Vivienne took control of the conversation before it devolved further.
"Setting aside Cassidy's... complicated feelings... let's assess Isaiah Angelo objectively."
"I don't have COMPLICATED FEELINGS."
"Objectively." Vivienne ignored her. "Age: eighteen. Our peer. That could create dynamics, positive or negative. Academic standing: full scholarship at Hartwell. That indicates intelligence and work ethic. Employment: bartender at an upscale establishment, plus previous service industry experience. He knows how to handle difficult customers."
"We're not CUSTOMERS."
"We're worse than customers."
Cassidy opened her mouth. Closed it. Couldn't actually argue that point.
"References: Dr. Reyes." Vivienne's tone shifted. "That's notable. Dr. Reyes doesn't recommend people lightly. If she put his name forward, she believes he can handle us."
"Or she believes he's expendable."
"Dr. Reyes isn't cruel. She's protective of her students." Vivienne set down the profile. "The fact that she recommended him despite knowing our reputation says something."
"It says she's delusional."
"It says she believes in him."
The words hung in the air.
Harlow picked up the profile again. Studied the photo. "He looks tired."
"What?"
"In the photo. His eyes. He looks really tired." She traced a finger over the image. "Like he doesn't sleep enough. Or like he's carrying something heavy."
"That's dramatic."
"I'm serious!" Harlow looked at her sisters. "We should interview him. At least talk to him. He's in our CLASSES. We could just... ask."
"Ask what?" Cassidy's voice was sharp. "Hey, scholarship boy, want to be our servant? Want to fetch our coffee and organize our schedules and be at our beck and call for whatever outrageous compensation Mother is offering?"
"Something like that. But nicer."
"There IS no nice way to ask someone to be your employee."
"There's always a nice way! You just have to find it!"
Sabrina, who had been silent for several minutes, spoke up.
"He'll say yes."
Everyone turned to look at her.
"How do you know?" Vivienne asked.
"I've watched him. At school. He works constantly. Studies on the train. Looks at his phone with concern when he thinks no one's watching. He needs money." She paused. "Badly."
"So?"
"So he'll take any opportunity that pays well. Even if that opportunity is us."
"That's manipulative." Harlow frowned.
"That's reality." Sabrina returned to her book. "We're not good people. Our family isn't a good family. Anyone who works for us knows what they're signing up for. If he's smart enough to survive Hartwell on scholarship, he's smart enough to understand the risks."
"And if he says no?"
"He won't."
"But if he DOES?"
Sabrina was quiet for a moment. "Then he's more interesting than I thought."
Cassidy stared at the ceiling.
The conversation had moved on. Her sisters were discussing interview formats, compensation packages, logistical details. The boring administrative stuff that Vivienne loved and everyone else tolerated.
But Cassidy's mind was elsewhere.
Isaiah Angelo.
Scholarship boy.
The one who didn't flinch.
She thought about his face. That infuriating calm. The way he'd looked at her like she was a minor inconvenience rather than a force of nature.
"Feel better now?"
Nobody talked to her like that. Nobody questioned her authority. Nobody implied that her anger was performative, that her threats were theater.
Except him.
If he becomes our assistant...
He'd be around all the time.
In our space. In our lives.
Following orders.
Her imagination tried to wander again. She stomped on it viciously.
No. Stop. Bad brain.
This isn't about... whatever that was.
This is about winning.
If he's our assistant, I can prove he's not as unbreakable as he pretends. I can find his weakness. I can make him crack.
And then I'll finally know what's hiding behind that stupid calm face.
"Fine."
Her voice cut through the conversation. Her sisters looked at her.
"Fine what?" Vivienne asked.
"Interview him. The scholarship boy." Cassidy forced her expression into something resembling indifference. "He's probably the least terrible option. At least he won't be a plant for Mother."
"That's... surprisingly reasonable."
"I'm a reasonable person."
"You're really not."
"Shut up, Vivienne."
But Cassidy was smiling.
It wasn't a nice smile.
It was the smile of a predator who had just spotted prey.
Isaiah Angelo.
Let's see how long you last.
Harlow clapped her hands together. "So we're agreed? We interview Isaiah?"
"We should interview all the candidates." Vivienne gathered the profiles. "That's the proper protocol."
"But we already eliminated four of them."
"Preliminary elimination. We should still do due diligence."
"That sounds like a lot of work for the same outcome."
"It's called professionalism."
"It's called BORING."
"Harlow."
Sabrina closed her book. The sound was soft, but it drew attention.
"Interview Angelo. Skip the others."
"But—"
"The others are irrelevant. We've already decided." Sabrina stood, tucking her book under her arm. "Don't waste time pretending otherwise. It's inefficient."
"Since when do you care about efficiency?"
"Since I want to finish my book in peace." She headed for the door. Paused. "Oh, and Cassidy?"
"What?"
"Whatever you're planning... be careful."
"I'm not planning anything."
"Mm."
Sabrina left.
The remaining sisters sat in silence for a moment.
"What did she mean by that?" Harlow looked confused.
"Nothing." Cassidy stood, stretching. "She's just being cryptic. It's her thing."
"But she seemed serious."
"Sabrina always seems serious. It's part of the mystique."
Vivienne was watching Cassidy with an expression that suggested she was thinking things. Uncomfortable things. Things that Cassidy did not want examined.
"Whatever you're planning, Cassidy, remember that this is a business arrangement."
"I'm not planning ANYTHING."
"You're planning something. You always are."
"That's paranoid."
"Is it?"
Cassidy grabbed her blazer from the floor. Slung it over her shoulder.
"I'm going to my room. Let me know when the interview is scheduled."
"You want to be involved in the interview?"
"Of course. Someone has to make sure he can handle pressure." She smiled again. That predator smile. "And who better to apply pressure than me?"