CASSIAN'S DARK EMPIRE / UNDER HIS CONTROL / TRAPPED / DEPT OF BLOOD

Octavia’s POV The office was too quiet. That was how I liked it. I sat at my small desk, surrounded by broken circuit boards and tangled wires. To most people, these were just junk. To me, they were puzzles. I grew up with nothing, an orphan with no name to protect me. I learned early on that if you can fix things, people leave you alone. If you can control the machines, you can control your life. I checked the security logs on my laptop. It was 11:30 PM. Solara City was glowing outside my window, a place for rich people and tech geniuses. I was just the girl who made sure their cameras worked. Suddenly, a red light flashed on my screen. Level 4. VIP Parking Garage. Silent Alarm. I frowned. That garage was for the wealthiest people in the city. It was supposed to be the most secure place in the world. "Probably a faulty sensor," I muttered to myself. I grabbed my heavy metal toolbox and my tech belt. My boss always told me to wait for morning, but I couldn't ignore an alert. I liked things to be perfect. I liked things to be under control. I walked out into the cool night air. The garage was only two blocks away. It sat like a giant concrete beast under a luxury apartment building. As I swiped my keycard and entered Level 4, the smell of fresh tires and cold concrete hit me. It was silent. Too silent. I walked slowly, my soft boots making no sound. I reached the corner where the sensor was located, but I stopped. There were cars parked there. Big, black SUVs with tinted windows. And there were men. I pressed my back against a cold concrete pillar. My heart started to beat a little faster. I peeked around the edge. Five men stood in a circle. They were all tall and wore dark suits that cost more than I made in a year. In the middle of the circle, a man lay on the floor. He wasn't moving. My breath caught in my throat. I recognized the man standing in the center. Cassian Wolfe. Every person in Solara City knew that face. He was a trillionaire. A tech genius. But in the dark corners of the city, they called him the "Ghost." They said he owned the police, the politicians, and every illegal secret in the city. Beside him stood four men I recognized from the news. Ronan Drake, a man with a scary scar on his jaw. Damon Varela, who looked like he was calculating math problems in his head. Orion Steele, who looked ready to punch a wall. And Lucien Blackwood, who looked as calm as a priest. "Is he dead?" Orion asked. His voice was loud in the empty garage. "Not yet," Lucien replied smoothly. "But he won't be talking to the rival gangs anymore." Cassian didn't speak. He just stared down at the body. He looked bored, as if a dying man was just a broken piece of software. I needed to leave. Right now. I started to back away, moving inch by inch into the shadows. My hands were shaking. I reached into my pocket to grab my phone. I needed to call 911. I needed help. But as I pulled the phone out, my finger slipped. My phone was old and the screen was cracked. Instead of opening the phone, I accidentally swiped the camera shortcut. FLASH! The bright white light of the camera flash exploded in the darkness. It felt like a bomb went off. Every head snapped toward me. "Who’s there?" Ronan roared. He reached into his jacket, and I knew he was grabbing a gun. I didn't think. I reacted. I grabbed a heavy wrench from my toolbox and threw it at the overhead light fixture near me. CRASH! The glass shattered, and my corner of the garage went black. I turned and ran. I knew this garage better than they did. I had rewired the lights last month. "Get her!" Cassian’s voice rang out. It wasn't a scream. It was a cold, calm command. I ran toward the stairwell, my lungs burning. I could hear heavy footsteps behind me. "Stop, girl!" Ronan yelled. I didn't stop. I reached the door to the stairs and slammed it shut, sliding a metal screwdriver through the handles to lock it. It wouldn't hold them for long, but it gave me a second. I ran up the stairs to Level 5. I knew there was a vent that led to the street. I just had to reach it. But when I burst onto Level 5, a man was already there. It was Damon. He had used the elevator. "You're fast," Damon said. He didn't look angry. He looked like he was watching a bug in a jar. "But the Ghost wants to speak with you." I looked around. I was trapped. Ronan was breaking through the door behind me. Orion was coming up the ramp. Then, the elevator dinged. The doors opened. Cassian Wolfe stepped out. The other men stopped moving. They stood still, waiting for him. Cassian walked toward me. He didn't look like a killer. He looked like a king. He stopped a few feet away. "What is your name?" he asked. His voice was deep and smooth, like expensive silk. I gripped my toolbox. "Octavia," I said. My voice was shaking, but I looked him in the eye. "I was just fixing the alarm. I didn't see anything." Cassian tilted his head. He looked at my toolbox, then at my face. "You're a liar, Octavia," he said quietly. "You saw everything. And you destroyed my lights. That was very clever." "Boss, let me finish this," Ronan said, stepping forward. He had his gun out now. "She’s a witness. We can't have witnesses." I felt a cold shiver go down my back. I looked at the gun, then at Cassian. Cassian looked at Ronan, then back at me. A small, dark smile touched his lips. It wasn't a kind smile. It was the smile of a man who found a new toy. "No," Cassian said. "She’s not a witness. She’s a technician. And I have many things that need fixing." "But Boss…" Orion started to protest. "Quiet," Cassian snapped. The air in the garage felt heavy. He looked at me again. "You have two choices, Octavia. You can stay here with Ronan and his gun. Or you can come with me." "Where?" I asked. "To the clouds," he whispered. Before I could answer, Cassian nodded to Lucien. I didn't see the needle until it was too late. I felt a sharp sting in my neck. "Hey!" I yelled, reaching for my belt. But my arms felt like lead. My legs gave out. Cassian caught me before I hit the concrete. His arms were strong and warm. It was a strange feeling for a man who looked so cold. "Sleep now, Octavia," he murmured into my ear. "The city is yours no more. Now, you belong to the Ghost." The last thing I saw were his dark, piercing eyes. Then, the world went black.