Sixteen

Antonio Franches sat in his black leather chair, slowly spinning the ring on his finger. His office was dimly lit, with only the soft glow of a desk lamp illuminating the stacks of files on the mahogany desk. Antonio’s face remained cold, emotionless, but his sharp gaze conveyed an aura of unbroken control.

In the silence, the office door opened with a soft click. A tall man with neatly cropped dark hair stepped in—it was Ben, his right-hand man, the one who always carried out orders without question. Without any pleasantries, Ben approached, slipping his hands into his pants pockets and reporting in a low tone, "Cale Callaghan is dead in custody."

Antonio lifted his icy gaze, showing no sign of surprise, as though he’d predicted this outcome long before Ben reported it. He leaned back in his chair with slow movements, turning the ring on his finger once more, this time with a slower rhythm, as if counting time in his mind. "What’s the status?" Antonio asked, his voice low and controlled.

Ben stood straight in front of the desk, his posture rigid yet confident. "Our people made sure it looks like a suicide. He was found hanging from the bars in his cell."

Antonio gave a soft scoff, almost like a smile that didn’t reach his lips. "Of course he was hanging," he murmured to himself, as though every step had been anticipated, every part of the scenario going precisely as planned. "Cassandra Baker will immediately suspect something’s wrong," he continued, his tone half-joking, though his eyes gleamed with meticulous calculation.

Ben nodded. "She’s already examined the body. But so far, she doesn’t have enough evidence to connect us to Cale’s death."

Antonio looked at Ben for a long moment, his gaze piercing as if scrutinizing every possible mistake. "Were there any traces?" he asked, calm yet with a hidden threat.

Ben was unfazed. He’d worked with Antonio long enough to know how this man operated—calm on the surface but deadly beneath it. "None. We ensured our people did their job well," Ben answered firmly, his eyes resolute.

Antonio was silent, weighing the answer. The ring on his finger continued to spin in smooth motions as he plotted his next steps. A satisfied grin appeared, a sly gleam flickering in his eyes. His fingers continued turning the ring with a steady rhythm, a sign he was savoring his control over the situation.

Every step had been laid out with precision, like chess pieces set in place, ready to checkmate his opponent in one move. He looked at Ben, who still stood straight before his desk. Antonio’s cold gaze sharpened as though penetrating his subordinate’s mind. "Follow Cassandra," he ordered, his voice low and smooth, yet leaving no room for error. "I want to know her every move. If she tries to step where she shouldn’t…" Ben nodded, understanding the unspoken implications. Antonio wasn’t one to over-explain—his messages were always clear. "I’ll assign our best team," Ben replied curtly.

Antonio looked at him intently, as though searching for any signs of hesitation. But Ben was the kind who left no gaps. He knew precisely how this game was played—silent and obedient, carrying out orders to perfection.

"Make sure they stay unseen. Cassandra isn’t a fool," Antonio continued, his tone half-warning. "She must already be suspicious after Cale’s death. I want to see how she responds."

Ben nodded again, his face expressionless. "We’ll report her every move," he replied calmly.

Antonio sat up straighter, gripping his ring as though savoring the scenario he was orchestrating. His dark eyes stared blankly out the large window, but his mind was fixed on one thing: Cassandra Baker.

Antonio knew she wasn’t just any cop. There was something about her—resolve, cleverness, and bravery that others lacked. That made Cassandra both intriguing and dangerous, especially if she dug too deep.

"Track everyone she meets," Antonio said slowly, letting his words hang in the air. "I want to know if my fiancée is going to make a move."

Ben nodded once more, then turned and left the room swiftly and quietly. Antonio watched the door close behind Ben, sinking back into his thoughts. The plan he’d crafted couldn’t fail. Cassandra’s every move would determine the direction of this game—and Antonio intended to stay one step ahead of her. Tonight’s meeting was more than just a dinner; it was a test.

Ben stood in the doorway, but before stepping out, he hesitated briefly. "Mr. Franches," he called softly, as if his next words required more courage. "Cassandra isn’t an ordinary person. She’s a well-regarded police officer. Sooner or later, she’ll smell something rotten around us."

Antonio raised an eyebrow, showing brief interest in Ben’s warning. But within seconds, he relaxed back into his chair, smirking. "Are you worried?" he asked lightly, his tone containing a hint of mockery.

Ben looked at Antonio expressionlessly, though deep down, the concern was real. "It’s not about worry," he answered professionally. "But the more time she spends digging, the greater the risk she’ll uncover things she shouldn’t. Marrying her will only increase that risk, won’t it?"

Antonio listened, his fingers once again spinning the ring on his finger. The soft sound of metal spinning on his skin became a calming rhythm—the rhythm of a man used to dealing with threats like Cassandra.

"Ben," he said, this time with a deeper tone, full of confidence, "you’re overthinking the small stuff. Cop or not, Cassandra is only human. Everyone has a weak point. And I know how to find hers."

Ben nodded slowly, though his worries hadn’t completely vanished. But he knew there was no use debating further with Antonio. The man was always one step ahead, and his plans were executed with deadly precision.

Antonio narrowed his eyes as though visualizing Cassandra as a chess piece on the board. He already knew when to strike and when to let that piece move freely. But one thing was certain—Antonio never let his opponents win.

"Trust me," Antonio continued, his tone full of conviction. "This will be interesting." His lips curved into a small smile, an expression full of deception and early victory. "I’ll be waiting to see what Cassandra does next."

Ben merely nodded, then turned and left the room quietly. The door closed with a soft click, leaving Antonio alone in the silence.

Antonio returned his gaze to the large window behind his desk, watching the city’s silhouette begin to sink into twilight. In his mind, Cassandra Morgan was merely a pawn he needed to control. But this pawn was different—it could become a threat, or perhaps an intriguing ally.

Whatever happened, Antonio was certain of one thing: tonight was the beginning of something big. And he was prepared to meet Cassandra’s every move—patiently and lethally.