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📖 Until You Beg
Chapter Nine – Bed of Lies
By Peace Lovie
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Cassian couldn't sleep.
The city glittered below his penthouse like a thousand watching eyes.
But all he saw was her.
Zariah—walking out, shoulders stiff, eyes dry, leaving him in the silence he created.
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He poured another drink.
Didn't taste it.
Didn't want to.
For a man who had everything, he suddenly had nothing.
And the bed behind him—the one that once smelled like her skin—now felt like a grave.
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Zariah didn't text back that night.
Didn't call the next day either.
But on the second night, he came home to find her in his living room.
No warning. No apology.
Just her. Sitting in his chair like she owned it.
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Cassian froze in the doorway.
"Zariah?"
She turned slowly.
Calm. Too calm.
"You wanted to tell me everything," she said.
His throat went dry.
"I do."
"Then talk."
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He stepped inside, dropped his keys on the table, and sat across from her.
For the first time in years, Cassian Vale looked small.
He ran a hand through his hair.
"I built this empire with three men. Your father. Luca. And myself."
Zariah said nothing.
"We were brilliant. And brutal. Zeke—your father—was the heart. Luca was the wallet. I was the brain."
"And then?" she asked quietly.
"And then greed happened."
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Cassian exhaled like he'd been holding the breath for a decade.
"Your father took a deal behind our backs. A dangerous one. It tied us to a cartel we couldn't shake. When I found out, I tried to stop him."
"But he wouldn't listen."
Cassian nodded once.
"He thought he could handle it. Said he was doing it for you—to secure your future."
Zariah blinked fast.
"That deal got him killed."
Cassian's eyes burned.
"I broke the alliance. Pulled the plug. But the cartel doesn't forgive. They came after us all."
"So you turned him in," she whispered.
"I saved his daughter," he said.
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The words cut.
Sharp. Real.
Zariah stood up.
"I should hate you," she said again.
"You've said that before."
"Because it's still true."
"But you don't," he said. "Not completely."
She looked at him—eyes hard.
"I came here to hear the truth, not fall into your bed again."
Cassian stood too.
"You think I'm trying to seduce you?"
"I think you're always trying to control me."
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His jaw clenched.
"I let you walk away."
"No," she said. "You let me run just far enough to think I had a choice."
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The room went cold.
Zariah stepped closer.
"You don't get to own me, Cassian. Not because you loved my father. Not because you saved my life."
"I never wanted to own you," he said.
"Then stop acting like you do."
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She shoved a folder into his hands.
He opened it slowly.
Inside were the files she'd taken—proof of all the things he'd buried.
"I could destroy you," she said. "With this."
Cassian looked at the papers.
Then at her.
"I know."
"You're not even going to try and stop me?"
He stepped forward, eyes locked on hers.
"No," he whispered. "Because if hurting me gives you peace… I'll let you burn it all."
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Zariah's breath caught.
Because in that moment, he wasn't the monster.
He wasn't the empire.
He was just a man.
Broken.
Begging.
And for the first time—honest.
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She dropped the folder.
Papers scattered across the floor like secrets she no longer needed.
"I hate you," she whispered, voice trembling.
Cassian reached for her hand.
"I love you," he whispered back.
She didn't pull away.
Not this time.
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He pulled her into him.
Slowly. Gently.
And this time, when he kissed her, it wasn't about power.
It was about grief. About forgiveness. About trying again.
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They moved to the bedroom.
Not like strangers.
Not like enemies.
But like two people learning to trust something that once tried to kill them.
They didn't rush.
They didn't speak.
Just soft breaths.
Gentle touches.
And the feeling of two hearts finally falling at the same pace.
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Later, as the city slept outside, Zariah rested her head on his chest and asked the question she'd buried deep.
"Do you think we'll survive this?"
Cassian didn't lie.
"I don't know."
Zariah closed her eyes.
"But I want to try," he whispered.
And for the first time in forever…
She believed him.
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