All Chapters of The Devil In A Suit: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Third POVThe black maybach tore through the streets, slicing through traffic while Cassiel sat in the backseat, shoulders taut, his breathing controlled but sharp. The scent of blood filled his nostrils — blood from the mole.The scent of iron and sweat clung to his skin, soaked into the dark fabric of his ruined shirt. He exhaled through his nose, stripping it off in one fluid motion, revealing the taut muscle underneath. His body bore old scars and fresh reminders of the life he lived.The mole had cracked.Cassiel had heard his voice break, felt his bones shatter beneath his hands. And yet, there had been no relief, no satisfaction—only the lingering knowledge that the real enemy was still out there.And right now, Julian was their target.He pulled on a clean black shirt, rolling his stiff shoulders.“Faster,” he ordered.Enzo didn’t reply, but the engine growled louder, responding to the command in his voice.Cassiel’s phone vibrated with a caller ID from the hospital.He answe

Third POVCassiel leaned back slightly, his steel-gray eyes locked onto Julian’s. He didn’t speak right away. Instead, he let the weight of Julian’s demand settle between them like an unspoken challenge.Tell me everything.Julian’s grip on the sheets was tight, his knuckles white. He was still weak, his body recovering from the poison, but his mind was sharp—too sharp.Cassiel knew he wouldn’t let this go.A slow exhale.“Valerian Cross,” Cassiel finally said, his voice low, deliberate. “You know the name. Tell me why.”Julian’s jaw tensed. “No. You first.”Cassiel’s lips curved, but the smile was anything but amused. “You’re in no position to make demands, Julian.”Julian didn’t flinch. “I was nearly murdered in this hospital bed. I think I deserve to know why.”Cassiel studied him. Then, with an exasperated sigh, he sat back down beside the bed.“Valerian isn’t just an enemy,” Cassiel said. “He’s a problem I thought I solved years ago.” His fingers tapped against his thigh. “I was

Third POVThe warehouse stood on the edge of the city, abandoned long ago, its walls lined with rust and forgotten sins. Faint moonlight slipped through the broken ceiling, casting jagged shadows against the cold concrete floor.Inside, two figures faced each other—one seated at a rusted steel table, fingers idly tapping the surface, the other standing in the dim light, their face obscured by the shadows.The air was thick, humming with something unspoken.The seated figure—the mastermind—tilted their head slightly, amusement curling at their lips.“Punctual. I like that.”The standing figure didn’t respond immediately. Their silence wasn’t uncertainty—it was calculation.“You said you had a plan.”A slow chuckle. “Not just a plan. A guarantee.”The standing figure exhaled. “And what guarantee would that be?”A name fell between them like a blade.“Julian Dantes.”The standing figure’s posture remained rigid, unreadable.“You want him gone.”The seated figure’s lips parted in a sharp,

Third POVThe drive back to Cassiel’s penthouse was suffocating.Julian sat in the back of the black Bentley, his fingers digging into the leather seat as the city blurred past in streaks of gold and steel. The sterile hospital scent still clung to him, an unpleasant reminder of how close he had come to dying. His body was weak, his stomach twisted with a residual nausea from the poisoning, but it was nothing compared to the unease settling in his chest.Cassiel sat beside him, silent, his profile sharp against the low glow of the dashboard light in front. His phone was in his hand, his thumb moving efficiently over the screen, issuing commands with the kind of ease that made Julian’s skin crawl.It wasn’t just that Cassiel controlled everything around him—it was the fact that he expected obedience in return.Julian shifted, inhaling slowly. The silence was unbearable.“You don’t have to act like I’m on my deathbed.”Cassiel didn’t look up. “A dead man doesn’t need to be reminded to s

Third POVBack in the study, Cassiel sat behind his desk, elbows resting on the dark mahogany surface, fingers steepled as he stared at the glowing cityscape beyond the window. The late-night hush of the study was disrupted only by the faint hum of Enzo’s measured breathing from across the room.Enzo stood near the bookshelves, arms crossed, his sharp gaze assessing Cassiel’s expression. “You’re trying to figure it out?”Cassiel exhaled slowly, lowering his hands. “Of course, I am.” His voice was quiet, but the weight behind it was unmistakable. “Valerian took Julian from the hospital. And then — just like that — he was returned.” He tapped his fingers against the desk, eyes narrowing. “I don’t like games, Enzo. Especially when I’m not the one controlling the board.”Enzo scoffed, stepping forward. “The whole thing was too clean. It was like he wanted you to find him. They made sure of it and now he’s radio silent.”Cassiel didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his gaze flicked toward