The city hadn't changed.
But something—
Felt off.
Cassian noticed it the moment he stepped out.
Not obvious.
Not loud.
Just…
Wrong.
The air didn't move the same.
The people didn't look the same.
Even the silence—
Felt different.
He adjusted his cuff slowly, eyes scanning the street with practiced ease.
Nothing out of place.
And yet—
Everything was.
"…Strange," he murmured.
Then he moved.
The first meeting was routine.
Or at least—
It should have been.
A high-rise office. Glass walls. Clean design. One of his long-standing trade partners.
Reliable.
Profitable.
Loyal.
Or so he thought.
Cassian stepped inside without waiting.
Confidence intact.
Control assumed.
But the moment he entered—
He saw it.
The tension.
The hesitation.
The man behind the desk didn't stand to greet him.
Didn't smile.
Didn't even pretend.
"…We need to talk," the man said.
Cassian stopped.
Slowly.
"…That's usually my line."
No humor came in response.
Only silence.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Then—
"We're cutting ties."
Just like that.
Clean.
Final.
Cassian blinked once.
Then—
He smiled.
Not amused.
Curious.
"…You're joking."
"I'm not."
The room tightened.
Because something about this—
Didn't fit.
"You've worked with me for years," Cassian said calmly.
"And I'm ending it now."
No explanation.
No apology.
Just—
Fear.
Cassian saw it.
Clear as day.
"…Who?" he asked quietly.
The man hesitated.
Then looked away.
"…I can't say."
Cassian stepped closer.
Slow.
Deliberate.
"You will say."
The pressure in his voice sharpened.
Dangerous.
But instead of breaking—
The man stiffened.
"…If I do," he said lowly, "I won't live to regret it."
A pause.
Then—
"But if I keep working with you…"
He swallowed.
"…none of us will."
Silence.
And in that silence—
Cassian understood.
This wasn't betrayal.
This was fear.
Real fear.
The kind that didn't come from rumors.
The kind that came from proof.
He stepped back.
Slowly.
Smile fading.
"…Understood."
And just like that—
He left.
The second meeting ended the same.
The third—
Didn't even happen.
Canceled.
Without explanation.
Locked its doors before he arrived.
And by the fifth—
Cassian stopped pretending it was coincidence.
He stood alone in a dimly lit room, phone pressed to his ear.
"…You too?"
Silence on the other end.
Then—
"Yes."
No hesitation.
No excuse.
Just confirmation.
"…And let me guess," he said quietly.
"They didn't give a name."
A pause.
"…No."
Of course not.
"They just said…" the voice continued.
And for the first time—
There was fear in it.
Real fear.
"…that an upper-tier family has taken interest."
Cassian's grip tightened slightly.
"Interest in what?"
Another pause.
Then—
"In you."
Silence.
Cold.
Heavy.
"…And?" Cassian asked.
"They warned us."
A breath.
"If we continue any dealings with you…"
The voice dropped.
"…we'll be wiped out."
No exaggeration.
No dramatics.
Just—
Fact.
Cassian slowly lowered the phone.
The line went dead.
But he didn't move.
Didn't react.
Because now—
It was clear.
This wasn't random.
This wasn't business.
This—
Was deliberate.
Someone had moved against him.
Quietly.
Efficiently.
Systematically.
Cutting him off.
Piece by piece.
Without ever showing their face.
Cassian exhaled slowly.
"…Interesting."
But beneath that calm—
Something darker stirred.
Because whoever this was—
They weren't just powerful.
They were precise.
And that made them dangerous.
*******
Night fell heavier than usual.
Even the city seemed quieter.
Like it knew something had shifted.
Cassian returned to his residence.
A penthouse high above the streets.
Untouchable.
Or at least—
That's what it was supposed to be.
He stepped inside.
Lights already on.
Nothing disturbed.
Nothing out of place.
And yet—
He stopped.
Because something—
Was wrong.
Not visible.
Not immediate.
But there.
Waiting.
He walked forward slowly.
Each step measured.
Eyes scanning.
Then—
He saw it.
On the table.
A single envelope.
Placed perfectly at the center.
No marks.
No seal.
No sign of how it got there.
Cassian approached.
Carefully.
His hand reached out—
Then paused.
A rare hesitation.
Then—
He picked it up.
Opened it.
Inside—
A single sheet.
No signature.
No name.
Clean.
Precise.
Unmistakable.
"Do not mistake curiosity for permission."
Cassian's eyes narrowed slightly.
He read on.
"Stay away from her."
A pause.
His grip tightened.
"Do not speak to her."
"Do not follow her."
"Do not think of her."
The room felt colder.
Because this—
This wasn't a warning.
It was a command.
Final line—
Simple.
Terrifying.
"Or you will be erased."
Cassian lowered the paper slowly.
His expression didn't change.
But his eyes—
Darkened.
Because now—
He understood.
This wasn't just about business.
This wasn't just about power.
This—
Was personal.
And whoever had done this—
Whoever had cut him off, silenced his network, reached into his space without resistance—
They weren't just watching him.
They were above him.
A faint smile touched Cassian's lips.
Not amused.
Not entertained.
Interested.
"…So that's how it is," he murmured.
His gaze drifted toward the city beyond the glass.
Lights flickering in the distance.
Unreachable.
"Seraphina…" he said softly.
The name lingered.
Heavy.
Because now—
She wasn't just intriguing.
She was protected.
By something—
Or someone—
Powerful enough to shake his entire world without stepping into it.
And that—
Only made him more curious.
More interested.
More dangerous.
Because men like Cassian—
Didn't back away from threats.
They walked toward them.
Smiling.