Chapter 5 - The Shadows of the Past
That evening, back at the estate, the victory over Victor Hale was celebrated not with loud parties, but with a quiet, candlelit dinner in the conservatory.
Elena sat across from Cassian, sipping a glass of rare vintage red wine. The tension of the afternoon had left her body, replaced by a deep, comfortable exhaustion.
"How did you get that journal?" Cassian asked, cutting into a tender piece of filet mignon. "I thought your father’s estate was cleared out years ago."
"George, the butler at Blackthorn Manor," Elena revealed with a soft smile. "He was my father’s closest friend. When my father died, George kept his personal journals safe in his trunk, waiting for the day I might need them to clear his name. He gave it to me yesterday before I left the manor."
Cassian looked at her with deep admiration. "You carry a lot of ghosts, Elena."
"We all do," she replied quietly, looking at him over the rim of her glass. "What about you, Cassian? What ghosts live in this huge house?"
Cassian set his fork down. The atmosphere shifted, becoming heavier, darker.
"My father," Cassian said plainly. "Charles Voss was not a good man. He ran this family like a military syndicate. He treated my mother like a decorative trophy until she lost her mind and ran away. He spent his whole life trying to mold me into an unfeeling monster just like him."
"Did he succeed?" Elena asked gently.
Cassian met her gaze. "For a long time, I thought he did. I took over his shipping routes, expanded his empire, and destroyed anyone who tried to stand in my way. I shut off my heart because feeling anything in this world makes you weak."
He reached across the small table, his large hand folding over hers. "Until three nights ago. Until a woman in a maid's dress sat down at a piano and played with so much passion that she made me feel alive for the first time in fifteen years."
Elena felt a lump form in her throat. The heat between them was no longer just about a business arrangement or mutual benefit. It was real, raw, and dangerous.
"Cassian..." she whispered.
Before he could answer, the heavy double doors of the conservatory were pushed open without warning.
Mrs. Gable stood in the doorway, her face pale and her hand clutching a silver tray holding a sealed, thick black envelope.
"Forgive the interruption, Mr. Voss," Mrs. Gable said, her voice shaking slightly. "This was just delivered to the front gate by a courier on a motorcycle. He said it was urgent."
Cassian broke contact with Elena and took the envelope. He tore it open, pulling out a single sheet of heavy cream parchment.
As his eyes scanned the handwritten lines, his face turned to stone. The color drained from his lips, replaced by a look of pure, terrifying rage.
"Cassian? What is it?" Elena asked, standing up from her seat.
May you like
Cassian slowly crushed the paper in his fist.
"My brother," Cassian said, his voice dropping into a register so dark it made the hair on Elena's arms stand up. "Julian is back."
