Semua Bab Crave Me,Kill Me: Bab 101 - Bab 110

The apartment was too quiet for how much had changed.Aria sat on the edge of the bed, still half-dressed from the summit, her coat folded across her lap like it belonged to another version of her a version that hadn’t offered her pain as policy and let the world take it.Cassian stood in the doorway.Watching her.Not waiting for permission.Just trying to read the silence.“Did you mean it?” he asked finally.She didn’t look up. “Mean what?”He stepped inside. “That you wouldn’t lead unless they accepted the rawest parts of you. The mess. The ache. The history.”Aria breathed in slow. “Yes.”Cassian nodded once. “Then you need to do it here too.”That made her glance up.Eyes narrowing.“Do what here?”He came closer. “Stop hiding the pieces of yourself from me you think I won’t survive.”Aria froze.Not at his closeness.At his clarity.“I’m not hiding.”“You are,” he said gently. “You don’t show me the fear. Not when it’s quiet. Not when it’s just us. You carry the storm outside,

Vale Tower’s atrium dawn gilded glass and steel had become the epicenter of a rising reckoning. Inside, delegates and officials clustered near the central dais, where once the gentle glow of the Council’s seal had presided. Now, the seal was dimmed, the dais empty an unspoken symbol that the old order had fractured.Aria and Cassian stepped into the hall together. Aria’s coat was still damp from the previous day’s conflict, the fabric clinging around her like a banner stolen from the old guard. Cassian’s suit bore the faintest scrape across the lapela physical smear of their recent stand.Around them, dozens of chairs stood arranged in a strict semicircle. Hidden cameras peered down from every angle. Voicessome deferential, others steelyfilled the air with anxious deliberations.At their entrance, the room’s hush deepened. This was the moment. The moment the Council had called for and feared most.A tall woman, Councilor Mirek, stepped forwardher silk robes a muted gray. Her hand trem

The ballroom used to belong to the Council.Marble floors polished like silence, gold trims that once signaled power without consent. Now, the same space was lit in deep crimsons, sultry platinums, and rich, unfiltered tones. Not designed for perfection.Designed for feeling.It wasn’t a gala.It wasn’t even an official gathering.It was a public demand: an evening to mark the fall of emotional suppression.Nova called it a “Reckoning Ball.”Not a celebration of governance But of survival.Aria stood at the top of the mezzanine, watching the crowd shift like tide below her. People didn’t move in lines or practiced smiles. They laughed too loud, cried into strangers’ shoulders, touched freely not with seduction, but with permission.Cassian stepped beside her, dressed in sharp black, no tie. His cuff links gleamed like teeth. He didn’t offer his arm.He waited.Aria inhaled.“I shouldn’t be nervous.”“You’re allowed,” he said. “You dismantled an empire. You just didn’t expect them to

It began with a name on a folded letter.Not encrypted.Not archived.Just handwritten.Left at Cassian’s desk, in the safehouse’s lower study.No signature.Just two words on the front:“For Him.”Aria found it first.She didn’t open it.She didn’t need to.She stood holding it in the early morning hush, light slanting through the tall windows, her body wrapped in one of Cassian’s black shirts, bare legs folded beneath her like a question she still wasn’t sure how to ask.Cassian entered without a sound, his breath slowing the moment he saw her expression.She handed him the letter.He hesitated.Then unfolded the paper in one long motion.Aria watched his face tighten.Not in anger.In recognition.The words were brief. Sharp. Precise exactly how his father used to speak.And at the bottom?A line Cassian hadn’t read in over two decades:“There’s one part of the empire I never told you about. It bears your name.”Cassian sat slowly on the edge of the desk.“Who left it?” he asked.A

They didn’t go back to the city.Not yet.Cassian drove them north no security detail, no decoy routes. Just an old black coupe with weather-worn seats and a silence between them that didn’t feel empty anymore.It felt earned.Aria curled against the passenger door, bare feet propped on the dash, her hair loose and wind-wild. Cassian drove one-handed, his other arm draped across the wheel like the road had always belonged to him but the future finally didn’t.They didn’t speak until the city lights disappeared behind trees and sky.“When was the last time we did this?” she asked, her voice soft.He glanced over. “Drove in silence?”She nodded. “No protocols. No watchers. Just…” she exhaled, “us.”Cassian thought for a moment. “There was never a before. Only… this. And then everything else.”She smiled faintly. “I like that.”They reached the estate an hour before dusk.Not the safehouse.Not Vale Corp.Just a quiet old villa Cassian hadn’t stepped foot in since the first year of Eden’