Dinner stretched between them like a tightened wire, humming with everything left unsaid.
Mira pushed a piece of roasted lemon cod across her plate, rearranging it without taking a bite. The food had gone cold minutes ago, but she hadn't noticed. Her attention kept slipping—snagged again and again on Cassian. On the way his gaze lingered too long, too deliberately, as if he were reading something beneath her skin instead of looking at her face.
It made her restless. Uneasy.
He finally set his glass down, the soft clink against the table slicing through the silence.
"We need to talk about last night."
Her fork slipped from her fingers, clattering softly against the plate.
"Cassian, don't—"
"No more running." His voice was calm, controlled, and somehow more dangerous for it. "Whatever you think happened, whatever you're afraid of, whatever you've convinced yourself this is—"
His phone vibrated sharply against the table.
The shift in him was immediate. His jaw tightened. His eyes flicked to the screen, irritation flashing briefly before hardening into cold focus. He exhaled through his nose—the sound a man made when an unexpected disaster detonated in the middle of his evening.
"I have to take this."
Mira nodded too fast. "Yeah. Go. It's fine. Really."
Too fine.
Cassian studied her for a beat longer, his eyes narrowing as if he didn't believe her- which, to be fair, he shouldn't have. But he didn't comment. He stepped away, his voice dropping into a low, clipped cadence as he spoke into the phone. Businesslike. Sharp. Whatever was happening, it wasn't small.
When he returned, the air around him felt different.
He slid his phone into his pocket and looked at her. "I'm needed," he said. "Immediately."
"Right," she replied, relief flooding her so quickly she almost sagged in her chair.
His gaze locked onto hers. "This conversation isn't over."
Her throat tightened. "I know."
Cassian slipped on his coat and walked out without another word, the room seeming colder the moment he disappeared.
Ryan appeared seconds later, as if he'd been waiting just beyond the door the entire time.
"Ms. Serrano," he said evenly, "the driver is ready."
"Thanks," she muttered, keeping her eyes down as she followed him out.
The apartment's quiet warmth felt like a blessing when Mira returned later that night.
Livia was sprawled across the couch, a face mask smeared on and a bowl of popcorn balanced on her stomach, reality TV murmuring in the background.
"Well?" Livia asked immediately. "Did the powerful, morally ambiguous billionaire try to seduce you or sacrifice you to Wall Street?"
"He didn't get the chance," Mira said, kicking off her heels. "He was interrupted."
Livia clapped her hands dramatically. "Bless the heavens."
Mira managed a weak laugh before retreating to her room and collapsing onto the bed. Sleep claimed her almost instantly, exhaustion pulling her under before her thoughts could catch up.
Less than twelve hours later, she woke with a heavy head and slow thoughts.
For several seconds, Mira lay still in her bed at the Serrano Estate, staring at the ceiling as she tried to pull herself fully into consciousness. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, soft and golden—but the night before still clung to her. The dinner. Cassian's unfinished words. His abrupt departure.
Something felt off.
She sat up slowly.
A strange tightness tugged at her chest.
She tried to ignore it as she moved through her morning routine, brushing her teeth, splashing cool water on her face, but the sense of wrongness only sharpened, curling deeper with every passing minute.
By the time she stood in front of the mirror, a towel wrapped around her shoulders, her stomach dropped with sudden, terrifying clarity.
Her period.
She ran through the dates in her head and felt heat rush to her cheeks.
Three days late.
Her cycles were always precise. Predictable. Almost obsessively regular. Mira gripped the counter, her fingers whitening.
"No," she whispered. "Please, no."
Her hands shook as she reached for her phone and dialed the only person who wouldn't panic before listening.
"Livia," she said the moment the call connected.
Her sister answered groggily. "What? Why are you calling me this early? Did Cassian kidnap you?"
"No," Mira whispered, pacing the bathroom. "Something's wrong."
That woke Livia instantly. "Wrong how? Where are you?"
"In my room. Just… come."
Within minutes, Livia burst through the door, hair messy, satin robe half-tied.
"Are you dying?" she demanded.
Mira looked at her with wide, panicked eyes. "I'm late."
Livia blinked. "Late for what?"
"My period."
The silence stretched, slow and heavy.
"…How late?" Livia asked carefully.
"Three days."
Livia stared at her for two full seconds before whispering, "Oh shit."
Mira pressed a hand to her stomach. "Liv… what do I do?"
Livia snapped into action. "Okay. Okay. First, we take a test. Do you have one?"
Mira opened the bathroom drawer with shaking hands and pulled out a sealed box. The Serrano sisters had grown up under scrutiny; preparedness was a habit ingrained early—even for things no one wanted to think about.
Livia exhaled. "Thank God. Take it. I'll wait outside. Yell if you faint."
The two minutes felt endless.
Mira stood frozen in front of the sink, staring at the test she'd flipped face-down, her heartbeat pounding so loudly it echoed in her ears.
The timer buzzed.
"Mira?" Livia called softly.
"I'm here," Mira whispered. "Okay. I'm looking."
She turned the test over.
Two pink lines.
Her breath left her in a rush as she staggered back, hitting the wall.
Livia rushed in instantly. "What does it say?"
Mira lifted the test with trembling fingers. "Positive."
Livia inhaled sharply, then clamped both hands over her mouth. "Oh. My. God."
Mira slid down to the floor. "I don't know what to do."
Her sister dropped beside her. "Mira… this is his baby."
"Livia!"
"Mira Serrano," Livia whispered, horrified, "you're carrying Cassian Draymond's child. Dad is going to lose his mind."
Mira buried her face in her hands. "I can't think. I can't breathe."
"It's okay," Livia said quickly, rubbing her back. "We'll figure it out. We always do."
Mira lifted her head, eyes glassy. "I have to tell him, don't I?"
"Yes," Livia sighed. "Because Cassian Draymond will not appreciate being left out of this."
Mira pressed her fingers to her forehead. "Oh God."
Livia nodded gravely. "We are officially living in a telenovela."
Meanwhile, across the city.. later that same morning…
Ryan Hale stood in Cassian's office, tablet in hand, wearing the same composed expression he used for every controlled disaster.
"Sir," he said carefully, "you should see this."
Cassian didn't look up from the contract in front of him. "Unless it's on fire, it can wait."
Ryan cleared his throat. "It's… not on fire. But it is spreading."
That made Cassian look up.
Ryan turned the tablet toward him.
BREAKING NEWS:
Cassian Draymond Seen With Mira Serrano After Gala — Rival Heirs or Secret Lovers?
EXCLUSIVE:
Aide Confirms Private Dinner Reservation. What Are They Hiding?
SOCIAL MEDIA ERUPTION:
#DraymondSerrano Trending Worldwide
Cassian's jaw tightened.
Ryan swiped again.
INSIDERS CLAIM TENSION TURNED TO PASSION BETWEEN RIVAL EMPIRES.
Silence fell, sharp and dangerous.
"Sir," Ryan asked carefully, "how would you like me to proceed?"
Cassian leaned back slowly, exhaling through his nose.
"Mira didn't answer my messages this morning," he said.
Ryan nodded. "Should I locate her?"
Cassian's eyes darkened.
"No," he said quietly.
"I'll go myself ."