Chapter 3 - A Deadly Misunderstanding
Gideon shifted uncomfortably, the bravado suddenly draining from his massive frame. "Silas said... Silas said you wanted the loose end tied up, boss. Permanently."
The silence that followed was suffocating. Cassian didn’t yell. He didn’t reach for a weapon. He simply walked toward Gideon with the slow, deliberate grace of an apex predator.
"Silas," Cassian repeated, the name tasting like poison on his tongue. "Silas gave the order to execute a civilian under my roof?"
"Yes, sir," Gideon swallowed hard.
Cassian stopped inches from Elara. Up close, he was terrifyingly flawless, his features carved from marble and shadow. He looked down at the blood drying on her temple. "You survived a New York freeze with a concussion. You're either incredibly lucky, or incredibly stubborn."
"I have a sister," Elara whispered, the words tearing from her raw throat. "If I die, she dies. I didn't have a choice."
Cassian’s eyes darkened, catching a flicker of the absolute desperation radiating from her. He turned back to his men. "Get out. Both of you."
"But boss—"
May you like
"Out."
The men scrambled for the elevator. When the doors closed, Cassian walked over to a wet bar, poured a glass of amber liquid, and held it out to Elara. "Drink. Then you're going to tell me exactly what you heard before Silas decided you needed to die."
