Chapter 63 Chapter 63

Chapter 63 Chapter 63
CASSIAN'S POV

The doorbell rang at seven in the evening.

I was not expecting anyone. Darius was out of town. Dominic had been strangely silent all day. I had not ordered food. I had not called for anything. I walked to the door, opened it, and felt my blood run cold.

Dominic's wife was standing in the hallway.

She was beautiful. Dark hair. Dark eyes. The same woman I had seen at the gala. The same woman who had watched me kiss her husband on the balcony. She was wearing a simple black dress. No jewelry. No makeup. She looked tired.

"Cassian," she said. Her voice was soft. Calm.

"What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you."

"About what?"

"About Dominic. About us. About everything."

I stepped aside. Let her in. She walked past me into the apartment. Her heels clicked against the floor. She stopped in the middle of the room. Turned to face me.

"Can I get you something?" I asked. "Water? Coffee?"

"No. I will not be here long."

She sat down on the couch. I sat across from her. The distance between us felt like miles.

"What do you want to talk about?" I asked.

"About Dominic. About what he is doing to you. About what he is doing to your brother."

My jaw tightened. "What do you know about my brother?"

"I know everything. I know Dominic kidnapped him. I know he is using him to control you. I know he has been obsessed with you since you were children."

"Then why are you here? Why are you not helping him?"

She laughed. A soft sound. Hollow.

"Because I am not his wife. Not really. I am a business arrangement. A contract. I get money. He gets appearances. Neither of us cares about the other."

"I do not understand."

"I know you do not. That is why I am here."

She reached into her bag. Pulled out a folder. Handed it to me. I opened it. My hands were shaking.

Divorce papers.

Signed. By both of them. Dominic's signature was at the bottom. So was hers.

"Why are you showing me this?" I asked.

"Because I want you to understand. Before you make a decision. Before you do something you cannot take back."

"Understand what?"

"Understand Dominic. Understand why he is the way he is. Understand what he has been through."

"He has been through nothing. He is a monster. He destroyed me."

"He did. But he also loved you. He has always loved you. And he has spent the last seven years punishing himself for what he did."

"What are you talking about?"

She was quiet for a moment. Then she told me everything.

About the promise to his mother. About his father. About the beating. About the scars. About the accident. About the years of guilt. About the way he had come back to Italy every year, to the apartment where I had left him, to sit on the balcony and wait for me.

"He is broken," she said. "He has always been broken. And he does not know how to fix himself. So he does terrible things. He pushes people away. He hurts the people he loves. Because he does not think he deserves them."

I stared at her. My hands were shaking. My heart was pounding.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked.

"Because I want you to understand. Before you make a decision. Before you do something you cannot take back."

"Understand what?"

"Understand that he loves you. And that he needs you. Even if he does not know how to show it."

She stood up. Walked toward the door. Paused with her hand on the handle.

"Talk to him," she said. "That is all I ask. Just talk to him."

She left.

The door closed behind her.

I sat on the couch. The divorce papers were in my hands. I read them again. And again. And again.

\---

I did not know what to do.

I had spent seven years hating him. Seven years telling myself he was a monster. Seven years convincing myself that I was better off without him.

But now I knew the truth. He was not a monster. He was broken. And I was the only person who could fix him.

I stood up. Walked to the bedroom. Looked at myself in the mirror. My face was pale. My eyes were tired. My hands were shaking.

I needed to see him. I needed to talk to him. I needed to understand.

I changed my clothes. Black shirt. Dark jeans. The same clothes I always wore. I grabbed my keys. Walked to the door.

I was going to Dominic's penthouse. I was going to confront him. I was going to make him tell me the truth. I was going to make him set my brother free.

I got in my car. Started the engine. Pulled out of the parking lot.

The streets were dark. The city was quiet. I drove through the empty roads, my mind racing. What would I say? How would I start? Would he even listen?

I did not have answers. I just knew I had to go.

I stopped at a red light. I leaned my head against the steering wheel. Tried to breathe. Tried to calm my racing heart.

I did not see the figure approach my car. Did not hear the door open. Did not feel the needle enter my neck until it was too late.

The world went dark.

\---

I woke up to cold concrete.

My head was pounding. My vision was blurry. My arms were tied behind my back. My ankles were tied to the legs of a chair. I was in a room. Abandoned. Dilapidated. The walls were bare. The floor was dusty. The only light came from a single bulb hanging from the ceiling.

I tried to move. I could not. The ropes were tight. Cutting into my wrists.

My first thought was Dominic. He had kidnapped me. He had brought me here. He was going to keep me prisoner, just like he had kept my brother.

But then the door opened.

And my heart stopped.

Standing in the doorway was a man. Tall. Grey hair. Cold eyes. Dressed in an expensive suit. He looked like a statue. He looked like a ghost.

"Dad," I whispered.