Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Cassian & Luna
Cassian
The world tilted. My fingers gripped the armrest, knuckles bone-white, barely keeping me upright.
Laila... was mine.
My heart stopped. Then it slammed against my ribs like it wanted to break free.
That child who wrapped her arms around my neck, calling me Cassian, whose bright-eyed smile made me willing to take a bullet for her. My blood ran through her veins.
A wild, feverish joy tore through my chest. I knew it!
That inexplicable closeness, that soul-deep tremor I felt looking at her—it wasn't some damn "fate." It was blood screaming from the depths.
Then fury crashed over me, scorching enough to incinerate everything.
Luna had hidden this from me for six years. Six goddamn years. How dare she?
I'd missed her first cry in the cradle. Missed her first wobbly steps. When she was sick, I wasn't there. When she needed a father...
"I wish you were my dad."
Laila's words from moments ago echoed in my ears. Guilt and rage tangled until I couldn't breathe.
I'd lost so much time with Laila.
Luna had countless chances to tell me. But she didn't. Was she planning to let that bastard Seb be Laila's father instead?
I remembered seeing him holding my daughter at our reunion, calling her sweetheart while I stood there like a fool.
This betrayal—this knife in the back from someone I'd trusted most—made my stomach churn, my throat burn. My fingers cracked against the armrest.
I don't know how I pushed that door open.
The bang echoed through the silent hallway as expensive oak slammed against the wall.
Chloe was holding her phone, Luna still talking on the screen. She nearly dropped it when she saw me.
"Cassian?"
"Laila is my daughter." The words came out as a growl, my voice so raw I barely recognized it.
Chloe jumped up, trying to approach me. "Just calm down!"
I couldn't hear her. My eyes locked on Luna through the screen. Pale, silent.
"Six years." My voice shook. "You stole six years from me. Fuck!"
Chloe stepped in front of me. "Listen to me first—"
I wasn't listening anymore. Chloe's explanations, Luna's trembling silence—it all looked like sickening lies.
I shoved past her and stormed out.
I tore into the garage, the engine roaring through the underground space.
I shifted hard, floored it. Streetlights blurred past the windows.
Lies. All fucking lies.
The tenderness these past days, the soul-deep connection, those warm embraces in the bathroom—were they all smoke and mirrors to keep me docile while she planned to take Laila away?
How could she accept my love in that bed while keeping me from knowing my own daughter?
Fury blurred my vision. One thought pounded through my skull. I had to see her. I had to ask if her heart was made of stone.
The car flew through the streets. I didn't wait for red lights. Nearly clipped a turning car at an intersection. The horn blared. I didn't stop.
I skidded into the dance studio's lot. Didn't even lock the car door. Stumbled toward the lit rehearsal room.
Luna
When Cassian burst into the study, my world collapsed.
When the screen went black, I slid down the cold wooden floor, phone tumbling from my fingers with a dull thud.
In that moment, I felt less fear than a strange, hollow relief.
That secret I'd carried for six years—so heavy lately it bent my spine—finally detonated like a ticking bomb.
Cassian knew. Or at least, he'd heard.
No more hiding. No more averting my eyes when he looked at me with such feeling at night. No more fabricating lies Laila didn't believe when she asked about her father.
But relief gave way to cold dread.
What would Cassian do with his resources? Would he take Laila from me? Would the King family's power ensure I never saw my daughter again?
Logic said he wouldn't. But I couldn't stop the terrible thoughts.
My stomach cramped violently. I clutched my abdomen, throat tight, every breath tasting of blood.
Heavy footsteps thundered down the hall. Fast.
The studio door slammed open.
I looked up. Cassian. Red-rimmed eyes, shirt collar open, hair windswept and wild.
When he saw me, he froze.
"Laila is my daughter." His voice was sandpaper rough, eyes glacial. "Isn't she?"
I stared at him, trying to speak, but my throat closed around the words.
"You hid this from me for six years." He took a step forward, voice breaking. "Six years. You made me miss all her firsts. I wasn't part of anything. I knew nothing."
I drew a deep breath, forcing my voice steady.
"Because I didn't know how to tell you," I said. "When I left six years ago, I didn't know I was pregnant. Didn't find out until London. By then, I hated you too much to want any connection."
Pain flashed in his eyes. "Luna, you can't deny me the right to be a father because of my mistakes."
The words shattered my guilt. Absurd laughter bubbled up. "Let you be her father? So you could take Laila back to the King family, lock her in that soul-eating dynasty, turn her into another cold-blooded heir machine like you?"
"You know I wouldn't—" His voice rose.
"I don't know!" I cut him off, eyes stinging. "You didn't believe me. You hurt me. When I stood outside that door pregnant with your child, I heard you say—say I disgusted you, that you wanted to escape this house. How could I trust you?"
His face went white.
The studio was quiet except for his ragged breathing and distant piano notes from another room.
He staggered back, temple vein bulging. "What about after you came back? We've spent all this time together. Can't you see I've changed?"
"I came back for the performance. I didn't think—" I stopped, breathed deep. "I didn't think you'd become this. Didn't think you'd be so good to Laila. Didn't think you'd—"
"I'd what?" He stepped closer.
"Make me waver." My nails bit into my palms. "I admit it. I've been wavering lately. Maybe I should've told you. But I was scared."
"Scared?"
"The way you were when we first met again... I was afraid you'd take her. Afraid you'd become that controlling man again."
Cassian seemed beyond hearing. He grabbed my shoulders hard, then loosened his grip when I gasped.
"How could you not give me one chance? How could you be so... selfish! Laila is my daughter, too!"
I looked into his eyes—fury, hurt, betrayal, deep confusion.
Thinking of everything I'd borne, bitterness washed over me. I'd chosen to raise Laila alone—Cassian didn't know. But I couldn't control my anger now.
Cassian didn't have to shoulder any responsibility. He enjoyed total freedom. Sat on massive wealth, never worried about groceries, medical bills, or car repairs.
While I counted every last penny even on good days. Missed being with Laila because of endless small crises.
And now, after learning all this, his first reaction was defending his rights, not thinking about how hard these years had been for me.
My chest tightened. I wrenched free. "You think this was easy? I flew to London with a belly, gave birth alone, and dragged her everywhere by myself. What choice did I have?"
"And all of it—your coldness created it. I have the right to protect her, and to keep her from a swamp that could kill her soul!"
Cassian's breathing was ragged. "Protect her by making her sleep on floors in some dump in London, letting her suffer with you instead of coming back to Washington to be the highest princess?"
"Fuck being a princess!" Years of rage erupted. My voice was completely hoarse. "She doesn't need to be a princess. She needs a mother who can give her security! Not some asshole father who never thinks about his own problems and only knows how to throw money at people!"
He didn't understand. He hadn't changed at all. Still didn't grasp what I wanted.
Luna, you fool. You actually thought he could completely change.
Those bloodshot eyes bored into me with devastating despair. "So what? You still won't let her know I'm her father?"
"Yes!" Fury and desperation clouded my judgment. Words I'd buried deepest erupted.
"I never planned to stay. Cassian, you think a month of tenderness changes anything? I already signed with Ballet Chicago. When this performance ends, I'm taking her and leaving, leaving this disgusting place forever!"
After the words left my mouth, I felt strangely hollow and uneasy. Because I knew I'd lied. During this time here, I'd been craving Cassian too. But I had to make the right choice.
The air froze solid.
All the noise, fury, roaring—turned to ash in the face of "leaving."
Cassian's taut body went rigid. His clenched fists slowly opened, like a statue drained of its soul.
I watched the last trace of hope in his eyes die completely.
He didn't yell. Instead, an eerie calm settled over him, born of extreme grief.
"You're leaving?" He looked at me with eyes no longer angry but fragile, mocking.
"So that's it," he murmured, voice soft as wind.
He laughed bitterly—an ugly laugh more heartbreaking than tears.
"So this whole time you've been lying to me." He said. "The dinners, the walks, that night. All fake. You never planned to stay."
"That's not—" His broken gaze made my heart clench. I knew his heart had shattered.
"Fine." He backed away one step, then another, opening distance between us. "Perfect. Luna Crawford."
"So all the tenderness, all the 'starting over'—just your stalling tactic. You're crueler than I imagined. Watching me plan our future like a fool, did you find it ironic?"
"Cassian... I didn't—" My heart contracted violently, overwhelming regret flooding through me.
"Don't explain." He cut me off, retreating another step, opening a chasm we could never cross.
He straightened his rumpled collar, becoming the cold, noble King family leader again—except for the devastating despair around his eyes.
"You win." He nodded, voice devoid of warmth, trembling slightly.
I had no words. What could I say?
He looked at me deeply one last time. Then he spun on his heel, shoes striking the floor sharply, never looking back.
I watched his retreating figure, drowning in regret. My stomach churned, throat squeezed tight, tears streaming uncontrollably. I wanted to chase him, but my legs were too weak.
In the empty hallway, his silhouette disappeared into darkness.
The engine roared outside, then faded until I heard nothing.
I thought I'd feel relief. So why did it feel like something had been carved from my chest? My throat was so tight I couldn't even cry.
I stumbled back to the dressing room, collapsing at the vanity. The woman in the mirror looked pale, eyes red.
Had I won?
I'd successfully hidden the truth for six years, kept Laila, and successfully wounded the man who'd hurt me.
Then why, watching him leave, couldn't I breathe for the pain?
Tears fell like broken pearls, splashing on the cold vanity.
Maybe leaving really was the best ending. After enduring so much, paying such a price to get here, I couldn't survive another emotional rollercoaster.
But Laila's smiling face flashed through my mind. Fear surged. Was I doing the right thing?
No. I'd done what had to be done. Besides, second-guessing was pointless now. What's done was done. And I'd never go crawling back to him—that wasn't who I was.
Since I'd chosen this path, I'd make it work. This wasn't my first crisis.
This past month could be a beautiful dream. Dreams always end.
I sat there a long time, staring blankly at the mirror. Finally, I breathed deep, swallowing the tears.
Enough. I couldn't keep falling apart—Laila needed me, my career needed maintaining, life couldn't keep disintegrating.
I didn't know what a shattered Cassian might do. The way he'd looked terrified me.
Since I'd decided to leave, I needed to sever everything quickly.
I opened my phone, found Amy's contact.
My fingers shook as I typed, "Chicago, I can go early."