Ch. 6

The clock on the wall ticked past ten. Cassian was twenty minutes late. Unusual.

Scratch that—impossible.

Three years apart or not, Cassian Draven was nothing if not punctual when his career was at stake. And this wasn’t some sparring match at the gym. This was his legal career, his name, his legacy. I leaned back in my chair, staring at the untouched file on my desk, the one marked C. Draven in my handwriting.

My fingers hovered over my phone for a beat.

I considered it. Calling him. Just to ask.

But I didn’t.

The door opened before I could change my mind.

Olivia stepped in, tablet clutched to her chest like it was a shield. Her expression was tight, unreadable, but I knew that face. She only wore it when she was annoyed. “You have a visitor,” she said. “Laura Ozier.”

That name.

Of course I’d heard it. Read it. Seen the pictures of her at Cassian’s side.

“She says it’s important,” Olivia added, her voice cool.

I gave a short nod. “Let her in.”

She hesitated.

“Olivia.”

With a sigh, she disappeared, and a few seconds later, the door opened again.

Laura Ozier stepped in.

Perfect skin. Soft curls. Understated makeup that still looked expensive. A designer coat that looked too clean for the chaos she’d been through—if she’d even been through it. She closed the door behind her, her eyes never leaving mine.

We stared.

For one long, taut second, we simply existed in the silence between us.

Then I blinked, straightened, and gestured to the chair across from me.

“Sit.”

She did.

No thank you. No smile. Just a quiet settling into the leather like she had something to prove.

The silence stretched again. She broke it first.

“I know Cassian reached out to you.” Her voice was smooth but tight at the edges. “Made you his attorney.”

I didn’t answer right away. I watched her, calculating.

She was nervous.

Trying not to look it.

“I’m aware,” I said finally.

Laura nodded, a faint exhale escaping her lips. “Are you… okay with that?”

It wasn’t a question meant for clarification. It was a probe. A test.

A warning.

I tilted my head, letting my expression stay unreadable. “I’m not in the habit of refusing clients over past history.”

“But this isn’t just history, is it?” she asked, sharper now. “You and Cassian weren’t just exes. You were… something else. He loved you.”

I smiled, a small, cold thing. “And yet he left.”

Laura’s face flinched, just for a second. That was all I needed.

She hadn’t come here for peace.

She’d come for control.

I leaned forward, elbows on the desk, eyes locked on hers. “Let me be very clear, Ms. Ozier. I don’t want Cassian. Not now. Not again.”

Liar.

A part of me hissed it.

But I buried it.

Laura tilted her head, crossing one leg over the other. “He asked for you,” she said quietly. “When the cops...” she stopped herself.

“I’m here because I don’t like uncertainty,” she continued. “And I think it’s fair for you to know he isn’t the same. He’s changed. He’s mine now.”

I gave her a smile that could cut steel.

“You came here thinking I’d fight you for him?” I asked softly. “That I’d claw or cry or ask if he ever loved me? That I’d ask why he left?”

Silence.

“I’m not that kind of woman.”

Laura’s lips parted like she had a rebuttal, but I stood before she could speak. “This conversation is over. If Cassian wants to retain me officially, he knows how to reach me. Until then, you are not my client. And unless you’re here for something legal, I suggest you leave.”

She rose slowly, her jaw tight.

“Don’t mistake silence for weakness, Thea,” she said before walking out.

I watched her go.

And when the door shut, I let myself breathe.

I didn’t want Cassian.

I didn’t want him.

I didn’t.

But the shaking in my hands said otherwise.

*_*

The office had never felt so claustrophobic.

After Laura left, I paced my office, Cassian’s file open on the desk, his name highlighted across multiple court documents. I told myself it wasn’t personal. It wasn’t. This was about me, my reputation, my record. Mr. Langley would eat me alive if my client failed to show up and dragged the firm into a tabloid scandal in the process.

I picked up the office phone and dialed the number on file.

It rang.

Once.

Twice.

Voicemail.

I hung up and tried again. And again. And again. His name stared up at me from the file folder like a curse.

Dammit, Cassian.

Not because I missed him.

Not because I cared.

This was about my career.

Just my career.

After the fifth attempt, I shoved the phone away, grabbed the folder, and stepped into the hallway. I needed air. Or coffee. Maybe both.

As I walked past the bullpen, I caught sight of Olivia. She was hunched over a desk with three other interns, their eyes locked on something on her phone. I wouldn’t usually pay attention to gossip huddles but this time something felt… off.

Their faces weren’t amused.

They were stunned.

Alarmed.

Before I could say a word, Olivia looked up, and when she saw me, she bolted upright.

“I swear I wasn’t slacking off,” she said, rushing toward me, phone in hand. “I was just—this is—God, I didn’t know how to bring it up.”

“What is it?” I asked, brows pulling together.

She didn’t speak. Just handed me her phone and hit play.

The screen came alive with grainy vertical footage. Someone had recorded it from a neighboring building. The angle was shaky, but clear enough.

Cassian.

He was being dragged out of his building, hands cuffed behind his back, surrounded by two officers and a shouting woman—Laura. Her voice cracked as she tried to explain something, but the clip focused on him.

Cassian Draven.

Famous. Powerful. Blood on his cheek and fury in his eyes.

In cuffs.

The moment I saw it, something cold clenched in my chest.

I handed the phone back wordlessly and turned back toward my office.

Laura had been here. Laura had sat in my chair, acting collected, cold, and protective.

She never said a word.

Not a single word.

Her boyfriend had been arrested.

She had watched him get shoved into the back of a squad car,  and she still walked into my office like it was just another morning.

What the hell was going on?

I reached for my phone again—this time, not as a lawyer. Not as a professional.

But as the only person who knew what Cassian sounded like when he was desperate.

And I had a feeling he’d be needing someone soon.