Five years had passed...
They moved like a negotiation Cassian never agreed to but somehow still won.
Cassian Draymond returned to his routine the way men returned to battlefields. Familiar. Cold. Efficient. He stopped waiting for things to make sense and focused instead on making them obey.
Work became his language.
Executives feared his silence more than his anger. He corrected mistakes without raising his voice, dismantled arguments without lifting a finger, and dismissed incompetence with a single look. People learned quickly. Those who didn't were replaced.
His name climbed quietly.
Then loudly.
Then permanently.
By the time the media started attaching numbers to his net worth, Cassian had already stopped paying attention. Wealth was never the goal. Control was.
