Fallen of the hero

Leila's heart skipped a beat as she turned, expecting to see another customer or a passing waiter. But the figure standing in the doorway wasn't anyone she recognized.

Tall, with an air of command that immediately made the room feel smaller. His black suit and cold gaze were unmistakable. Dante.

She didn't need to ask how he found her. Cassius had eyes everywhere. But this? This was too far.

"Jaxon," Dante said with a sharp nod, never taking his eyes off Leila. "Cassius wants to see her."

Jaxon sat back, his eyes narrowing as he leaned away from the table. "So the little reporter's caught up with the big boys now." He smirked, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Leila swallowed, her pulse racing. She wasn't scared—not yet—but she could feel the tension building like the wind before a storm.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," she said firmly, trying to gather the strength she knew she'd need. "You tell Cassius that."

Dante's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "I'm not asking." His voice was like ice, cold and unforgiving.

The door of the café suddenly seemed too far away, the space between her and the exit stretching out in front of her like a canyon.

Jaxon shot her a glance, his amusement gone. "You're in too deep now, Leila. Running won't do you any good." He leaned forward, his voice a low whisper. "And neither will playing games with Cassius."

Leila's fingers curled into the edge of the table as she took a steadying breath. "I'm not afraid of him," she said, her voice firm. But even she could hear the lie in it. The truth was, she was terrified. Terrified of Cassius and what he might do to her if she couldn't outsmart him.

Dante took one step forward, the weight of his presence suffocating. "Don't make this harder than it has to be."

Before she could respond, Dante's phone vibrated in his pocket. He took a brief glance at the screen, his eyes darkening.

"Change of plans," he said, his voice low and menacing. "Cassius wants to see you now. Alone."

Leila's stomach dropped. This was it—the moment she had feared.

"Fine," she said, standing up slowly. "But know this—if you think you're taking me to him just like that, you're wrong."

She turned to Jaxon, her gaze hardening. "Get out of my way."

Jaxon didn't move for a moment, his eyes lingering on her with a mixture of amusement and something darker. "You're either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid," he muttered, standing up as well.

"Maybe both," she replied, trying to mask her nerves.

As they stepped outside, the night air hit her like a slap in the face, cold and biting. Dante led her down the street with precision, each step purposeful, as if he had done this a thousand times before.

Leila couldn't help but notice the sleek black car waiting by the curb. Cassius's personal vehicle.

She wanted to fight back, to run, but the weight of the situation crushed any desire for rebellion. She had no choice but to follow.

Dante opened the door for her, his expression unreadable as he nodded for her to enter.

She hesitated only for a moment before sliding into the backseat. The door slammed shut behind her.

As the car pulled away, Leila looked out the window, her mind racing. She had just walked right into Cassius Beaumont's lair. And she had no idea what he wanted from her.

---

Inside his penthouse, Cassius stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, his back to her as he gazed out over the city. The lights twinkled below, but his thoughts were far away—focused entirely on the woman who had just entered his life.

Leila Carter.

She had no idea what she had gotten herself into, but Cassius was already two steps ahead. She was more than just a pawn now. She had become something else—something worth keeping.

When she entered the room, her eyes met his without flinching. But he could see it—the slight quiver in her chin, the way her fingers tightened around her jacket.

"Leila," he said, his voice smooth, almost comforting. "I'm glad you could join me."

Her jaw tightened, but she didn't respond. Instead, she crossed the room and stopped just in front of him, her eyes meeting his with a mix of defiance and vulnerability.

Cassius smiled faintly. "You're a lot more interesting than I expected."

"I'm not your toy, Beaumont," she spat, the fire in her voice surprising even her. "You're not going to control me."

Cassius chuckled softly. "Control? No. I'm not interested in controlling you, Leila. But I am interested in what happens when you fight back."

Her eyes narrowed. "You think I'm playing your game?"

His smile widened. "I don't think. I know."

For the first time, the air between them felt charged with something unspoken, a tension neither of them could deny.

Cassius knew she was dangerous. But she didn't know it yet.

He stepped closer to her, his voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. "You're in deep now, Leila. No turning back."

She looked up at him, her chest rising and falling with every breath. "I'm not afraid of you."

Cassius didn't respond with words. Instead, he reached up, his fingers brushing her hair back, his touch light but firm.

"Good," he whispered. "Because you'll need that courage."

And then, before she could respond, he kissed her—soft and slow, a promise of something more dangerous than she could have ever imagined.