Cassian's phone vibrated just as he stepped out of his room.
He answered without slowing his stride.
"Brother," Mason's voice came through, casual but alert. "Are you ready to go?"
"I'll come with my father," Cassian replied evenly. "You go ahead to Elyndria. I'll meet you there."
A pause.
"So I'm being sent alone."
"You're capable enough to gi."
"That wasn't my concern besides juri is with me."
"It should be."
Mason exhaled through the line. "Fine. Don't be late."
"I won't."
The call ended.
Cassian slipped the phone into his pocket and headed downstairs.
The scent of fresh bread and brewed tea lingered in the air. The house felt warmer than usual in the early light—less formal, almost gentle.
Marina stood by the table, dismissing the staff with a wave of her hand. She preferred to serve him herself on mornings like this.
She noticed him immediately.
"There you are."
She crossed the room and pulled him into an embrace before he could protest. It was brief—but firm.
"You're looking stunning today," she said, leaning back to inspect him.
"Morning Mother."
" my son come sit ."
Cassian allowed the faintest curve at the corner of his mouth before taking his seat.
Marina began placing food on his plate without asking. "When you go with your dad," she said lightly, pouring tea into his cup, "don't fight with him."
Cassian reached for his fork. "I don't fight."
"You argue." she sighed.
"He insists."
She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "You know your dad. He is a nagging person. So be patient with him."
From the staircase came a dry response.
"I can hear you."
Ristof Drakov descended with measured steps, fastening his cufflinks as he spoke.
"And I have never nagged," he continued, taking his seat at the head of the table. "I merely suggested he inherit my entire business so I can retire and accompany you all the time."
Marina giggled.
Cassian didn't look up. "That wasn't a suggestion."
"It was strategic planning against your son."
"It was a declaration that sooner or later will come into reality."
"It was generous thank you dad."
Marina covered her smile with her hand.
Ristof picked up his cup. "A man builds an empire for decades. Naturally, he expects his son to take responsibility."
Cassian sliced into his breakfast with calm precision. "Naturally."
"And I would finally be free," Ristof added, glancing at Marina. "To rest. Travel. Enjoy life."
"You mean supervise from a distance," Cassian replied.
"I would never."
Marina laughed again. "Both of you. Eat before the food gets cold."
A quiet settled over the table—not tense, just familiar.
Ristof muttered once more, "I truly do not nag."
Cassian finally looked up at him.
"I'm aware," he said smoothly. "You just lecture."
Marina burst into laughter.
Ristof shook his head but didn't argue further.
Breakfast continued in steady rhythm—measured words, restrained expressions, affection hidden beneath structure.
After breakfast, the warmth of the dining table faded back into the usual order of the house.
"Cassian," Ristof called calmly, already turning toward the west wing. "My study."
Cassian followed without question.
The study smelled faintly of leather and old paper. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined the walls, and the large mahogany desk was already covered in organized files. A digital screen glowed softly at the far end of the room.
Ristof closed the door behind them.
"I wanted you to see this before we leave."
He tapped the screen. Financial projections, partnership charts, supply routes, and corporate branches unfolded in precise layers.
"At our operations in Elyndria," Ristof said. "Updated as of this week."
Cassian stepped closer, scanning rapidly. Casino revenues. Luxury bars. Shipping networks. Private investment channels. Subtle stakes in technology firms. Quiet leverage over infrastructure contracts.
He read in silence for several minutes.
Then he said, thoughtfully, "Father… if we slowly start acquiring their technology—bit by bit, through indirect partnerships—it would strengthen us significantly. We wouldn't need to act openly. Just gradual absorption."
Ristof folded his arms.
"We can't."
Cassian glanced at him.
"Our relationship with the royal family is stable," Ristof continued. "Long-term. Many members of the royal household are our clients. Our casinos, our bars, our hospitality chains—those connections are valuable."
He walked around the desk.
"If we attempt to 'snatch' their technology, even subtly, it shifts the balance. Suspicion ruins influence."
Cassian considered that.
"Even if it succeeds?"
"It's unnecessary." Ristof's voice was firm but not harsh. "Elyndria's economy may not be massive compared to ours, but strategically…" He tapped the financial chart. "Right now, significant sectors of it depend on our investments. Quietly. That's enough."
Cassian studied the projections again.
Even without control of their technology, their position was strong. Stable. Profitable.
He gave a small hum of acknowledgment.
"…Alright."
Ristof watched him carefully, gauging his reaction.
"You think aggressively," he said after a moment. "That's not a flaw. But power is not always about taking more. Sometimes it's about holding what you already control."
Cassian nodded once.
"I understand."
A brief silence passed—professional, not emotional.
Then Ristof glanced at his watch.
"Be ready at five o'clock this evening," he said. "We depart at 5:00 PM sharp."
"I will."
Cassian turned toward the door.
"Cassian."
He paused.
Ristof's tone softened, only slightly. "This trip isn't just business. Remember that."
Cassian met his father's gaze.
"I know."
And then he left the study, already calculating the future in his mind.
____
somewhere in the elyndria nael is fighting with his second brother to have one more pastry and laughing with his brothers and leo without knowing something big is about to happen to him in the near future which will change his whole life completely.