After a few minutes, Ryan called back.
"Sir, I called her, but…"
"What did she say? Speak clearly!" Cassian's voice was sharp, eyes blazing with restrained fury.
"She… she said she doesn't want to see you," Ryan blurted out in one breath.
Cassian's chest constricted, as if the air itself had thickened.
"She insists that you stop looking for her. She doesn't want you anywhere near her again."
"Oh, she's playing games now," he muttered, his voice low, edged with ice. Yet beneath the fury, a fragile pulse of hurt throbbed. He pressed his jaw tight, forcing his features into steel. "It's far from over."
He ended the call and began pacing through his office, every step heavy with pent-up questions and unspent frustration. Every thought of her with another man, every imagined moment of her laughter in someone else's arms, coiled tightly in his chest. But despair wasn't an option. Not yet. He thrived on control, on strategy. And he would have answers.
