a beautiful captive

chapter 5

Cassian

My fist landed on Damian's jaw more forcefully than intended, the hit stinging my knuckles and sending him stumbling back. He caught his breath and took his stance again, primarily as a reflex rather than any real intention of fighting back.

Finally, the tension that had stretched tight under my skin started to ease up—just a little. I stepped out of his reach and wiped my forehead with the back of my hand, sweat stinging my eyes. My chest heaved as I forced myself to slow down, to catch my breath.

“I’m only letting you get those punches in because you clearly need it,” Damian said, rolling his shoulders like he wasn’t bothered in the slightest. But his crooked grin gave him away. Seriously, he was enjoying this way too much.

I snorted, unwrapping my fists, aware of the lingering tension in my body, the irritation still humming quietly beneath it.

“What’s got you all wound up?” he asked, undoing his wraps and trailing after me out of the ring.

I shot him a tired look. He knew better than to push—trust wasn’t exactly something I handed out easily. We’d crossed paths five years ago, by chance, though with Damian, nothing ever seemed like an accident. That night had ended a lot like this one: both of us bloody and wired, not ready to talk about any of it. He’s the type who seems to calculate every move before making it.

Back then, I’d turned up at his club just looking only to immerse myself in alcohol, drowning out the noise in my head. But he’d spotted me right away. Noticed the split knuckles, the dried blood. He didn’t ask.

He just tipped his head, looked me over, and said, “You look like you need to hit something.”

That single sentence was enough.

Ever since, this underground gym—tucked away under the club and far from everything else—became almost familiar. A place where control didn’t mean holding back, but letting go.

Where pain didn’t matter. Where you could just exist, without worrying about what would come after.

I rolled my shoulders, feeling the ache now that the adrenaline was draining out. My thoughts drifted back to where they started.

The office. The call. And her.

Sure, Julian was right about the situation. But I just can't shake the feeling that I'm right. She is somehow tied to this whole thing. My gut never lies. I just need to figure out what she knows, and I am willing to do anything to find out. Whatever it takes.

I grabbed a water bottle, twisted the cap off, and took a deep drink. Cold water washed away some of the heat from my body. I exhaled, my fingers squeezing the plastic a little tighter.

"I kidn*pped an innocent girl," I said. Finally answering his question.

The words sat in the air, heavy, hanging way too long.

Damian froze, his bottle still hovering near his mouth, eyes wide. He lowered it, turning to really look at me, almost like he thought maybe I meant something else.

I didn’t.

"What do you mean, you kidn*pped an innocent girl?" His voice lost that relaxed edge. It sounded sharp now, all business.

"Exactly what it sounds like," I said. I shoved my wraps into my duffel, not caring if I unintentionally damaged them.

“But to be clear, she isn't exactly innocent. I just haven't confirmed she has what I'm looking for.”

Silence.

A slow breath.

"Let me get this straight," Damian said, setting his bottle aside, folding his arms as he studied me like he was seeing me for the first time. “ You kidn*pped an innocent girl, but you are slightly sure she isn't, and you think she has something you need? " He said, looking at me for confirmation. He didn't get any.

"To be honest, I expected you to dodge my question, like always. I didn’t think you’d actually answer. So, now what? What do you want me to do with that?"

I kept quiet. There wasn’t anything worth saying.

"I don’t like getting dragged into other people’s messes," he went on, voice flat. "Especially when those messes come with fallout."

I snorted—a dry, bitter sound—slung my bag over my shoulder, and started for the door.

"You’re not exactly squeaky clean," I muttered.

"Exactly," he shot back. "That’s why I mentioned other people’s problems."

A hint of a grin crept its way to my lips.

I shoved the door open. The gym noise faded behind me, his words trailing after.

By the time I hit the stairs, my decision felt solid. Like I’d made it ages ago, even if I hadn’t admitted it until now.

I wasn’t walking away.

This thing, I was going to finish it.

It's time to meet Miss Hayley.