Cassiel’s POVJulian didn’t lock the door.Of course, he didn’t.I stepped out of the bathroom, a towel slung low around my hips, water dripping from my hair, rolling down my chest. I knew he could hear me—his breath hitched, a sharp inhale that cut through the heavy silence of the room.I didn’t acknowledge him. Not yet.The bedroom lights were dim, casting shadows along the walls. Julian sat on the edge of the bed, his back tense, his hands gripping the sheets like he was holding himself in place. Like he knew—He should leave.He wouldn’t.I crossed the room without a word, heading for the closet. I could feel his gaze on me, tracking every movement, the weight of it almost palpable. I let the towel hang a little looser, just enough to test him.He exhaled sharply.I bit back a smirk.The closet door creaked open. I reached for a pair of worn pajama pants, pulling them from the drawer, but then—I changed my mind.I turned back. Stepped out.Naked.Julian made a strangled sound—som
Julian’s POVI woke up alone.My body ached in places I didn’t want to think about, a lingering reminder of everything that had happened last night. The sheets smelled like sex — and Cassiel—rich, expensive cologne with an edge of something darker, typical him.I shoved them off in annoyance.“Idiot.” I rubbed a hand over my face, sitting up. “What the hell were you thinking?”I hadn’t been thinking. That was the problem. I’d let myself get swept up in his touch, in the way the bastard knew exactly how to unravel me for some reason. And now?Gone.No trace of him in the massive bedroom, no note, no message—nothing.My lips curled. Of course.“Typical,” I muttered, wondering what I had expected before swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. I grabbed a pair of pants from the floor, pulled them on, and padded barefoot into the hallway.The penthouse was silent apart from maids that were taking care of cleaning and I quickly had the breakfast they placed before me.If he wasn’t here,
Cassiel’s POVI placed my phone down on the desk, fingers tightening for a brief second before releasing. My gaze stayed fixed on the cityscape beyond the massive glass windows, but my mind wasn’t on the skyline.Julian had almost gotten inside.Too close.I exhaled through my nose, my jaw tightening. I should have anticipated this. Julian wasn’t a fool—he was stubborn, perceptive, and far too reckless for his own good. It had only been a matter of time before curiosity led him where it shouldn’t.But not yet.He wasn’t ready. Julian sure as hell wasn’t ready.The next time he gets that close…A muscle twitched in my jaw. I didn’t like dealing with threats — not when it came to Julian. But there were lines even I wouldn’t allow to be crossed.My fingers drummed against the desk. I’d have to handle it.And then the door flew open.Not violently. Not the way an enemy would enter.But with the kind of audacity that belonged to only one person.I didn’t move. I heard the sharp click of h
Third POVRenata walked away from Cassiel’s office and paused at the hallway before the secretary’s office. She pulled out her phone from her purse and dialed a familiar number then held her phone to her ear, her nails tapping against it in an impatient rhythm.The call connected and the voice on the other end spoke in a hushed, almost amused tone.“Your breathing sounds tense, Renata.”Her jaw tightened. “Tense? Tense would be an understatement.” She exhaled sharply, her eyes closed in an effort to stem the irritation she felt. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve seen him?”A pause.“Cassiel?”“Who the fuck else?” she snapped, her patience wearing thin.A chuckle. “Careful, querida. You don’t usually let a man rattle you.”Renata’s grip on her phone tightened. “Don’t be fucking stupid. This isn’t about him rattling me.” She leaned forward, pressing her elbow against the wall. “It’s about that little purchase of his. The one that was supposed to be a passing amusement.”“Ahhh,”
I glanced at the darkened skyline beyond my office window, loosened my tie and was about to pour myself a drink when my phone buzzed. I answered after noting the caller ID was from the penthouse and tensed. The maids only called me if there was an emergency. Julian I snatched it up. “Speak.” A hesitant female voice came through the receiver. “Sir, it’s Lucia.” I frowned. One of the maids. “What is it?” “It’s about Mr. Julian.” My grip on the phone tightened. “What about him?” Lucia hesitated. “He… hasn’t left the bedroom all day, sir. He refused lunch. We tried to coax him, even Mrs. Rojas spoke to him, but he won’t eat.” My eyes darkened. Mrs. Rojas was one of the older maids, a woman with a voice as warm as fresh bread and the patience of a saint. If Julian had refused even her— I exhaled slowly, my jaw ticking. “Prepare dinner,” I ordered. “I’ll be home soon.” “Yes, sir.” I hung up and immediately turned to Enzo, who was still lounging in the sofa across f
Third POVThe gunshot split the air like a thunderclap.Cassiel’s hand moved on instinct.In a single, fluid motion, he wrenched Julian by the collar and yanked him off the chair just as the windows behind them shattered. Glass rained down like a thousand jagged knives, sparkling under the chandelier’s glow.The maids screamed from the kitchen.Julian hit the floor with a grunt, but Cassiel didn’t let go. He flattened Julian beneath him, shielding him with his body as he pulled out his gun and aimed toward the broken window.Silence.Then—“Stay down.” Cassiel’s voice was ice-cold.Julian was breathing hard beneath him. “What the fuck—”Another shot.Cassiel rolled them both to the side, knocking over a chair just as a second bullet embedded itself in the mahogany dining table.His eyes snapped to the bullet’s trajectory.Rooftop. North side.“Fucking sniper.”Cassiel grabbed Julian by the back of the neck, hauling him to his feet. “Move.”Julian resisted. “Wait—”Cassiel shoved him t
Third POVThe club was alive.Heavy bass throbbed through the floors, shaking the air with a rhythm designed to make you forget the outside world. Strobe lights flickered, painting everything in flashes of electric blue and crimson. A den of indulgence. A place where power met pleasure.Cassiel Morelli sat in the VIP section, untouched by the chaos. He wasn’t exactly keen on facing Julian after the chaos that had erupted today because he would ask questions he wasn’t ready to answer.A glass of whiskey rested in his hand, but he barely sipped it. Across from him, Enzo lounged on the black leather couch, two women draped over him, their laughter nothing more than background noise.“You look miserable,” Enzo remarked, swirling his drink.Cassiel’s fingers tapped against his glass. “I’m fine.”Enzo smirked. “Liar.” He leaned back, stretching his arms. “We came here to unwind, but you look like you’re planning a massacre.”Cassiel finally took a sip. “Maybe I am.”Enzo chuckled, shaking h
Third POVThe estate was quiet.Not the eerie kind of quiet—the dangerous kind. The kind that came after chaos.Cassiel stepped inside, his movements smooth but purposeful, the weight of the night still lingering on his shoulders. His security detail gave subtle nods as he passed, but he barely acknowledged them.The night’s events still clung to his skin like smoke—Valerian’s threats, Renata’s confrontation, and the ever-growing sense that things were shifting, that the battle had begun.He needed a shower, maybe another drink, and then an hour of peace.His thoughts flickered to Julian.A muscle in Cassiel’s jaw twitched. Stubborn little thing. He exited the elevator and his footsteps were silent against the marble floors as he moved through the dimly lit halls, finally pushing open the bedroom door.He didn’t bother turning on the lights as his sharp gaze flicking to the bed. And there he was.Julian lay on the massive bed, curled slightly, chest rising and falling with even breath
Third POVThe dim glow of the pendant lights barely touched the shadows in Renata’s penthouse. Marco leaned against the marble counter, watching her with amusement as she poured herself a drink.“You’re awfully bold for a man with no place to go,” she muttered, swirling the amber liquid in her glass.Marco chuckled. “And you’re awfully desperate for a woman who claims she was ready to move on.”Renata shot him a glare before taking a slow sip. “I gave him a chance to reconsider.”“And he crushed it under his boot.” Marco tilted his head. “Tell me, sweetheart, did you really think Cassiel would let you back in?”Renata’s jaw clenched.“I thought he’d at least remember what we had,” she admitted, voice laced with bitterness.Marco smirked. “Oh, he remembers. He just doesn’t care.”She set the glass down with more force than necessary.“You speak as if you know him better than I do,” she muttered.Marco’s grin didn’t waver. “I know what he does to people who think they can manipulate him
Third POVThe drive back to Cassiel’s penthouse was suffocating.Julian sat in the back of the black Bentley, his fingers digging into the leather seat as the city blurred past in streaks of gold and steel. The sterile hospital scent still clung to him, an unpleasant reminder of how close he had come to dying. His body was weak, his stomach twisted with a residual nausea from the poisoning, but it was nothing compared to the unease settling in his chest.Cassiel sat beside him, silent, his profile sharp against the low glow of the dashboard light in front. His phone was in his hand, his thumb moving efficiently over the screen, issuing commands with the kind of ease that made Julian’s skin crawl.It wasn’t just that Cassiel controlled everything around him—it was the fact that he expected obedience in return.Julian shifted, inhaling slowly. The silence was unbearable.“You don’t have to act like I’m on my deathbed.”Cassiel didn’t look up. “A dead man doesn’t need to be reminded to s
Third POVThe club pulsed with life, its dim neon lights casting deep shadows over the crowd. Bodies pressed together, lost in the throbbing bass, the scent of sweat, alcohol, and desperation thick in the air. Renata Varela sat at the bar, legs crossed, her crimson dress riding up just enough to tempt but not reveal.She lifted her glass to her lips, taking a slow sip of tequila as her gaze slid lazily over the men in the room. Some were watching her, captivated by the way she carried herself—danger wrapped in silk, temptation laced with poison.And then, she found him.Tall, broad, dark-eyed. Handsome in a rugged way. The kind of man who looked like he didn’t ask too many questions.Perfect.She smirked, crooking a finger. He came without hesitation.“Looking for company?” she purred.The man leaned in, voice deep, thick with lust. “Depends. You offering?”Renata tilted her head, dragging a finger down his chest. “Maybe.”Minutes later, they were in the backseat of her sleek black ca
Third POVThe warehouse stood on the edge of the city, abandoned long ago, its walls lined with rust and forgotten sins. Faint moonlight slipped through the broken ceiling, casting jagged shadows against the cold concrete floor.Inside, two figures faced each other—one seated at a rusted steel table, fingers idly tapping the surface, the other standing in the dim light, their face obscured by the shadows.The air was thick, humming with something unspoken.The seated figure—the mastermind—tilted their head slightly, amusement curling at their lips.“Punctual. I like that.”The standing figure didn’t respond immediately. Their silence wasn’t uncertainty—it was calculation.“You said you had a plan.”A slow chuckle. “Not just a plan. A guarantee.”The standing figure exhaled. “And what guarantee would that be?”A name fell between them like a blade.“Julian Dantes.”The standing figure’s posture remained rigid, unreadable.“You want him gone.”The seated figure’s lips parted in a sharp,
Third POVThe photographs lay scattered across Julian’s ransacked apartment floor. Each one, a quiet but undeniable testament to just how long Valerian Cross had been watching.Cassiel stood motionless, the dim lighting casting long shadows over his sharp features. His steel-gray eyes swept over the images again—Julian at a piano bar, Julian on the streets, Julian leaving a grocery store—Julian, everywhere.For months.Enzo stood nearby, silent, letting the weight of the discovery sink in.Cassiel exhaled slowly, tapping a single photo against his palm.Valerian had been patient. Too patient.Now, he was making his move.Cassiel slid the photograph between his fingers and handed it to Enzo.“Find out who took these,” he ordered.Enzo nodded, taking the photo. “Whoever it was, they were good. No obvious patterns, no street angles that show a tail. This wasn’t a rush job.”“No,” Cassiel said darkly. “It was calculated.”Enzo’s brows furrowed. “If he’s had eyes on Julian for this long, w
Third POVCassiel leaned back slightly, his steel-gray eyes locked onto Julian’s. He didn’t speak right away. Instead, he let the weight of Julian’s demand settle between them like an unspoken challenge.Tell me everything.Julian’s grip on the sheets was tight, his knuckles white. He was still weak, his body recovering from the poison, but his mind was sharp—too sharp.Cassiel knew he wouldn’t let this go.A slow exhale.“Valerian Cross,” Cassiel finally said, his voice low, deliberate. “You know the name. Tell me why.”Julian’s jaw tensed. “No. You first.”Cassiel’s lips curved, but the smile was anything but amused. “You’re in no position to make demands, Julian.”Julian didn’t flinch. “I was nearly murdered in this hospital bed. I think I deserve to know why.”Cassiel studied him. Then, with an exasperated sigh, he sat back down beside the bed.“Valerian isn’t just an enemy,” Cassiel said. “He’s a problem I thought I solved years ago.” His fingers tapped against his thigh. “I was
Third POVCassiel’s grip tightened around the woman’s wrist, crushing the delicate bones beneath his fingers. The syringe trembled in her grasp, the needle’s tip still hovering mere inches above Julian’s IV line.The woman sucked in a sharp breath, her disguise crumbling under his presence.Cassiel hadn’t spoken a word.Yet his silence was more terrifying than any threat.Her breathing turned shallow, frantic. “I—”Cassiel twisted her wrist just enough to send a spike of pain shooting up her arm. Not enough to break it—not yet.“Who sent you?” His voice was low, deadly.She winced, her fingers loosening, but he didn’t let the syringe fall. He caught it effortlessly, holding it between two fingers, his gaze a blade against her skin.He turned it slightly, watching the clear liquid inside swirl. His thumb hovered over the plunger. “You were going to push this into his bloodstream.” His eyes flicked to Julian’s motionless body, his jaw ticking. “I wonder what it would do to you.”She sti
Third POVThe black maybach tore through the streets, slicing through traffic while Cassiel sat in the backseat, shoulders taut, his breathing controlled but sharp. The scent of blood filled his nostrils — blood from the mole.The scent of iron and sweat clung to his skin, soaked into the dark fabric of his ruined shirt. He exhaled through his nose, stripping it off in one fluid motion, revealing the taut muscle underneath. His body bore old scars and fresh reminders of the life he lived.The mole had cracked.Cassiel had heard his voice break, felt his bones shatter beneath his hands. And yet, there had been no relief, no satisfaction—only the lingering knowledge that the real enemy was still out there.And right now, Julian was their target.He pulled on a clean black shirt, rolling his stiff shoulders.“Faster,” he ordered.Enzo didn’t reply, but the engine growled louder, responding to the command in his voice.Cassiel’s phone vibrated with a caller ID from the hospital.He answe
Third POV The warehouse near Cassiel’s private docks was nothing short of a tomb. The dim overhead lights buzzed like dying fireflies, barely illuminating the blood-stained floor beneath them. Rust and salt clung to the air, thick and suffocating. The faint sounds of waves crashing against the docks outside were a cruel contrast to the scene unfolding within these walls. A man was slumped in a steel chair at the center of it all, arms bound behind his back with industrial-strength zip ties. His face was barely recognizable—swollen, bloody, and bruised beyond reason. His breathing came in wet, shaky gasps. Marco stood in front of him, rolling his shoulders as he wiped the blood off his knuckles with a cloth. He had spent the last hour breaking the man apart, but so far, the traitor hadn’t uttered a single useful word. A slow, deliberate set of footsteps echoed through the warehouse. Marco’s lips curled into a smirk. Cassiel stepped inside, Enzo trailing behind him. The moment