Nobela ni Allison zee

Cassian wasn’t a morning person, but today, he was radiant.Clad in his plush white robe, a silk sash tied carelessly around his waist, he lounged on the terrace of the penthouse with a steaming cup of espresso. The city shimmered below, unbothered by his stunts or scandals. For once, so was he.His phone buzzed on the table beside him.“Taryn,” he greeted, taking a slow sip.“You’re awake early. That’s new,” she said with a dry tone.“I’m reborn, remember?” he replied, smirking.“Well, your rebirth has sent half the board into panic mode,” she said. “I’ve already gotten three calls and a very passive-aggressive email from PR.”“I’m impressed. Usually, it takes at least two press scandals to get them that riled.”“You want me to send Julian an invite too?”Cassian hesitated just for a second then smiled like a knife.“Absolutely. Front row. Let him stew in the irony.”“Got it. And what exactly are you wearing to this... gala of redemption?”“White velvet. Custom. I want the photograph

Cassian stared at his reflection in the mirror. The press conference room was buzzing behind the closed doors, reporters gathering like vultures outside. His hair was styled, his black suit tailored to perfection but beneath the polished surface, his pulse beat wildly.“You’ve got this,” Rowan said from the doorway, arms crossed, dressed in his usual all-black security fit. “Remember, don’t confess. Just shift the story.”Cassian smirked. “What, like I’m some misunderstood celebrity with a redemption arc?”Rowan gave a small nod. “Exactly.”Cassian took a breath, squared his shoulders, and stepped onto the stage.The lights hit him like a punch cameras clicked, flashes popped, and a low murmur ran through the crowd.He adjusted the mic. “Good afternoon. I know most of you are here for answers. So let’s start with the obvious.”He paused just long enough to let the tension simmer.“The video that circulated earlier this week, showing an encounter between me and Julian Ward, has sparked

Cassian sat cross-legged on the penthouse floor, the glow of his laptop illuminating his face in flickers. Every headline was a fresh wound.“Wesley Heir in Scandalous Encounter at Gala”“Cassian Wesley’s Hallway Hookup Goes Viral”“Family Empire Threatened by Son’s Exploits”He hated them. Not because they were inaccurate but because they weren’t. They were exactly who he had been. Until now.Rowan hovered silently nearby, arms folded as he watched the screen with hawk-like focus. He’d been unusually quiet since the gala. Not cold just observant. And Cassian could feel it. The shift.“Julian wanted this,” Rowan said, breaking the silence. “He didn’t just want you. He wanted the exposure. The leverage.”Cassian leaned back against the couch, eyes glazed. “And he got it. My father’s furious. The board is baying for my head, and I’ve had three PR reps quit in twenty-four hours.”Rowan’s jaw tensed. “Then we hit back.”Cassian raised an eyebrow. “We?”“You’re not in this alone. Not anymo

The next morning, the sunlight didn’t feel warm. It felt like an interrogation light.Cassian stared at the ceiling, jaw clenched, trying to ignore the soft hush of Rowan’s footsteps in the other room. The quiet had become a strange comfort, but now it grated against the echo in his chest. Something had shifted since Rowan sat in that chair last night. Since he said, "I'll stay."It wasn’t just about safety anymore. That was terrifying.He sat up, running a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. Rowan wasn’t stationed at the door this time. He was standing at the island in the kitchen, two mugs of coffee in front of him like a peace offering. Cassian padded over, tension coiled in his shoulders.Rowan slid one mug forward without looking up. "You slept.""So did you. That’s new."Rowan grunted. It wasn’t a denial.Cassian took a sip, watching him. "You always this domestic after a near kiss?"Rowan shot him a look. Cassian grinned."It was a joke. Kind of.""Don’t push it, Cass."Cassian

Cassian wasn’t sure what woke him the sharp blade of sunlight cutting through the penthouse curtains or the dull ache pounding behind his eyes. Either way, morning didn’t feel like a beginning.It felt like punishment.The sheets tangled around his legs like restraints. His mouth was dry, his chest heavy. The pillow beneath his head was cool, but not in a comforting way. It was the chill of solitude.The images from last night returned in pieces, like shards of broken glass he had to crawl across: the flashing cameras, the alcohol, Julian’s hand on his arm, Rowan’s voice like thunder. That touch Rowan’s thumb brushing along his jaw it lingered far longer than it should have.Cassian rolled onto his side, trying to push it all down. But something had shifted. And ignoring it only made it worse.He eventually forced himself out of bed, padding into the kitchen barefoot. He expected the usual quiet, maybe a note left on the counter. What he didn’t expect was Rowan, standing by the floor-

Cassian hated suits.Not because they didn’t look good on him he could turn heads in a garbage bag. He hated them because they symbolized everything his father loved: control, conformity, image. Tonight’s charity gala was just another attempt to show the world that Cassian, scandalous heir to a billion-dollar empire, could be “tamed.”“Black velvet or silver silk?” he asked aloud, rifling through his wardrobe with mild disdain.Behind him, Rowan stood like a shadow. “Something that says you’re not a walking disaster.”Cassian smirked, pulling out the black velvet blazer. “So nothing I own. Got it.”He stripped off his shirt, making no effort to hide the motion. Rowan didn’t react. At least not outwardly. Cassian liked testing him. There was something addictive about poking at the seams of Rowan’s restraint.“You always this grumpy before a party?” Cassian teased, slipping the blazer over his bare chest. “You clean up nicely, though. Very Men in Black.”Rowan, in his tailored black sui