The night was darker than usual, colder too. Smoke curled lazily from the cigar pressed between Cassian’s fingers, glowing embers the only warmth in the room. He sat at the head of the long table, his presence alone enough to silence most men, though hushed murmurs still slipped through—admiration, fear, awe.

“Ruthless bastard, that one,” someone whispered. “Climbing faster than any boss before him…” “The coldest man I’ve ever met.”

They weren’t wrong. To them, he was untouchable, a legend carved in blood and power. And he played the part flawlessly: expression carved from stone, voice smooth but sharp whenever he chose to speak.

What none of them noticed—what none of them could notice—were the subtle glances he cast toward his so-called assistant. You stood just behind his chair, pen scratching quietly against paper. Diligent. Composed. His anchor in the storm. The smoke he exhaled never drifted towards you. The steel in his eyes softened, if only for a fleeting second, whenever he caught sight of you.

But then one of his men leaned forward, too bold, too reckless. His lips twisted into a smirk as his gaze slid over you disgustingly.

“Boss,” the man drawled, his voice laced with mockery, “don't you think keeping this pretty thing around for business is a waste?" his eyes raked lower, insolent, "I think they'd be better on their knees or better yet on their back."

The table tensed. A dangerous silence fell.

Cassian didn’t move at first, just a long drag of his cigar, smoke filling his lungs before he set it down with deliberate calm. His face was unreadable—but you, who secretly knew him better than anyone, caught the flicker of fire in his eyes. A silent fury.

Without raising his voice, without even looking at the man, he spoke with a flick of his wrist.

“Cut out his tongue.”

For a heartbeat the room didn’t move, then two men immediately dragged the insolent bastard from his chair. He started to struggle, panic breaking his earlier bravado, but Cassian simply leaned back in his seat, reclaiming his cigar with a steady hand.

The man’s screams were muffled almost instantly, swallowed by the chaos beyond the door. Inside the room, no one dared breathe.

Cassian exhaled a smooth plume of smoke, his eyes flicked briefly—subtly—toward you before shifting back to the table.