All Chapters of Step Brother's Deadly Obsession : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Naomi’s Pov; Morning came late. The sky over the city was a muted gray, heavy with rain that hadn’t yet fallen. The safe house was quiet except for the low hum of generators and the clatter of distant dishes. After the explosion, Cassian had ordered a lockdown. No one entered. No one left. I hadn’t seen him since last night. The last thing he’d said was “Get some rest, Naomi.” But rest was impossible. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the blast. The heat, the sound, the way his voice had gone silent right before it hit. Now, sitting by the narrow window, I watched the street below blur in the fog. Somewhere, life went on as if nothing had burned. The door opened quietly behind me. I didn’t turn. His presence filled the room before he spoke, steady, contained, dangerous in the way calm men are after chaos. “You didn’t sleep.” I looked over my shoulder. Cassian stood in the doorway, sleeves rolled up, shirt half-unbuttoned, a faint bruise on his jaw. His hair was damp, like

Naomi’s Pov; The wind howled against the factory walls that night, rattling loose panes of glass like the ghosts of the place were whispering through them. Sleep wouldn’t come. Every sound set my nerves on edge, the hum of the power lines, the drip of condensation through the pipes. I couldn’t stop thinking about the transmitter Rubio mentioned. If someone had been leaking data for months, it meant the Syndicate had been watching long before the explosion. Maybe even before Cassian saved me. That thought rooted too deep to ignore. So I slipped out of bed, laced my boots, and followed the hum beneath the floor. The air in the tunnels was colder, metallic. Each step echoed off concrete and iron, my flashlight slicing through dust and cobwebs. The deeper I went, the stronger the vibration became a faint, rhythmic pulse. And then I saw it. Half-buried in a crack near an old support beam was a small, black device no larger than my palm. It pulsed faintly, a single red light blinki

Naomi’s Pov; I didn’t see Cassian for hours after he left the storage wing. The base stayed tense all morning, people moving fast but quietly, as if everyone knew something had gone wrong but nobody dared ask. Mara avoided my eyes. Rubio kept to the comms. Even the guards outside my door looked uneasy. When the silence stretched too long, I went looking for him. I found him in one of the old side rooms near the generator hall. The door was half-open. Inside, Cassian stood with his back to me, one hand gripping the edge of a table. A single lamp burned on the desk, throwing his shadow long across the floor. “Cassian,” I said softly. He didn’t move at first. Then he turned, and I saw something in his face I hadn’t before, not anger, not even the usual calm control. It was something closer to hurt. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said. His voice was rough, tired. “You said that before,” I answered. “You keep saying it, but you never send me away.” He looked at me for a moment,

Naomi’s Pov; The ride back to the base was quiet. Cassian didn’t say a word the whole drive. He kept his eyes on the road, jaw tight, fingers tapping once against the steering wheel every few minutes. I didn’t ask questions. Not yet. The world outside passed in shades of gray and gold, the sun trying to break through the clouds but never quite making it. It felt like us, light always trying to reach something it couldn’t. When we pulled into the northern base, Mara and Rubio were already waiting by the gates. One look at Cassian’s face and they didn’t say a thing. He got out first, gave Rubio a short nod. “Keep the perimeter tight. No one comes in or out until I say.” Rubio just said, “Got it.” Then Cassian walked inside without another word. Mara turned to me. “How bad was it?” I looked toward the door he disappeared through. “Bad enough that he’s pretending it wasn’t.” Mara sighed. “Then it’s worse than I thought.” She went after him, leaving me standing there

Naomi’s Pov; We were supposed to be invisible. That was the rule. No noise. No mistakes. No emotions. Cassian repeated those words before we left the compound, his tone flat and professional. But the way he looked at me when he said them steady, searching told me he was really reminding himself. The job was simple: a recon drop. Find the contact, trade information, leave unseen. It should’ve been simple. But nothing ever stayed that way with us. The warehouse sat at the edge of the docks, a stretch of rusted metal and salt air. The night was thick with fog, waves slapping against the concrete. Somewhere far off, a ship horn sounded, a long, lonely cry. We moved together, silent, side by side. Cassian was all focus, scanning corners, eyes sharp. I stayed behind him, covering angles just like he’d taught me. When he stopped suddenly, I froze too. “Movement,” he whispered. I saw it then, a shadow slipping through the crates. Cassian’s hand came up, fingers brushing my arm