CHAPTER FIVE
793 Words
Cassian & Caleb — The Rift
Los Angeles, Five Years Ago
The Bell estate on the coast of Malibu had always been a symbol of power—white marble walls, high glass windows, and staff trained to vanish into silence. But on that particular evening, it became a battleground of bitter truths and broken bonds.
Cassian Bell stood near the grand fireplace, his jaw tight, his hands clasped behind his back. He wore a charcoal suit, impeccable as always, but the tension in his shoulders gave him away. He was waiting.
Across the room, a younger man leaned against the bar counter, swirling whiskey in a crystal glass. Caleb Bell. The only other person who carried the Bell name, and the only one who ever dared to challenge it.
“You summoned me like a damn assistant,” Caleb muttered, his voice laced with both irritation and mockery. “You forget I’m your brother, not your employee.”
Cassian didn’t flinch. “You stopped being my brother the moment you put our company at risk.”
“Oh, here we go,” Caleb said, laughing bitterly. “The great Cassian Bell and his holy empire. You think everything runs on your schedule, your vision, your perfect rules. Newsflash, big brother—not everyone wants to be your clone.”
Cassian’s eyes darkened. “You leaked confidential plans to our competitor. You jeopardized our Shanghai deal. And you didn’t even have the decency to admit it.”
“I didn’t leak anything,” Caleb snapped, the glass in his hand trembling. “I told you then, and I’ll say it again—someone set me up. But you didn’t even give me the benefit of the doubt. You were just waiting for an excuse to cut me loose.”
There was a long pause. One heavy with history.
Cassian stepped forward, his tone colder than the ocean wind. “You brought in a woman you barely knew and gave her access to classified documents. She worked for Blackridge Group. I warned you. You ignored me. Then she disappeared—with our internal projections. If that’s not betrayal, what is?”
Caleb set the glass down harder than necessary. “I loved her.”
Cassian’s voice dropped. “Then you’re a fool.”
That was the final straw. Caleb’s nostrils flared as he took a step closer.
“You think love makes a man weak. That caring for people is a liability. But maybe the real weakness is thinking you can control everything and everyone. One day, Cassian, you’ll push away the wrong person. And there won’t be a merger or buyout big enough to fix it.”
Cassian’s face remained unreadable. “Consider this your last visit to the Bell estate. You’re no longer welcome in my home or my company.”
Caleb’s laugh was empty. “You mean our company. The one Dad built for us. But sure, keep playing god. One day, even your ice will melt.”
He turned, his steps echoing as he walked out of the room—and out of Cassian’s life.
That night, the Bell family officially split into two.
Present Day – New York
Cassian stared down at the photo in his hand. It was wrinkled from the grip of his fingers.
Calla Rowan, standing on the street corner. Facing Caleb. Talking.
Why?
Cassian sat in his leather chair, the Manhattan skyline sprawling behind him, but his mind wasn’t on the city. It was racing through possibilities—calculated, ruthless possibilities.
Had Caleb sent her? Was this another attempt to sabotage the company? Or was it a coincidence?
But Cassian didn’t believe in coincidence. Especially not when it came to bloodlines.
He remembered the look in Calla’s eyes earlier—sharp, tired, but honest. If she was playing a role, she played it well.
Too well.
His phone buzzed.
A message from the internal surveillance team:
The meeting was brief. No audio, but she handed him something. He left before entering the building.”
Cassian swore under his breath. He didn’t like puzzles without edges.
He pulled up Calla’s file again. No prior connection to Caleb. No job history overlap. But her background… light. Too light. Almost like it had been cleaned.
There was only one way to find out.
He buzzed his assistant. “Schedule her for a meeting with me tomorrow morning. And alert security—I want eyes on every interaction she has until further notice.”
He hung up and glanced at the photo one last time before shredding it into fine paper dust.
Cassian Bell didn’t trust easily. And if Calla Rowan had secrets, he’d uncover every last one.
Even if it meant confronting the past he buried five years ago.
- Writer
