Chapter 75: Who do you think you’re talking to?

Chapter 75: Who do you think you’re talking to? Cass was pissed. Whether they knew it or not, stablebitch had ruined another thing he was looking forward to. He couldn’t even sit down at his desk and enjoy his fucking BL because he was so mad about everything he had just discovered. He had wanted to calm down, get his head on his shoulders, you know, something Lord Blackburn would have done. Instead, he was pacing the carpet in front of his desk, running his hands through his hair as he lost his damn mind. He was so fucking pissed. His grandfather had gone too fucking far, and this could not continue any longer. He knew he planned to take this one step at a time, but after finding that damn secret passage into his fucking office? Cass was at his fucking wits end. He was sure that the others probably didn’t have something like this, or if they did, they probably didn’t know about it either. He knew Draken would have thrown a damn fit if something like that was used in his den. He would have torn the mansion apart if he found something like that. The others? They were like him. They wouldn’t have noticed. Thank fuck he had Byron, because otherwise he wouldn’t have known. He was going to have to make sure he kept Byron happy. Maybe find him some cute Sam lookalikes or something. Especially if Sam rejected him. Fuck. He needed to calm down. He couldn’t be this worked up when they arrived. He needed to have his head on. Just...grab a novel or something. Or, at the very least, look over the files that you need to prove they’re a lying, useless ass. Settling on that, Cass marched over to the piles of files that remained in the office. Cass had gone through a lot of files in the almost month he had been here. Most had been organised by hand, and Sam had had the aide come pick them up from the entryway of his chambers to bring back to Lord Blackburn’s grandfather. Some, however, he had kept for himself. These were some of them. If someone just looked at them casually, they wouldn’t notice why he had kept them. They were files full of expenses, every day tallies, records of employment. Things that others wouldn’t even consider an issue. Just basic things. Cass, however, because he had limited knowledge of this world, had done a rather thorough job researching averages for expenses, the cost of living, everything related to money. He’d been poor his whole life, he wasn’t about to change his patterns just because he had come into the body of a man who held the Kingdom’s coin purse in his hand. That was how he found out that many of these were doctored. People were stealing from him, for Lord Blackburn, and also, the Duke Blackburn as well. Cass had purposefully left the files mixed up so that Lord Blackburn’s personal expenses and the Duke’s expenses couldn’t be distinguished. He had been cautious, since that was something he had noticed Lord Blackburn had done as well, and he was upset to find out that he was justified for continuing the trend. It would not do well for him if Lord Blackburn’s grandfather found out about his personal expenses. Even if it was obvious that he had his own, it would not do him good if he could actually trace them. That was a big thing for Lord Blackburn, even if it wasn’t spoken out into the universe. It was something he had also known about through the story as well. He had only made an offhand comment about it when he had been hanging out with Lady Fiona alone, but because of Cass’ memory, he could recall it. Sighing, Cass rifled through until he found what he had been looking for. They were near the top because Cass had been looking at them before his trip this morning. He had been wondering why he own so many damn carriages, and where the fuck they were. It was about time he finally popped whatever world this damn idiot was living in. Calmed down because he had ranted enough in his head, Cass was able to compose himself and take a seat in his chair. He was not able to read any BL, and honestly, it would be a disgrace to the BL to taint it with the energy in the office. He’d just go to bed after dealing with this idiot, get Sam to bring him some food and tea in there, and have a semi enjoyable night in there, away from the riff raff. Not many would storm into his bedroom. Even in this mansion. Cass was shuffling a few of the papers around, organising them when Cass heard the knock on the door. They were here. Sir Forsythe had returned with the damn fool, and Sam was letting him know. Cass felt a grin cross his face before he quickly wiped it away. This was going to be fun. ~ The clock ticked on, each minute filling him with anticipation. When he finally called to let them in, 15 minutes had passed and Cass had kind of wanted to wait even longer, but it wasn’t nice to Sam, Byron, or Sir Forsythe. The other guy could go kick rocks for all he cared. "You may enter." Cass called, doing his best to look busy, uninterested, and every bit of an asshole he intended to be. Sam seemed a bit surprised at the change, but didn’t say anything. Byron and Sir Forsythe didn’t react at all, while the man they had in between them was fucking steaming. He was shorter than the other three, including Sam, with a receding hairline, a rounded belly that Cass hadn’t seen a lot of in this time so far, especially because of the danger of the demons, and his clothes looked far too fancy for someone who should have been living on a good, but not great salary for this time. Cass didn’t even need to think hard about where this money had gone, the fucking idiot was wearing it. That, and the expensive looking necklace he was wearing, along with a few rings on his fingers told Cass a lot of what he needed to know. The man also was looking at him with a scowl on his face, his beady eyes narrowed, his paltry mustache making him look like he was about to launch into a tirade about why girls shouldn’t wear short skirts because it made them look like whores. Cass had seen his type before. He hadn’t liked them in his time, he couldn’t imagine him liking them in this time either. When they came to a stop in front of his desk and Byron and Sam moved away to stand behind Cass against the bookcases, Sir Forsythe pushed the man forward. "Greet him properly. He is your lord." He growled, behaving every inch of the head guard for a villain that he was. Cass was almost proud of him. The stablebitch stumbled, casting a glare at Sir Forsythe like he had the ability to get rid of him and Cass stared at him with disinterest. He bowed sloppily, snorting and gasping as he stood straight. He scratched his stomach and Cass could hear Sam making a noise of disgust behind him, but he was sure that the man couldn’t hear him. "Thank you for bringing them, Sir Forsythe." Cass said, putting down his pen for a moment as he looked over the man before him. Sir Forsythe stayed nearby, which was probably a good idea. The man might run. "Well? Are you going to offer me a drink?" The man demanded and Cass raised an eyebrow. Sam was mumbling some rather unkind things under his breath behind him that made Cass have to regain his composure. "Do I owe you one?" Cass asked carefully and the man snorted, rolling his eyes. "Everyone knows that it’s just polite." Cass didn’t even like the sound of his voice. Who were his parents for him to come out sounding so damn whiney? "Oh? Everyone knows, hmm?" Cass started, surprised that the man was making it so easy for him. "Are you implying that I, a Lord who has been raised since childhood to be the perfect noble, am lacking in manners? Think carefully before you answer." Cass warned but the idiot didn’t. "Well, I would never say that, my lord," Cass winced internally at the way he said it. It was dripping with sarcasm, and Cass noticed how Sir Forsythe tensed. "I was just saying that it took me soo long to get here that I am just simply parched." His lips turned up slightly, as if his sniveling would get him anything. "Then swallow your saliva. I am sure that will dampen your throat." Cass told him, turning away from him to pretend to grab work. Sam jumped in immediately, offering Cass a few papers from a stack nearby. The idiot was snorting in indignity, clearly upset that he was being denied something. "T-That’s rude!" He yelled, and Byron winced. He had to be sensitive to noise now, the same way that Draken was. Cass could recall a time in the book where the man went nearly insane when he was locked up with a songbird that wouldn’t shut up. Cass would need to remember that. "I know." Cass replied, and the man sputtered more. "Almost as rude as lying to your Lord about the state of his carriages just to spite him." Cass said, staring at him, and watched as the man paled. "Or, I could be ruder, and have you locked up, your arms and legs chopped off, and then have you castrated for the several crimes you have committed against me, including speaking to a noble with open disrespect." Cass stared at the man as he began to shake. Sir Forsythe’s eyes widened, his nostrils flaring as the man before Cass started to make excuses. "I-I would never do something so nefarious! I have committed no crimes! I have no reason to lie to you, my Lord! You take such good care of me, and I-" "-If I take such good care of you," Cass interrupted, folding his hands carefully on his desk before he met the gaze of the man before him. "Then why are you accepting bribes, hmm? And why are you charging me for carriages I don’t even own?" Cass demanded and the man collapsed to the ground. He pressed his forehead against the floor and began to ramble. "I-I have no idea what you are speaking about, my Lord! If it is about today, I am so terribly sorry! I must not have recorded it properly, a-and the aide left so early in the morning I assumed that they would be back in time!" "Which one is it? The fact that you forgot, or the fact that you thought they would be back in time for my excursion into town?" Cass was sure that he heard the man begin to sob. He had no fucking clue who he was fucking with. "On that topic, why is it that I apparently pay you to maintain 17 damn carriages but all of them save one are in disrepair?" Cass stood up, the sound of the chair screeching across the hardwood loud, filling the quiet space. Cass did it intentionally. He had pushed back as hard as he could so that the normally silent chair sounded like nails on a chalkboard to this man. Cass got to his feet, fixing his jacket as he stood before he moved out from behind his desk. The man on his knees shook as Cass came to stand before him. Cass stared at the man who wasn’t even worth his time, but who he had to make an example of for his sanity’s sake. "Do you even know who you are speaking to? Hmm? Did you think I, of all people, would let this go on forever?" Cass asked before he bent down, speaking directly to the man. He reached out, touching a few strands of hair on the back of neck with enough of his nails to make the man shake harder. "Was it fun? Thinking that you had pocketed some extra money from the Blackburn family? Thinking you were so cool, so clever, and that your Lord was so dumb? Did you think that I would never catch on?" Cass whispered, his voice sweet. "Well, you were very, very wrong. I knew the whole time what you were doing." Cass grabbed onto his hair, yanking his head back and the man screamed. Cass didn’t like to cause pain like this, but considered it a small cost since he nearly died today. "Sadly for you, I don’t have patience anymore for a man who won’t follow even the simplest of orders." The smell of urine filled the air and Cass turned his nose up. Ew. "My Lord, please, let me dirty my hands." Sir Forsythe offered and Cass shook his head. "No, Sir Forsythe. I need to set an example."