Fifteen

Cassandra sat lost in thought at her desk, staring blankly at her computer screen displaying the last files on Cale Callaghan. Her hand propped up her chin as her mind raced in circles. Cale's death had hit hard, shattering all the plans and leads she had meticulously gathered.

Cassandra had intended to connect this case to Antonio Franches. She was convinced Cale held the answers regarding Antonio’s involvement in Michael Foster’s murder. But now, with Cale’s sudden and mysterious death, everything felt chaotic. The more she thought about it, the more frustrated she became. She opened an electronic file on her computer, browsing through Cale’s interrogation notes and the reports on illegal transactions she had uncovered.

There was no direct evidence pointing to Antonio, but Cassandra knew—there was something beneath the surface. Cale wouldn’t have just given up and committed suicide. In her head, she replayed everything. What if someone had forced Cale to stay silent? Or, worse, what if an insider had staged his death as a suicide?

Cassandra’s logic worked quickly, but without solid evidence, this was all just speculation. Outside the office window, the sky was turning gray, signaling that rain would soon fall.

The creak of a chair from the neighboring desk made Cassandra turn slightly. Her colleagues were busy with their own work, none seeming to notice the frustration she was experiencing. Cassandra sighed deeply, leaned back in her chair, and massaged her temples. Just as she thought that maybe she needed a short break, a cool, sweet aroma suddenly reached her.

Alexander appeared silently, sitting in the chair across from Cassandra with a faint smile on his face. "You look like you need this," he said, handing her an iced chocolate drink.

Cassandra looked at the plastic cup Alex held out. The cold chocolate drink with whipped cream on top looked tempting. A small smile appeared at the corner of Cassandra’s mouth, though her thoughts were still heavy. "Trying to bribe me?" she half-joked, taking the iced chocolate and slowly swirling it in her hand.

"Think of it as moral support," Alexander replied casually. "We all know you’re going to need plenty of it before today ends."

Cassandra nodded slowly, feeling a bit of comfort from Alex’s presence, even though her problems were still piling up in front of her.

Alexander leaned back in his chair casually, observing Cassandra as she stared at the iced chocolate in her hand. He knew well how Cassandra could become absorbed in her work, diving so deeply that she often forgot her body and mind had limits.

"You know," Alexander finally said, his tone light but caring, "if you keep going like this, you’re going to get sick, Cass."

Cassandra looked up, her tired but determined eyes meeting Alexander’s. "I’m fine," she replied quickly, though her tone wasn’t entirely convincing.

Alexander gave a faint smile, crossing his arms over his chest. "That’s what you always say. And every time you say you’re fine, it means you’re ignoring something important—like rest and food."

Cassandra sighed, placing the iced chocolate on the table with a small thud. She knew Alex was right, but her mind was still consumed by the unsolved mysteries. Everything felt urgent—Cale Callaghan’s case, Antonio Franches’ involvement, and Michael Foster’s death.

How could she rest when every minute felt like a wasted opportunity?

"I can’t stop now, Alex. You know that," she said quietly. Her eyes drifted back to the computer screen, as if hoping the answers she sought would suddenly appear. "I’m so close to connecting everything… It feels like I’m just one step away."

Alexander tilted his head, his gaze softening. "Cass, I know you’re stubborn. And I know you care deeply about this case. But it won’t do any good if you keep pushing yourself until you collapse."

Cassandra closed her eyes for a moment, trying to absorb Alexander’s words. She knew her friend wasn’t wrong. She had experienced bad days before—days when her body gave up because she was too focused on working non-stop.

"It doesn’t mean you have to stop completely," Alexander added, his tone gentler now. "But at least give yourself a little time. You need a clear mind to solve this, Cass."

Cassandra opened her eyes, looking at Alexander with a weak but genuine smile. "You care too much, Alex," she said softly, a hint of gratitude in her voice.

Alexander chuckled. "Someone has to care, right? And it just so happens that someone is me."

Cassandra’s smile grew a bit wider, if only briefly. She realized that amidst all the chaos, she still had people who cared about her. It wasn’t something to be taken for granted.

"Thank you, Alex," she finally said sincerely. "I appreciate your concern."

Alexander shrugged lightly, then grinned. "Whenever you need me, you know where to find me." Cassandra nodded slowly.

At least, for a moment, she didn’t feel alone in the battle she was facing.

Cassandra had just taken a sip of the iced chocolate when her phone vibrated on the desk. The screen lit up, displaying a name that instantly made her heart race—Antonio Franches.

A short text message appeared on the screen:

"We need to talk. Meet me tonight at La Marque Restaurant, 8 p.m. Don’t be late."

Cassandra frowned. The message felt more like a command than an invitation. Torn between curiosity and caution, she wondered what Antonio actually wanted from her. The message came at an inconvenient time—just when Cale Callaghan’s case was growing more tangled and suspicious.

Her fingers hovered over the phone screen, hesitating whether to reply or ignore the message. Antonio wasn’t known for his patience. But meeting him unprepared wasn’t a wise move either.

Behind Antonio’s charismatic facade, Cassandra knew there was a dangerous figure capable of changing everything in an instant. She set the phone back on the table, this time more forcefully than she intended, catching Alexander’s attention.

"What’s wrong?" Alex asked, raising an eyebrow, clearly noticing the change in Cassandra’s expression.

"Nothing," Cassandra answered quickly, though her tone was a bit tense.

Alexander tilted his head, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. "You don’t look like someone who just got a message from ‘nothing.’ Who was it, Cass?"

Cassandra tried to stay calm, but Alexander’s sharp gaze made her feel increasingly uneasy. She knew Alex wasn’t easily fooled, yet Cassandra couldn’t let anyone know about her meeting with Antonio—not even Alex. "It’s just Jessica," Cassandra lied with a forced casual tone. "She wants to know when we can hang out again."

Alexander frowned, seemingly not entirely convinced. "Jessica again? You two always have something weird going on, huh?"

Cassandra chuckled softly, though there was no humor in it. "Jessica’s full of surprises," she said, trying to divert Alex’s attention.

Alexander finally shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "Alright. If it’s Jessica, I won’t ask further. But make sure she doesn’t drag you into another mess."

"Of course."

Alex looked at her for a moment with a caring expression, then walked away with a casual stride.

Cassandra watched Alex’s retreating figure, then picked up the iced chocolate, swirling it in her hand. Tonight would be a long night, and she still didn’t know exactly what to expect from the meeting with Antonio.