Chapter 447
Chapter 447
Third Person’s POV
Finished
Cassian looked his father dead in the eye, his gaze so hollow it was heartbreaking. “Dad… did you ever, for even one second, stop to think about what kind of life I actually wanted p>
A graveyard silence fell over the hall.
After a few seconds of staring each other down, Cassian turned away, his body looking heavy with a bone- deep, desolate exhaustion as he disappeared down the corridor.
Alaina followed him to the door, her heart aching. “Cassian, let me take you to the Blade Healing Center tomorrow morning for a full checkup. You look terrible p>
“I’m fine, Mom.” Cassian stopped, forcing his voice to stay gentle for her sake. “Don’t worry about it p>
Alaina watched his lonely, defeated silhouette fade away, her eyes stinging.
She turned back to the living room and confronted her husband right in front of Howard. “Ironthorn is already at the top of the food chain in L.A. We have enough wealth and power to look down on the whole country. Why are you still pushing him into this endless cycle of greed p>
“What do you know about it p>
Wilmot snapped, his temper flaring. “Business is war! Today we’re at the top of the pyramid, but the second we show a hint of weakness, those starving hyenas will tear us to pieces p>
He took a ragged breath and continued, “You can’t lead an army with a soft heart, and you can’t run a business with mercy. If Cassian keeps drowning in this useless personal drama, he’ll end up like Randolph -leading Ironthorn straight to ruin p>
Howard added his heavy support from the head of the table. “Business isn’t a charity. Profit comes first. If he keeps letting his emotions drive the bus, he’s not fit to carry the weight of this pack’s territory p>
The sounds of the argument faded as Cassian reached his car.
He immediately reached for the painkillers in the passenger seat.
He twisted the cap, but all he heard was the hollow rattle of an empty bottle. He’d finished them.
He grit his teeth against the neurological pain screaming through his body and started the engine.
An hour later, Cassian walked out of a downtown pharmacy with a fresh prescription. As his gaze drifted toward the corner, he froze.
Trista’s parents were coming out of a grocery store, struggling with several heavy bags.
They eventually had to stop by a park bench, breathless and clearly overmatched by the weight.
Cassian’s first instinct was to run over. He wanted to take those bags from them, to be the reliable, respected son–in–law he used to be.
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Chapter 447
Finished
But before he could even take a step, a light, fast figure darted across the street.
It was Isaiah.
He naturally took the heavy bags from them, laughing as he chatted with Trista’s parents. He stood protectively by them as he guided them across the crosswalk.
Cassian stood there, paralyzed. His hand, which had started to reach out, hung uselessly in the air before dropping to his side.
He knew the last person they wanted to see was him, but he’d desperately hoped he could do something for them.
Seeing Isaiah step in so effortlessly–filling the role, the responsibility, and the space that used to be his- made Cassian feel like a ghost.
He was the redundant, pathetic spectator in a warm family portrait.
This feeling of being “extra” was like a slow–motion execution, peeling away his pride and sanity piece by piece.
The suffocating feeling of watching everything slip away while being powerless to stop it was driving him insane.
He didn’t even remember the drive back.
In the bathroom, Cassian stood under a freezing shower.
The ice–cold water hammered his skin as he tried to shock himself back to reality.
But the irony was, the more sober he got, the more the pain of losing everything became clear and lethal.
He stared at a name on his phone screen until the display timed out, leaving him in total darkness.
At 8:00 PM, Fred let himself into the apartment.
He didn’t come in with his usual snark; he just silently set a stainless steel thermos on the coffee table.
“Trista made this soup herself.” Fred patted Cassian’s shoulder, his tone complicated. “I had to lie through my teeth and tell her I wanted some for my mom just to get her to pack me a serving p>
Fred didn’t stay long. He left the thermos and walked out.
Cassian sat in the shadows in a dark robe, looking like a stone statue.
He stared at the thermos for a long time before his trembling fingers finally reached out to unscrew the lid.
The warm, savory aroma immediately filled the cold living room.
“How long has it been since I tasted her cooking?” he wondered bitterly.
It seemed like from the day Samantha showed up in L.A. with that child, Trista had retracted every ounce
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Chapter 447
of her warmth. She hadn’t stepped into a kitchen for him since.
A sharp pang of guilt twisted in his chest. He picked up a spoon and took a small sip.
Corn and shrimp soup, with shredded chicken.
Memories hit him like a tidal wave.
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Finished
Trista was never exactly a natural in the kitchen. But during their first year of mating, she’d seen how much his stomach suffered from the stress of pack politics and insisted on learning to cook for him.
This was the first dish she ever mastered.
He remembered coming home late from the office that night. She’d served it to him, eyes full of hope, only for him to give her a freezing response: “It’s average. Don’t waste your time doing this again p>
It wasn’t until after the bond was broken that he found out that bowl of soup–the one he’d treated like trash—was the result of her practicing in secret for a month until she thought it was perfect.
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Sara Lili
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.