Cassidy’s POVThe rest of the afternoon fractured into strategy.Not panic.Not chaos.Something sharper.Controlled violence wearing expensive clothes and speaking in measured tones.Adrian Kessler was taken downstairs to a secure holding room two floors beneath legal, where Reynolds’ people could keep him contained until Dante decided whether he was more useful breathing comfortably or sweating. Lucas’s note was photographed, bagged, analyzed, and then returned to Dante’s inside pocket like it belonged there—like the threat itself had become part of the architecture of his body.The studio sat between us all now.A location.A trap.A wound.A promise.By five o’clock, the executive floor had emptied enough to feel haunted. The storm outside had deepened into something darker, rain striking the windows with a steady, punishing rhythm that blurred the city into ghost-light and steel. The building no longer felt like a headquarters.It felt like a command center.Mia had relocated to
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