. I am completely outnumbered. But it does not stop me from rising and take a firm stance.
"You are not leaving alive here. You just made your biggest mistake."