Chapter 368
Third Person’s POV
In the corner, Georgia, George, and Angela kept their heads down, hugging the walls as they tried to make a break for it.
Even as she was being dragged away, Samantha continued to shriek curses at everyone in the room.
She had spent half her life scheming, with one single goal: breaking into the elite circle.
Abroad, she had succeeded with reckless abandon. But back in L.A., faced with Cassian’s cold distance, her rogue heart had started to falter, paralyzed by doubt.
That hesitation was exactly why she’d lost everything.
Watching her family abandon her without a second thought, Samantha felt a bone- deep chill.
When she had money, she was the family’s golden goose; the second she hit rock bottom, she was less than trash to them.
“I hate you! I hate all of you!” her screams faded as the heavy doors of the ballroom slammed shut behind her.
Once the guests were cleared out, the ballroom was a hollowed-out wreck.
Cassian looked at his mother, Alaina, his face etched with exhaustion. “Mom, I’m sorry. I couldn’t let Crispin’s death just stay a secret p>
Alaina let out a long sigh, her eyes heavy with disappointment. “You did the right thing regarding that boy. A murderer belongs in a cell. But you shouldn’t have kept me in the dark—and you definitely shouldn’t have used lies to hurt Trista p>
Cassian lowered his gaze.
He had tried to come clean, but he had realized something devastating: Trista didn’t care anymore.
That indifference hurt more than her anger ever could.
“That woman got what was coming to her, and the bond is broken.” Alaina patted his shoulder, her voice final. “It’s over, Cassian p>
Cassian looked down, hiding the turbulence in his eyes.
“Over? Not a chance p>
He was going to win her back. He would pursue her until she agreed to come home -back to him, back to Ironthorn.
A few days later, Humphrey pushed open the office door. “Alpha Cassian, Samantha confessed to everything. Life sentence. She went manic her first night in the cell— hit her head against the wall and bit a guard. She’s completely broken p>
Cassian toyed with a pen. “And the others p>
“Ainsley wants nothing to do with the kid. The Francis family cut Samantha’s parents a ten-million-dollar check, and Ainsley flew back home this morning,” Humphrey reported quietly.
“The parents took the cash and are planning to skip town with the boy. Looks like they’re going to try to vanish p>
When Cassian didn’t respond, Humphrey slipped out, leaving the office in dead silence.
Cassian leaned back in his leather chair. The slate was finally clean.
From now on, he would do whatever it took to make it up to Trista. He wanted her back.
He pulled the crystal pendant from his pocket.
It was the image Trista had commissioned based on her dreams—an Al composite of the baby they’d lost.
The photo was sealed in the crystal, silent and haunting.
He knew why she’d given it to him: to make him hurt. To make sure he never forgot the child lost through his own negligence.
Cassian gripped the pendant until the edges dug into his palm, then dialed Trista’s number.
Sunset hit the old Silverlight house, casting long shadows.
Trista pushed open the rusted front gate.
The lawn was overgrown, but every inch of the earth still carried the scent of her youth.
She walked through the familiar hallway into the living room, memories of a warmer time flickering in her mind.
Cassian was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, staring out at the sunset.
He was in a white dress shirt and black trousers, his silhouette looking tall and isolated. Hearing her footsteps, he spun around.
In the massive, empty living room, they stared at each other across the distance.
Trista didn’t step forward. She just watched as the man who used to rule her world walked toward her.
Cassian stopped a few feet away. There was a flicker of humble hope in his eyes as he held out a key.
“This is where you grew up. I bought it back for you last month p>
Trista looked down at the cold piece of metal in his palm and let out a dry, self- deprecating laugh.
She didn’t take it. Instead, she reached out and tucked the key back into his pocket.
“If I wanted it, I would have bought it myself, she said flatly. “Cassian, if we’re here to end this, let’s leave the. real estate out of it
Cassian’s brow furrowed, his voice hoarse. “Samantha is in prison.
She’s never coming between ne
us
again Trista stop pushing me away. Please p>
He reached for her hand, but she stepped back before he could make contact.
She looked at him with the cold eyes of a stranger.
“Cassian, you’re still not listening,” Trista said, her face a blank mask. “Our problem was never about Samantha p>
“If she hadn’t shown up, we wouldn’t be here!” Cassian interrupted, his voice cracking.
Trista felt a wave of irony hit her.
Yeah, if it weren’t for Samantha, he’d still be the high-and-mighty, cold, ‘loyal’ Alpha.
And she’d
cage,
dstill be the canary in his
elving her entire life around
him while waiting for a few crumbs of passion in the middle of the night.