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CASSANDRA'S POV

I hear the elevator bell ding, indicating that I had made it to the fifty-sixth floor, causing my eyes to shoot open. I hate elevators. The small space combined with the number of people that always tried to cram inside. Luckily for me, I was going to the top floor and this was a private elevator, so no people and no cramming.

Taking a deep breath, I step out once the doors part open, walking out of the elevator and making my way down the wide hallway. The floor to ceiling windows that made up the walls have the most incredible view of the city that I've always called home, New York City, and more specifically, the borough of Manhattan. From tall buildings to the surrounding waters, the view engulfs me as I make my way down the hall, unable to keep myself from admiring the immaculate views.

It is dead silent apart from the sound of my heels clicking against the marbled floor. I make my way over to the large conference room, pushing the door open using the handle, and stepping inside. I am greeted by two angry men, both of whom snap their heads to look at me as soon as I open the door.

"Cassandra, fucking finally. Did you bring it?" my brother asks, straightening from where he is leaning against the large conference table, holding his hand out to me before turning away and looking at my father as if to resume his conversation without paying me any additional attention. How very typical of him.

I sigh softly as I reach into my bag, grabbing the manila folder that I had picked up from his apartment and stuffing it into his hand, trying not to show how irritated I am.

"I can't believe you made me come all this way for this. You could've asked any one of your assistants, Zac," I kindly remind him, earning a stern look from my father, the one and only Blake Rhodes. He's the CEO of Rhodes Enterprises and as I like to call him, a jackass.

Don't get me wrong. I am completely okay with doing them favors. But with the combined lack of interest and appreciation from either of them? These little favors that I seem to be doing regularly are getting to be a bit much, even for myself, and I'm the most patient person ever.

"Confidentiality," Zachary shrugs as he snatches the file from my hand without even glancing my way again, and tosses the file down on the table before opening it, back in conversation with my father.

I wait a moment before realizing that neither of them care about my presence any longer. With a sigh, I walk over to the other side of the enormous table, taking a seat in one of the chairs. As soon as I sit down, placing my bag on the table top, both of them look at me again, as if I was committing a crime.

"What?" I question, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion. But, I already know the answer to the question. They probably don't want me here. 'A pretty girl like you shouldn't be here,' is what my father would say, which is ridiculous, considering that he was the one who had pushed me so hard to go to university and study as if I was the one who was going to take over this company, when in reality, it's going to be Zac.

Things weren't always this way. I have always been the one who is better at this stuff, and everyone has always known that. Zac would consistently slack off throughout college, and even for a few years after that. From parties to hooking up with girls, and disappearing for a few weeks at a time. It was the norm, until his twenty-sixth birthday and things somehow took a turn overnight.

As soon as Zac said he was ready to do this, my father completely forgot that I had spent years becoming the ideal candidate for the role of CEO and quickly turned to Zac. I had been groomed to fill the seat for years, and all of that work was now in the gutter. Instead, my father had other plans for me.

"Don't you have to get ready for the charity gala? Might I remind you, this is an extremely important event for you?" my father raises his eyebrow at me, as if he is posing a question when what he truly means is 'go home, get ready, and don't fuck this up.'

I bite down on my lip to keep myself from saying something that I knew would only come back to bite me in the ass. My eyes flicker from my father to Zac, who quickly looks away from me and back at the papers in front of him. Things have clearly changed between us. It's so so obvious that Zac has gone from being the one defending me to the one always agreeing with our father.

In the last six months, since he decided that he wanted what I had worked so hard for, our relationship had changed for the worse. He was once one of my best friends, yet here we are, barely speaking of half of the things that we used to.

"Right, how could I forget?" I let out a forced smile, shaking my head as if I was the delirious one. Getting up from the chair, I grab my bag and quickly walk out of there, trying to hold back the fury and sadness that quickly fills my heart, but I refuse to make a scene of this.

"Dad, seriously? We talked about this. You can't talk to her like that," I faintly hear Zac mutter to my father right before the door closes shut. I feel my hand tightening around the strap of my shoulder bag, faintly smiling to myself as I'm glad to hear that Zac can still have my back at times, but even then, I know that things aren't the same.

How could they ever be? Our lives aren't what they were before, and there is no way of changing that.