Chapter 20
Isla
Ijerked awake to the sound of screaming.
For a disorienting moment, I was back in that warehouse—concrete walls, darkness, Leo's cries echoing from somewhere I couldn't reach. Then reality snapped into focus. The soft bed beneath me. The city lights beyond the window. The penthouse.
Safe. We were safe.
But the screaming continued.
"Leo!" I threw off the covers and ran, my bare feet silent on the hardwood. His door was already open, light spilling into the hallway.
Cassian knelt beside Leo's bed, his voice low and soothing. "Hey, buddy. It's okay. You're safe. I'm right here."
"No! Bad man! He gonna—" Leo's words dissolved into sobs, his small body curled into a tight ball. His understanding was limited to knowing something scary had happened.
I rushed forward, but Cassian was already lifting him, cradling him against his chest. "Shh. No bad man. Just me. Just Cass."
Leo's arms wrapped around Cassian's neck with desperate strength. "No go 'way 'gain."
"Never." Cassian's voice was rough with emotion. "No one's taking you anywhere. I promise."
I stood frozen in the doorway, watching my son cling to his father, watching Cassian hold him with such careful tenderness. This was the same man who'd stormed a warehouse with a gun. The same man who'd nearly killed his cousin. The same man who'd been covered in blood just hours ago.
But right now, he was just a father comforting his terrified child.
"Mama?" Leo's tear-stained face turned toward me. "You're here too?"
"I'm here, baby." I moved to the bed, sitting on the edge. "We're both here."
"Mama, stay? Cass'an too?" His voice was so small, so frightened.
Cassian looked at me over Leo's head, a question in his eyes.
I nodded. "Of course we'll stay."
Cassian settled onto the bed, his back against the headboard, Leo still in his arms. I lay down on Leo's other side, and our son immediately reached for me, needing both of us close.
We stayed like that, the three of us crowded into a toddler bed clearly meant for one. Leo's breathing gradually slowed, his grip on us loosening as sleep reclaimed him. But neither Cassian nor I moved.
I watched Leo's face in the soft glow of his nightlight—the tear tracks drying on his cheeks, the way his mouth relaxed in sleep, the slight furrow between his brows that mirrored his father's.
"First nightmare since we got back," Cassian said quietly. "I was listening for it. Knew it would come."
I looked at him in surprise. "You were awake?"
"Couldn't sleep. Been watching the security feeds, making sure—" He trailed off, but I understood. Making sure no one could get to us.
"How long were you in here before I woke up?"
"A few minutes. I heard him start to whimper and came in before he fully woke." His hand gently stroked Leo's hair. "Didn't want you to have to face this alone."
My throat tightened. "Thank you."
"It'll probably happen again. Tonight. Tomorrow night. Trauma doesn't just go away."
"I know." I looked at our son, so small and vulnerable. "I just wish I could take it away. Make him forget."
"He won't forget. But he'll heal. We'll make sure of it."
We sat in silence for a while, holding hands over our sleeping son. The intimacy of the moment wrapped around us—not sexual, but something deeper. More fundamental.
"I thought I'd lost you both," I whispered. "When they separated us, when I woke up alone in that room—" My voice broke. "I thought I'd never see him again."
"You're both here now. Both safe." Cassian's thumb traced circles on my hand. "That's all that matters."
Leo stirred between us, mumbling something about dinosaurs and trains before settling back into sleep. His small hand found mine, holding on even in his dreams.
"We should probably move," I said, though I didn't want to. Didn't want to break this fragile peace we'd found.
"Five more minutes," Cassian said. "Let him sleep a little longer."
I nodded, resting my head on the pillow beside Leo's. From this angle, I could see Cassian's face clearly—the exhaustion written in the lines around his eyes, the shadow of stubble on his jaw, the careful tenderness as he watched our son sleep.
This was the man I'd been so afraid of just days ago. The man whose world I'd wanted to run from.
But he was also the man who'd torn apart a warehouse to find his son. Who'd held Leo all night through nightmare after nightmare. Who looked at me now like I was something precious he was afraid of breaking.
"Thank you," I said softly.
"For what?"
"For this. For being here. For—" I gestured vaguely at the three of us tangled together. "I know this isn't what you signed up for. The nightmares and the fear and—"
"Isla." He shifted carefully, not wanting to disturb Leo. "This is exactly what I signed up for. All of it. The good and the hard and everything in between."
Something in my chest loosened at his words. Something I'd been holding tight since the moment I'd learned what he really was.
"I should get some sleep," I said finally, though leaving felt wrong. "Leo seems settled now."
"Stay." Cassian's voice was quiet but certain. "Please. Just a little longer."
So I stayed. We both did. And when I finally drifted off, it was to the sound of Leo's soft breathing and the warmth of Cassian's hand still holding mine.
Morning light filtered through Leo's curtains, painting everything in soft gold. I woke to find Cassian already awake, watching Leo sleep with an expression I couldn't quite name.
"How long have you been up?" I whispered.
"Not long. He's been sleeping peacefully for the last hour." Cassian carefully extracted himself from the bed, wincing slightly. "I'm getting too old to sleep in a toddler bed."
I smiled despite myself. "Try being pregnant and sleeping in one."
His eyes met mine, and for a moment something passed between us—a shared understanding of all the moments he'd missed, all the nights I'd spent alone with Leo.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there," he said quietly. "For that. For all of it."
"You're here now." I sat up, careful not to wake Leo. "That's what matters."
We moved into the kitchen, leaving Leo's door cracked open so we could hear if he woke. The apartment felt different in the morning light—less like a prison, more like a home.
"Coffee?" Cassian asked, already reaching for the expensive machine.
"Please. Strong."
He worked the machine with practiced efficiency, and I found myself watching his hands. The same hands that had held a gun hours ago now measured coffee grounds with careful precision.
"What?" He'd caught me staring.
"Nothing. Just—" I shook my head. "You're different from what I expected. In a lot of ways."
He handed me a mug, our fingers brushing. "Different how?"
"Gentler. With Leo, with me." I wrapped my hands around the warm ceramic. "When I first learned what you were, I thought—I don't know. That you'd be cold. Unfeeling."
"I've spent a long time being those things." He leaned against the counter, his own mug cradled in his hands. "It's safer. Easier. When you don't let yourself feel too much, you can't be hurt."
"And now?"
"Now I feel everything. Too much, probably." His eyes found mine. "It terrifies me."
The honesty in his voice made my breath catch. This wasn't the controlled CEO or the calculating Don. This was just Cassian, vulnerable and raw.
"Pancakes!" Leo's voice broke the moment. He stood in the kitchen doorway, hair sticking up, clutching Rex. "Want din'saur pancakes!"
Cassian's expression transformed, worry melting into warmth. "Dinosaur pancakes, huh? That's a tall order."
"Please make 'em," Leo said with complete confidence. "Good at pancakes."
I saw Cassian's throat work as he swallowed. "Alright, little man. But I'm going to need help. Think you can be my assistant chef?"
Leo's face lit up. "Yes!"
I watched them work together—Leo standing on a step stool beside Cassian, carefully pouring measured ingredients into a bowl while Cassian guided his small hands. They made a mess, flour dusting the counter and somehow ending up in Leo's hair, but neither seemed to care.
"Now we add the milk," Cassian instructed. "Slow and steady."
Leo's tongue poked out in concentration, the same expression Cassian wore when focusing on something important. The resemblance caught at my heart.
"Good job, buddy. You're a natural." Cassian ruffled Leo's hair, leaving a flour handprint.
"Mama, look! Din'saurs!
"I see that." I smiled, my chest tight with something I couldn't quite name. "You two make a good team."
Cassian glanced at me, and in his eyes I saw the same question I was asking myself. Could this work? Could we actually be a family?
The pancakes were lumpy and misshapen, only vaguely resembling dinosaurs, but Leo declared them perfect. We ate at the kitchen island, Leo chattering about his favorite dinosaurs while syrup dripped onto his shirt.
Normal. It felt almost normal.
"More pancakes," Leo said, holding up his empty plate.
"Magic word?" Cassian prompted.
"Pease. Thank you!" Leo grinned. "Mama says 'portant."
"Your mama's right." Cassian served him another pancake, then met my eyes over Leo's head. "Your mama's right about a lot of things."
Something passed between us in that look. Understanding, maybe. Or the beginning of something more.
After breakfast, Leo wanted to play with his trains. Cassian sat on the floor with him, building elaborate track systems while Leo directed with absolute authority. I curled up on the couch nearby, content to watch them.
This was the man I'd been so afraid of. The one who'd forced us to move in, who'd threatened custody, who'd admitted to killing when "necessary."
But he was also the man who patiently untangled train tracks for the third time without complaint. Who laughed when Leo crashed a train into his knee. Who looked at our son like he was the answer to every question Cassian had never known to ask.
"Mama, come play!" Leo called.
I joined them on the floor, and for the next hour, we built train empires and castle towers and bridges that collapsed with satisfying crashes. Leo's laughter filled the room, bright and uncomplicated, and slowly the shadows from last night began to fade.
At one point, Cassian and I both reached for the same train piece. Our hands touched, lingered. His eyes found mine, and I saw everything he wasn't saying—the fear, the hope, the desperate wish that this could be real.
I didn't pull away. Instead, I turned my hand over, letting our fingers intertwine.
"This is nice," I said quietly.
"It is." His thumb traced my knuckles. "I could get used to this."
"Me too."
The words hung between us, heavy with possibility. Leo, oblivious, continued his elaborate train narrative about dinosaurs, rockets, and knights.
I looked at Cassian—really looked at him. Not the dangerous man or the ruthless CEO. Just him. The father playing on the floor with his son. The man who'd held my hand through nightmares. The one who made terrible pancakes but made Leo laugh.
Something warm and terrifying unfurled in my chest.
Oh no, I thought, my heart stumbling over its own rhythm. I'm falling for him.
The realization should have scared me. Maybe it did. But sitting there on the floor, our hands still touching, watching Leo play with complete joy and security, I couldn't make myself pull away.
Not from this moment. Not from this feeling.
Not from him.