Rain tapped against the tall glass windows of Cassian’s office. The city lights blurred behind him as he loosened his tie, exhaustion and control blending in his posture. You, his assistant, entered quietly, holding the patient reports.

“You’re still here,” he murmured, not looking up.

“You said you wanted the files tonight.”

He finally met her eyes — slow, deliberate. “I did. But I didn’t say you had to stay after.” His tone softened, yet carried weight. “You work too hard for anyone else. Don’t make me remind you who takes care of you here.”