Novel & Cerita Booktok Cassian

Cassie asks. They go over to the bookcases, and they all started looking for books that could have something on the relic but there was just a slight mention of it or a paragraph. But no pictures or anything that matches anything in the publications. Cassie goes back over to the bookcase and notices a book up high. She grabs the ladder and goes up it to get the book. "Cassie Be careful, you could fall." Nathan said going over to her helping her down. "Let me look in this book," Cassie said.

Still appeared to have secrets between its walls. The guard let us in. And there he was. Cassian. Standing on the grand steps like some cursed prince in a modern gothic novel. All black suit, sharp angles, and indifference. “Morning, ladies,” he said, voice cool but crisp. Selena raised her hand. “Morning, murder-face.” I elbowed her. “Behave, Sel,” I whispered. “What,” she said. “He would be a really hot killer.” Cassian’s gaze flicked to me. “We’ll begin walkthrough revisions in an hour. But first…”

I run my fingers over the cover, the glossy material shining in the chandelier light. “Bionics?” I look up at him, quirking a brow. “For Cassian.” He shrugs, picking up the book and turning it over in his hands. “He’s on one recently.” “What do you mean?” I ask with a laugh. I hop up and sit on the edge of the table, swinging my legs. “What does on one mean?”

Unless he proved to her that she was more than simply a player. He walked to the shelves and picked a book out. It was one of the ones he had been reading. He opened it and took his seat, begining to read. In the middle of that, he heard footsteps approaching the door. His spine straightened as he sat up, eyes on the door to see who it was. Lucian walked into the room, his hands balled into fists and eyes burning with rage. Cassian stood up from the chair because he knew his brother was angry, “What's wrong?" He asked.

"I look forward to seeing yours, Val." He stood, tucked his book under his arm, and walked away between the shelves without another word. The moment he was gone I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. All the while he was with us, he had this oppressive air about him that made me uncomfortable. "He was sniffing me," I said quietly. "I know," Cassian said. His voice was flat and hard. "Does he know?" "Not yet." He stood. "Come on. We're leaving."

The Carver estate felt heavier than usual, each corridor echoing her uncertainty. Cassian met her in the foyer, his expression a mask of calm, but the tension in his jaw betrayed the storm beneath. “Sit,” he said, gesturing to the chairs in the sitting room. Liana obeyed, wringing her hands in her lap. “I didn’t—he didn’t—” “He did,” Cassian said flatly. “And you let him. Again.” Her heart sank. “I wanted to see if he could actually be… useful. He has the capital, the connections—”

CHAPTER 24 Cassandra sat at her desk, her fingers flipping through a stack of files, her focus fixed on a chilling case: the death of Michael Foster. The more she read, the clearer the connection became between the case and Antonio Franches, her contract husband. Her brow furrowed as she jotted down key points, trying to piece together how Foster’s mysterious death might tie into Antonio’s vast empire. The air around her felt heavy, charged with both curiosity and unease.

[ CASSANDRA ] After this statement of ANTOINE, I got angry. I then looked at him strangely and I said : -- Who are you to give me orders? I am not under your responsibility. You are not my family and I am not your prisoner. I'll go away and you won't be able to stop me. Afterwards, I wanted to slap him when Inès stopped me. -- ANTOINE and Cassandra please calm down. You're not going to fight because we're family now. (She says)

"You smell so incredibly good." Twenty minutes later, the steam from the hot shower had completely cleared. I stepped out wearing nothing but my underwear and Cassian’s oversized shirt. The hem hung loosely off my frame, brushing against my bare thighs, while the sleeves completely swallowed my hands. Driven by a desperate, romantic need to be anchored by his presence, I walked straight down the quiet corridor and pushed open the heavy oak doors of his study, completely forgetting to knock. Cassian was seated behind a massive mahogany desk, illuminated only by the soft gold glow of a brass lamp. He was deeply engrossed in a leather-bound book. He didn't even lift his gaze from the pages, yet

I slid a thick book onto a high shelf, letting out a soft sigh. Suddenly, the air in the room changed. The temperature dropped fast, and the heavy scent of wood-smoke and ozone filled the narrow aisle. It was an angry, heavy scent that made my instincts scream. I turned around quickly, but I was already trapped. Cassian was standing at the end of the aisle. His golden eyes were bright and furious in the dark. He didn't say a word. He just walked toward me with long, predatory steps. His body was tense, and his jaw was clenched tight.