Bloodlines

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📖 Until You Beg

Chapter Six – Bloodlines

By Peace Lovie

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She couldn't breathe.

Not in the car. Not in the elevator. Not even in the safety of her apartment.

Zariah paced the floor, heels still on, dress clinging to her like a second skin as she replayed the moment over and over—

> The scar on Cassian's hand.

The shape. The depth.

The exact same as her father's.

She remembered the story.

Her father, drunk and bitter one night, told it like a fable.

> "We got matching scars, Zee. From the day I thought I had a brother. Turns out he was a devil."

Cassian Vale.

He hadn't just destroyed her family.

He had been part of it.

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She ripped off the dress and sank to the floor.

How close had he been to her father?

How long had he been a shadow in their story?

He looked her in the eyes tonight and said—

> "I didn't know how to be soft before you."

And yet he had once stood next to her father and watched him fall.

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By morning, Zariah had made a decision.

If Cassian truly was the man from her father's past, then there would be a record.

Somewhere.

Somewhere he wouldn't expect her to look.

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She arrived early, before the office was full.

Elias smiled when he saw her. "Burning the morning oil now?"

"I'm just… focused," she said, keeping her tone light.

But once she was alone, she slipped into Cassian's private archive.

Not his office. Not his desk.

His encrypted cloud folder, linked to the master desktop in his study.

She had watched him log in enough times. Studied his pattern. Memorized the rhythm of his fingers.

It took three tries.

On the fourth, the folder opened.

And everything shattered.

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> Photo after photo.

Document after document.

Her father's name—Ezekiel Rose—tied to offshore accounts, wire transfers, unregistered properties.

But that wasn't what gutted her.

No, it was the images.

Old. Scanned from film.

Her father—young, confident, standing beside Cassian.

Smiling. Laughing.

Brothers in crime.

They started a company together once. Before the betrayal. Before the blood.

And then, a letter.

Short. Typed.

> "You left me no choice, Zeke. You were going to ruin us both."

— C.

Zariah's hand trembled as she printed the file and slid it into her purse.

Proof.

She had what she came for.

So why didn't it feel like triumph?

Why did it feel like grief?

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Cassian didn't come into the office that day.

He sent a message through Elias: Working from the estate. Reschedule my 2 p.m.

Zariah stared at the text for a long time.

He was avoiding her.

Or protecting her.

Or maybe… both.

She left work early.

And instead of going home, she drove to the estate.

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The gate opened when she gave her name.

Security didn't question it.

They knew her now.

Inside, the house was too quiet. Curtains drawn. No music. Just tension clinging to the air like fog.

Cassian was in the garden.

Dark shirt. Sleeves rolled. No tie.

He looked up when he heard her footsteps—surprised, but not angry.

"I wasn't expecting you," he said.

"I know."

"Then why are you here?"

She reached into her purse and pulled out the printed letter. Handed it to him without a word.

Cassian unfolded the paper.

And froze.

He didn't ask where she got it.

He didn't deny what it meant.

He just… closed his eyes.

"I wanted to tell you," he said quietly. "I didn't know how."

Zariah stepped closer.

"You knew my father."

"I loved him. Once."

Her breath caught.

"You destroyed him."

"He destroyed himself."

"No," she snapped. "You sent the letter. You betrayed him."

"I saved him. From the people who would've buried him and me."

He looked at her now—face open, raw.

"I tried to protect his family. I watched from a distance. I knew about you. I sent money after he died—"

"You think that's what I needed?" she whispered. "Money?"

"No. I think you needed truth."

"And now that I have it?" she asked, voice breaking. "What happens now?"

Cassian didn't answer.

He reached out instead. His fingers brushed her jaw, soft. Careful.

"I didn't plan to feel this way about you," he said.

"Then don't."

"I can't help it."

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Zariah's heart was a war zone.

She had come here to confront him.

But now?

Now she didn't know whether to slap him or fall into his arms.

And Cassian?

He just stood there, eyes burning with something more dangerous than guilt.

Hope.

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