Yvette’s POV
The bathroom mirror was still fogged when I stepped out, water droplets trailing down my skin.
For a moment, everything felt quiet. Too quiet.
I reached for my phone on the bedside table. But it wasn’t there.
I didn’t even remember where I dropped it. I clearly remembered taking it with me before I left the table yesterday.
I frowned and checked under the pillows. Then the other side. Then the floor.
"Where is it..." I muttered, irritation creeping in.
Could it be with Ryan? Cassian? My memories felt like a blur.
My chest tightened slightly.
No. Don’t overthink.
I stepped out of the room and almost ran straight into Randy.
He stopped immediately, like he had been standing there longer than necessary.
"Randy... erm, have you seen my phone?" I asked, trying to sound casual.
He hesitated.
Just for a second.
But I caught it.
"Yes, miss. It’s with the boss."
My heart dropped.
Cassian?
Why did he have my phone?
A wave of panic surged through me before I forced myself to breathe.
Relax.
It’s a new phone.
There’s nothing on it.
No contacts. No messages. Nothing that could expose me.
I swallowed, steadying myself.
"Okay... where is he?"
"In his bedroom," he said, shifting slightly. As if he had answered the question before his brain finally caught up, "Boss is currently occupied. It would be best if you wait."
Occupied?
Something about the way he said it made my stomach twist. Like he was hiding something.
Did Cassian tell him he didn’t want to see me? Was he still angry?
"I’ll just get it quickly," I said, already moving past him.
"Miss, please," Randy stepped forward, blocking my path. "You shouldn’t go in right now."
That was it.
My suspicion spiked.
Why shouldn’t I?
"What’s going on?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
"Nothing for you to worry about," he replied, but his voice lacked its usual confidence.
That confirmed it.
Something was wrong.
And whatever it was, it involved Cassian.
I didn’t wait for permission.
I pushed past Randy.
"Miss Isabelle—"
I ignored him and walked straight down the hall, following instinct more than direction.
Randy didn’t stop me again, his footsteps a few steps behind me.
That alone told me everything.
The door to Cassian’s room was slightly ajar, and I could hear voices filtering through. Low and urgent.
"...I kept warning about delaying it. This isn’t something you can keep ignoring. Your levels have dropped significantly," a man said.
"I said I’m fine," Cassian’s voice came out rough, strained.
Was he sick?
I didn’t think and just pushed the door open.
The scene froze me in place.
Cassian was on the bed. He wasn’t sitting or standing... he was lying on the bed.
His shirt was unbuttoned, exposing the ink across his chest, his temple and skin damp with sweat.
His fingers were clenched, making his biceps– one inked, one skin – look even bigger.
His breathing was uneven, shallow, like every inhale cost him something. And his jaw was set so hard a knot formed in my stomach.
A man in a doctor’s coat stood beside him, clearly in the middle of trying to do something, a syringe in hand.
Randy slipped in behind me, but he didn’t speak.
No one did.
Cassian’s head turned slowly.
His bloodshot eyes found mine.
And for a split second, something flickered there.
His gaze looked emotionless and unstable—raw fury.
"What is she doing here?" the doctor asked sharply.
"I told you not to let anyone in," he added, glancing at Randy.
"I tried," Randy replied quietly.
But I wasn’t listening anymore.
Something felt wrong.
Deeply wrong.
Cassian’s hand twitched against the sheets. His jaw tightened, like he was fighting something inside his own body.
"Get out," Cassian said.
His voice was low, but it lacked its usual authority.
It sounded... strained.
I didn’t move.
"Get out," he repeated, harsher this time.
But even that didn’t carry weight.
I took a step forward.
"I just came for my phone," I said, but the words felt hollow even to me.
My eyes stayed on him.
He didn’t look like himself.
Not the man who pinned me to walls and threatened people without blinking.
This version of him looked like he was barely holding himself together.
"Miss, please step outside," the doctor said. "This isn’t a good time."
I took another step... getting closer. It was as if my body was moving on its own.
Cassian’s breathing changed. His unfocused gaze shifted, locking me fully now.
I reached out.
"Don’t," he warned.
But his voice had dropped.
Lower.
Rougher.
Like it was being dragged out of him.
I should have stopped.
I knew I should have.
But something pulled me forward anyway.
"Cassian..." I said softly.
That was the mistake.
Or maybe it wasn’t.
Because the moment I got close enough, his hand shot out.
Fast.
Too fast.
He grabbed my wrist.
I gasped.
His grip was strong. Not painful, but firm enough that I couldn’t pull away.
"Don’t come closer," he said, but he stilled, and then he pressed my hand against his chest.
He held it there, against his skin, as if he were checking something.
His breathing stuttered again, and then it began to slow slightly.
The doctor froze, his gaze snapping to where my hand pressed Cassian’s skin.
"Wait..." he murmured, stepping closer.
Cassian’s grip tightened.
He pulled me forward.
Not roughly.
But with purpose.
Until I was standing right beside the bed.
"Boss—" Randy started.
"Don’t," the doctor cut him off quietly.
We all felt it.
The shift.
Cassian’s shoulders, which had been tense, began to ease.
Not completely.
But enough to notice.
His breathing steadied, just a little.
His eyes stayed on me, regaining their sharpness and focus.
"What did you just do?" the doctor asked, looking between us.
I blinked. "I didn’t do anything."
I didn’t understand it... What just happened? Cassian’s hold on my hand tightened again. Like he didn’t want to let go.
His head tilted slightly, his gaze dropping to my lips for a second before returning to my eyes.
"Stay," he said. It didn’t sound like a command.
It was something else, something I couldn’t quite name, and it made my chest tighten.
"I... I should go," I said, even though I didn’t move.
His grip tightened again.
"No."
He responded with one word, his voice low and final.
The doctor exhaled slowly. "His vitals are stabilising."
Randy looked just as confused as I felt.
"This doesn’t usually happen," the doctor added under his breath.
Cassian didn’t care. His gaze was still fixed on me.
Like I was the only thing keeping him there.
His fingers curled around mine, pulling me just a little closer.
He patted the space beside him on the bed.
"Can you sleep with me?"