121

121
CASSIAN’S POV

I sat at the head of the long table in the boardroom, but I felt miles away. My hands were flat on the cold glass surface, trying to steady a pulse that refused to calm. The words flying around me meant nothing. Just noise. Numbers. Threats. Panic dressed in tailored suits.

“Cassian,” one of the directors said. “You need to sign off on this asset freeze. If not, we risk total collapse in—”

“How much did we lose?” I asked, eyes still fixed on the table.

He blinked. “In the last thirty-six hours? About eleven point four million.”

Someone cursed under their breath. Another cleared their throat. I barely flinched. Eleven million used to feel like blood. Now it felt like smoke, vanishing before I could even hold it.

“Pull everything from non-essential branches,” I said. “Pause the merger with Valcroft. Divert legal to focus on the breach.”

A younger partner leaned forward. “That’s not going to save the quarter.”

“No,” I said, standing up. “It won’t. But it might save the damn company.”

I walked out before they could argue. The second the door shut behind me, I reached into my pocket, pulled out my phone, and stared at Leo’s photo. His smile—Aurora’s eyes. My chest ached.

I could fight for this company. Or I could fight for my son. But I was not sure anymore if I could do both.

AURORA’S POV

Leo’s tiny fingers curled around mine as the monitor beeped steadily beside him. I counted every sound like a promise. He was sleeping. Peaceful. But I was not. I sat stiffly beside the bed, arms wrapped around myself. My insides were chaos.

The nurse stepped in quietly. “His vitals are stable,” she said. “But Dr. Moreau wants to run another scan tonight.”

I nodded, though my throat was tight. “Okay. Just let me know when.”

She hesitated at the door. “Do you need anything?”

I shook my head. “No. Just... just time.”

When she left, I leaned over and brushed a hand over Leo’s hair. Soft and fine, like down. He looked so small against the hospital sheets. My brave boy. My everything. The weight of what I had not told Cassian pressed down on me.

I should tell him. I should. But every time I tried, the fear caught me by the throat. What if he took Leo away? What if he used this to prove I was unfit? What if I lost him again, but this time it was not just me?

I rested my head against the side of the bed and closed my eyes. For just a minute. Just until the panic faded. But it did not. Not even close.

CASSIAN’S POV

By the time I reached the hospital, it was nearly dark. The hallway lights were dim, soft like candlelight. A nurse gave me a polite nod as I passed. My steps slowed outside Leo’s room. I was not sure what I would find on the other side.

I pushed the door open quietly.

Aurora looked up from the bedside, eyes rimmed red. Her mouth parted like she wanted to speak but forgot how. Leo lay still between us, the machines murmuring their quiet song.

“I should not be here this late,” I said, voice rough.

She shrugged. “He will want to see you in the morning anyway.”

I walked closer, stopping just short of the chair across from her. “How bad is it, Aurora? The truth.”

Her eyes dropped to Leo. She took a breath. “The doctors are still figuring it out. It is genetic. Some markers they missed at birth. They think it may affect his heart.”

I blinked. The floor shifted. “His heart?”

She nodded. “He gets tired easily. They said it might be manageable. Or... not.”

I sank into the chair, knees weak. “Why did you not tell me sooner?”

“I was scared,” she said. Her voice cracked, barely a whisper. “You have power. Resources. Lawyers. I did not know what you would do.”

I looked at her. Really looked at her. “I would have shown up. Like this. Maybe not perfect. But I would have come.”

She wiped at her cheek. “Then do not leave now.”

AURORA’S POV

Cassian stayed.

He stayed through the quiet. Through the dark. Through the silence that pressed against us like heavy smoke. Leo stirred once, and Cassian held his hand like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. Maybe it was.

“You really kept the book?” I asked suddenly.

He glanced at me. “I did. It smelled like you.”

That should not have made me cry. But it did. I looked away, ashamed of the way it broke me. “I thought you forgot me the minute I walked out.”

“I tried to,” he said. “It was easier than feeling it.”

I let the silence stretch between us like a bridge. Not strong enough to cross. Not yet. But there.

“I cannot fight like you do,” I said. “I do not have a boardroom or an army of advisors.”

“But you fight for him,” he said, nodding toward Leo. “And that is the only war that matters.”

I looked down at my son’s sleeping face. My heart thudded with something new. Not quite forgiveness. Not yet. But something softer than hate. Something warmer than fear.

“I want what is best for him,” I said.

“Then let me help,” Cassian said. “No more games. No more secrets.”

CASSIAN’S POV

My phone buzzed again as we sat there in the dark. Another alert. Another threat to the company. I read the message, my stomach turning to stone.

“Cassian,” Aurora said, watching me. “What is it now?”

I showed her the screen. “The breach. It is worse than we thought. They are siphoning through dummy fronts now. Shell companies. Someone is targeting us both.”

She frowned. “Why me?”

I stared at her. “Because we are not enemies anymore. And that scares them.”

She went still. “Do you think it is Julian?”

“I think,” I said, “it is someone who knows too much about both of us.”

Her face tightened. “You said earlier someone sent a photo. From the elevator.”

“They are watching. They want us off balance. One wrong move, and we lose everything. You. Me. Leo.”

The sound of a monitor beeped sharply behind us. We both jumped. The nurse entered quickly, checked the machine, then gave a small nod.

“False alarm,” she said. “He just moved in his sleep.”

Aurora let out a shaky breath.

But I could not breathe easy.

Not yet.

Not until I knew who was playing this game.

And why I had the terrible feeling we were already losing.

AURORA’S POV

Cassian stood to leave just before dawn, his coat slung over one arm. He looked tired. Not in the usual rich man way, but truly worn out. His eyes were soft when they met mine.

“Do not disappear on me again,” he said.

“I won’t,” I said. “Not unless you give me a reason.”

He gave a weak smile. “Fair.”

We did not hug. We did not kiss. We just... paused.

And for once, that felt like enough.

He stepped out into the hallway, phone already pressed to his ear.

I looked at Leo again, brushing my thumb over his cheek.

But then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flash.

A flicker of movement on the monitor.

A file opened itself on the screen. Unprompted. Unreadable coding filling the display.

I frowned and stood slowly.

The machine blinked once.

Then shut off completely.

And the room went dark.