Mira stayed seated long after the television was switched off and the house returned to silence. Aunt Mayla moved quietly around the kitchen, giving her space without asking questions, as though she understood that some moments were too fragile to touch. The press conference had ended barely an hour ago, yet the weight of it lingered, pressing against her chest in a way that made breathing feel deliberate.
One week.
Cassian hadn't mentioned that part before leaving. She wondered if he had decided it in the moment, standing in front of cameras and questions sharp enough to cut reputations apart. Or maybe he had always known that dragging it out would only invite more speculation. Cassian Draymond never did things halfway. If he moved, he moved decisively.
Her fingers rested unconsciously against her stomach. The truth sat there quietly, unseen and unacknowledged by everyone else, yet it dictated every choice she made. She wondered how long she would be able to keep it that way. How long before the world demanded more answers than Cassian's silence could provide.
The sound of the front door opening pulled her from her thoughts.
Cassian stepped inside without ceremony, jacket in his hand, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He looked composed, but there was a tension about him that hadn't been there before, something heavier beneath the controlled calm. He had come straight from the press conference. He didn't speak immediately. He simply looked at her, as though confirming that she was still standing.
"It's done," he said at last.
Mira nodded slowly. "I saw."
"They've stopped asking questions," he added. "For now."
"For now," she echoed.
He walked further into the room, setting his jacket aside. "Your father called."
Her shoulders stiffened almost imperceptibly. "What does he want?"
"A meeting," Cassian replied. "With both of us."
Mira exhaled quietly. She had known this was coming. Her father would never allow something like this to happen without asserting control, even if it was only for appearances. "When?"
"Tonight."
[Later That Evening — The Serrano Estate]
The Serrano estate looked exactly the same as it always had—cold marble, sharp lines, everything curated to project power rather than comfort. Mira hadn't stepped inside these walls since the night she was told to leave, yet nothing here suggested she had ever been missed.
Regis Serrano sat at the head of the long table, posture rigid, expression severe. His eyes flicked to Mira only briefly before settling on Cassian, sharp and assessing.
"You made an announcement without consulting us," Regis said flatly.
"The situation required immediate clarity," Cassian replied, his tone even, respectful without submission.
Regis let out a humorless laugh. "Clarity? Or control?"
Cassian met his gaze steadily. "Your daughter was being dragged through public speculation. I put an end to it."
Regis' jaw tightened. "By attaching her permanently to my greatest rival?"
Mira remained silent, her hands folded neatly in her lap. She knew better than to interrupt. This wasn't about her feelings. It never had been.
"You announced a wedding in one week," Regis continued. "Do you have any idea what that implies?"
"That the rumors stop," Cassian answered. "And your family's name remains intact."
Regis leaned back in his chair, studying him with narrowed eyes. "You think this benefits us equally."
"I think it benefits Mira," Cassian said calmly.
That earned him Regis' full attention. "You don't get to speak for my daughter."
Mira finally looked up. "He already has," she said quietly. "When you refused to."
The room fell silent.
Regis stared at her, something unreadable flickering across his face before it hardened again. "This marriage happens," he said coldly, "because it serves a purpose. Once that purpose is fulfilled, what happens between you is irrelevant to me."
Mira felt the words land like a dull ache, familiar but no less painful. She nodded once, masking the sting with practiced composure. "I understand."
"As long as the scandal ends, I don't care what it costs," Regis continued. "My reputation comes first."
Cassian didn't respond. He didn't need to. The meeting ended without raised voices or reconciliation, just a quiet confirmation that Mira had already been let go.
[The Next Day — Cassian's Office]
Back at Cassian's office, the reality of the announcement settled in fast. Ryan moved with controlled urgency, fielding calls, coordinating schedules, flipping through plans at a pace that suggested he'd already accepted the impossible timeline.
"One week is barely enough," Ryan muttered. "But I'll make it happen."
"Keep it minimal," Cassian instructed. "No unnecessary exposure."
Ryan glanced toward Mira, who stood near the window, watching the city lights flicker on. "Her preferences?"
Cassian didn't hesitate. "Whatever she wants."
Mira turned slightly, surprised by that. She hadn't expected it, not from a man who had just taken control of her entire public future.
[Days Later]
The days that followed blurred together in a strange rhythm. Designers came and went. Appointments were scheduled and rescheduled. Mira chose simplicity wherever she could, refusing grandeur, refusing excess. Cassian stayed close but never intrusive, always present, never demanding more than she was willing to give.
At night, when the world quieted, the weight returned. Mira lay awake in unfamiliar rooms, listening to silence, wondering how something that started as a mistake had become this irreversible.
One evening, as Cassian reviewed documents at his desk, his phone rang. The name on the screen shifted the air instantly.
Adrian Serrano.
He answered without hesitation.
"So," Adrian's voice came through smooth and controlled, "congratulations."
"Thank you."
"A week," Adrian continued. "That's ambitious."
"It was necessary."
"Or strategic," Adrian countered. "Tell me, Draymond—are you marrying my sister to protect her… or to corner us?"
Cassian's expression didn't change. "She isn't a pawn."
A brief pause. Then Adrian spoke again, quieter this time. "If she is, I won't wait to find out."
"I'm not afraid of you," Cassian replied evenly.
"I know," Adrian said. "That's why I called."
The line went dead.
Cassian lowered the phone slowly. Mira had heard enough to understand.
"My brother," she said.
"He doesn't trust me."
She gave a faint smile. "Neither does my father."
Cassian looked at her then, really looked at her. "Do you trust me?"
Mira didn't answer immediately. "I trust what you're doing," she said finally. "I don't know if I trust why."
"That's fair," he replied.
They stood there in silence, the unspoken truths hanging between them. Obligation. Responsibility. Fear. Something unnamed and dangerous beneath it all.
"One week," Mira whispered.
Cassian nodded. "I won't let anyone hurt you."
She met his gaze. "That's not the same as loving someone."
"I know."
And in that quiet space, something fragile settled between them. Not love. Not yet. But something neither of them could step away from now.
Something that would change everything.