chapter 7

Amanda immediately rose and approached Cassian with a sweet smile as the two nannies quietly slipped out.

"Cassian, Anya still refuses to sleep. I’ve tried everything," Amanda murmured, her voice soft and deliberate.

Cassian didn't respond. His eyes swept across the room, taking in the chaos his daughter had created.

"It’s late," he said finally, his gaze settling on Amanda. "You should head home."

Amanda offered a coy smile, her eyes fixed on his face. She bit her lower lip slightly, running a hand through her hair to sweep it up and expose the pale line of her throat. "I could stay over."

It was a routine she played all too often, finding any excuse to linger at his estate while subtly testing the waters through her posture, her tone, and the way she held his gaze. Yet none of it stirred a single reaction in him. Not even a flicker.

"Don't trouble yourself," Cassian said, his voice dropping into a quiet, calm warning.

Amanda blinked, taking a quick breath before forcing another smile. "I just wanted to make sure Anya didn't throw another fit," she said, finally reaching for her purse. Before turning toward the door, she cast a brief glance back at the bed. "Good night, sweetie."

Anya merely let out a soft huff and hugged her plushie tighter.

"Amanda, starting tomorrow, you won't need to pick Anya up from school," Cassian spoke, just as she reached the doorway.

Her footsteps froze. She turned around slowly, looking as though she hadn't heard him correctly. "What do you mean, Cassian?"

"After letting Anya slip away from her school grounds, I expect you’re sharp enough to understand my point," Cassian replied flatly.

Amanda swallowed hard. "B-but... that was..." She shot a quick glance at Anya, who stared back with innocent eyes. "Then who's going to drop her off? You can't just trust anyone with her."

"You're right," Cassian answered simply, his cold gaze lingering just long enough to send a chill down her spine, a silent reminder that she was no exception.

Amanda left without another word. If not for her parents' relentless ambition, she would never have entertained replacing her late sister.

​To the public, her sister had died of a sudden illness. But her family knew the truth. She had committed suicide, spiraling into deep depression during her marriage to Cassian. To her father, a career politician hungry for absolute power, Cassian was the ultimate alliance. He was more than willing to hand over another daughter to secure that influence.

Amanda, however, was terrified. Becoming Cassian’s wife wasn't a privilege, it was stepping into a cage with a ruthless boss who spilled blood to protect his empire, ensuring no corpse would ever be found

Once Amanda was gone, Cassian walked toward the bookshelf in Anya’s room. His expression softened, though his face remained as composed as ever.

"Anya, if you don't like these books, I'll have everything in this room thrown away tomorrow," Cassian said, his voice quiet, devoid of any anger.

The little girl pouted, crossing her small arms and glaring at him. "I hate you, Daddy!"

Cassian raised an eyebrow, completely unbothered by her outburst. "You hate me?"

"Yes! You don't love me anyway!" she said.

"If you are good, perhaps I will," Cassian replied calmly.

Anya’s eyes widened in disbelief. "I won't! I'll never be good!" she screamed. "I'll break everything in this house! I'll throw all your papers away!"

"Then no school for you. And you can go live on the streets."

Anya gasped. She scrambled off the mattress, stomped her small feet on the carpet, and threw her hands up in the air. "Fine! I'm leaving! I'm leaving right now!"

She spun around, marching toward the bedroom door with all the drama a five-year-old could muster.

Cassian pinched the bridge of his nose, a rare flicker of defeat crossing his face. "Alright, fine," he muttered, letting out a soft, heavy sigh. "Come back here. I'll listen to your story."

Anya stopped walking instantly. A triumphant little smile broke across her face as she spun right back around to face him. "Promise?"

"Yes. But you need to clean up your room first."

The little girl appeared to consider the proposition seriously for a second, then nodded rapidly. But Cassian knew that promise wouldn't last more than a few seconds.

Sure enough, as he stepped into the hallway toward his master suite, the sound of small pitter-patter footsteps trailed right behind him.

Cassian paused and glanced back. "Anya?"

"I'll clean up later. I need to rest right now," she chimed in without slowing down.

The little girl darted past his legs, pushed open the cracked door of his bedroom, and slipped inside. Without hesitation, she scrambled up the edge of Cassian’s king-sized bed and threw herself onto the mattress, rolling joyfully into the warm, thick duvet.

After showering and changing into comfortable clothes, Cassian stepped out with his hair still damp, finding Anya already fast asleep in the center of his bed. Her small frame was curled up, holding an oversized pillow larger than herself. Her breathing was steady and peaceful.

He walked over quietly, pulling the duvet over her shoulders. Then he sat on the edge of the mattress, watching her in silence.

To the outside world, he was an untouchable man, feared, ruthless, and never repeating an order twice. But inside these walls, there was one thing he could never truly control. Anya.

The following morning, inside Cassian Kenneth’s imposing private office, Erol stood near Cassian's desk to present his findings on Garrett Vance.

Cassian accepted the tablet without a word, slowly scrolling through the intelligence report. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the polished wood, like a countdown clock.

"The company is bleeding cash," he murmured. Then, without looking up, he asked, "And the woman?"

Erol answered calmly, "Worked in Australia for two years before becoming Mr. Vance’s executive secretary. Clean legal record. Financial history shows high-end consumer spending and luxury debt."

A faint smirk touched Cassian’s lips, a look far closer to a predator identifying a weakness in its prey.

With a fluid motion, he picked up his encrypted phone and dialed a number.

"Structure a shell project proposal. The joint venture offer needs to hit Asterra Land Development's desk today. And make sure Garrett Vance personally signs the execution agreement," he instructed the compliant voice on the other end.

Erol stood silently, observing his master’s cold precision.

From the receiver, a voice confirmed that if everything proceeded as planned, the initial wire transfer would clear into his account within forty-eight hours.

Ending the call, Cassian turned his attention back to Erol. "Find out which luxury jewelry boutique his mistress frequents."

"Understood, sir."

"And have them issue a private VIP Couple’s Discount Voucher directly to her account."

Erol nodded in comprehension before turning to execute the orders.

Cassian steepled his fingers beneath his chin. If that woman was dangled a temptation she couldn't resist, she would force Garrett to open his wallet. And a man like Garrett, the moment he caught the scent of easy money, wouldn't be able to resist showing it off to his mistress.

A faint, calculated smile settled on his face.

Elara had to be there to see her husband with another woman. Until she realized she had no other choice but to turn to the only hand extended to save her.

His.