The Baby Clause
The one who shattered my control and walked out like it hadn’t meant a goddamn thing.
I scrubbed the clip back, zeroed in on the still frame. Froze it. Zoomed in until the pixels blurred.
But even through the grain, I could see it, that defiance, raw and unfiltered.
That mouth. The one that spit fire and tasted like trouble. That mouth that told me, I don’t care what you want.
My chest clenched. Not with emotion. With focus.
The comm panel on my desk beeped.
Cassian stepped in, smooth as always, dressed in obsidian. He carried a folder in one hand and the quiet certainty of a man who never came empty-handed.