Chapter 13
1096 Words
Blood in the Open
The call came at 2:17 a.m.
Serena was awake when the secure line lit up beside Cassian’s bed. She’d learned quickly that sleep came in fragments here—short, sharp rests between vigilance and instinct. Cassian reached for the device without hesitation, already alert, already calculating.
He didn’t speak at first.
Serena watched his expression shift—not into anger, not shock—but something colder. Something lethal.
“Where,” Cassian said calmly.
A pause.
“Lock it down,” he continued. “No civilian extraction. I want him alive.”
The line went dead.
Serena sat up. “What happened?”
Cassian didn’t look at her. He was already pulling on his boots. “Leonard stopped playing chess.”
Her chest tightened. “What does that mean?”
“It means he wants witnesses,” Cassian said. “And blood.”
She was on her feet before he finished the sentence. “Who?”
Cassian finally met her eyes. “One of my distribution fronts. He hit it personally.”
Her stomach dropped. “You said he wouldn’t go reckless.”
“I said he wouldn’t,” Cassian replied grimly. “I didn’t say you wouldn’t make him.”
The words landed like a slap—and a truth.
Serena grabbed her jacket. “Then I’m coming.”
“No.”
She stilled. “Cassian—”
“This is not a controlled environment,” he said sharply. “This is a message site. He wants you emotional. He wants you exposed.”
“And you think leaving me behind fixes that?” she shot back. “He already crossed that line.”
Cassian stepped toward her, voice low, dangerous. “You go out there, and I lose control of the variables.”
She held his gaze. “You already did. The moment you brought me into this war.”
Silence stretched between them, thick with something unspoken and combustible.
Then Cassian swore under his breath. “Get armed.”
⸻
The warehouse was burning when they arrived.
Not engulfed—but wounded. Smoke curled into the night sky, sirens screaming somewhere too far away to matter. Cassian’s people had already secured the perimeter, weapons drawn, faces grim.
Serena stepped out of the vehicle and felt it immediately—the shift. The chaos. The wrongness.
Blood stained the concrete near the entrance.
Her breath caught. “Cassian…”
“I see it,” he said tightly.
They moved fast.
Inside, the damage was surgical and theatrical all at once. Crates smashed. Product destroyed. One man slumped against the wall, alive but barely, blood soaking through his shirt.
Leonard hadn’t come to steal.
He’d come to be seen.
Cassian knelt beside the injured man. “Who did this?”
The man’s eyes flicked—fear, pain, fury. “He waited,” he rasped. “Didn’t hide. Wanted us to watch.”
Serena’s hands clenched at her sides.
“Where is he now?” Cassian demanded.
The man coughed. “Left a message.”
Cassian stiffened. “Where.”
The man lifted a shaking hand and pointed—to the center of the warehouse.
Serena saw it before Cassian did.
A phone.
Propped upright on a crate. Screen still lit.
Recording.
Cassian moved toward it, but Serena stepped ahead of him without thinking.
“Serena—”
Too late.
She picked up the phone.
Leonard’s face filled the screen, close, intimate, smiling like a man who’d already won.
“Hello, sweetheart,” Leonard said softly. “I wondered how long it would take you to show up.”
Serena’s pulse roared in her ears. “You hurt people.”
Leonard laughed. “No. I inconvenienced Cassian.”
Cassian’s voice cut in, ice-cold. “You’re out of position, Leonard.”
Leonard’s eyes flicked toward him, amused. “You’re slipping. Bringing her into your mess was sentimental. That’s not like you.”
Serena raised the phone. “You wanted me. I’m here.”
That earned her his full attention.
His smile faded—just a fraction.
“Good,” he said quietly. “Then listen carefully.”
The screen shifted.
Another location.
Another man—bound, bleeding.
Serena’s breath stopped. “Who is that?”
Leonard’s voice was almost tender. “Collateral. Someone who mattered to one of yours. I’m learning your ecosystem.”
Cassian went still.
That scared her more than anything else.
“You’re escalating,” Cassian said. “That ends badly for you.”
Leonard leaned closer to the camera. “No. This ends with her choosing.”
Serena’s hands shook. “This isn’t about me.”
Leonard’s eyes burned. “Everything has always been about you.”
The recording ended.
The phone went dark.
For a moment, no one moved.
Then Serena turned on Cassian.
“He’s not bluffing.”
“No,” Cassian said quietly. “He’s unraveling.”
“And he’ll kill that man.”
“Yes.”
Serena swallowed hard. “Then we go now.”
Cassian looked at her—really looked at her. “You don’t understand what that means.”
“I do,” she said. “It means he wants me alone. And I’m done pretending I don’t know why.”
Cassian’s jaw clenched. “You go to him, and I can’t guarantee your safety.”
She stepped closer. “You never could.”
The truth hung between them, sharp and undeniable.
“You taught me to see patterns,” she continued. “Here’s one: Leonard only loses control when he thinks he’s losing me.”
Cassian’s voice dropped. “You are not a bargaining chip.”
“I’m not,” she agreed. “I’m the trigger.”
Silence.
Then Cassian did something she hadn’t expected.
He pulled her close—hard, sudden, undeniable—and kissed her.
Not gentle. Not hesitant.
It was violent in its honesty. Possessive. Furious. Charged with everything they’d been circling and refusing to name.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against hers.
“If he touches you—”
“He won’t,” she said. “Because I’m not going to him as prey.”
Cassian exhaled slowly. “You’re choosing the most dangerous path.”
She met his gaze, steady and unflinching. “I already did. The night I didn’t run.”
Another beat.
Then Cassian nodded once.
“Gear up,” he said. “We end this phase tonight.”
Serena turned toward the exit, heart pounding—not with fear, but certainty.
Leonard wanted recklessness.
He was about to learn what it cost
- Writer
