Lyra's POV – Admin Floor
The building felt too quiet for a Tuesday.
She walked through the admin wing with a mug she hadn't filled, half-aware of the muted hum of conversation around her. Everything looked the same. Fluorescents, muted wall art, the scent of toner and recirculated air. But it didn't feel the same.
Not to her.
Talia found her by the vending machines.
"You're tense," she said instead of hello.
"I'm fine."
"You're chewing the inside of your cheek like it owes you money."
Lyra stopped. Swallowed. "Just… keeping my head down."
Talia raised an eyebrow. "Keeping your head down doesn't usually come with executive clinic authorizations and personal dinner invitations from the Dorne matriarch."
She held up a protein bar. "You want this?"
"I'm not hungry."
"Okay, now I know you're lying."
Lyra didn't argue.
Talia let it go. For now.
---
Theo's POV – Upper South Corridor
He stood near the wide curve overlooking the central garden, folder in hand, unread.
From here, he could see both the executive entrance and the lift banks leading to Strategy.
And today, for the third time this week, he watched a pause he wasn't supposed to notice.
Cassian. His head turned slightly. Eyes tracking something, or someone, out of frame. Then quickly back to neutral.
Theo followed the direction.
Lyra. Talking to Michael. Holding a file. Laughing softly.
Cassian's jaw moved just enough to clench.
Theo tucked that in the back of his mind.
Another marker. Another quiet shift.
---
Cassian's POV – Executive Office
He signed three reports, dictated notes for another, and sent a request to Legal to pre-review the Triven bid. None of it stuck. His focus was a murmur.
She had been quiet since Sunday.
Still warm in her messages. Still steady in her work. But quieter.
Letizia hadn't sent a follow-up after the dinner. She didn't need to.
Cassian could guess her thoughts.
He opened Lyra's latest report. Her project work was clean. Crisp language, layered strategy, confident in a way that hadn't existed a month ago.
He should have sent it to Distribution already.
But he lingered on the last line. A final sentence phrased with unshakable control.
And in it, he saw her again.
Not just her work.
Her.
He pushed the keyboard away. Stood. Didn't know where he was going. Until he saw her name on the meeting list.
He added himself quietly to the attendee file.
Just to listen.
---
Lyra's POV – Strategy Conference Room
Her pen stuttered once on the notepad when she saw his name.
She didn't flinch. Didn't react.
But her skin prickled beneath her blouse.
He sat across the room. No questions. Just presence. Measured. Calm.
But she could feel the tension in his stillness. Like a wire drawn tight.
Michael did most of the presenting. Lyra filled in the gaps.
Halfway through, a question came from senior audit. Lyra fielded it before Michael could step in.
Cassian watched her the entire time.
Not like a man gauging a staffer.
Like someone looking for proof of something he already knew.
---
Talia's POV – Admin Floor Breakroom
She poured tea she wouldn't drink. Watched the microwave spin nothing.
Theo entered without looking at her.
Talia glanced sideways. "You've been quiet."
"You've been pushy."
"Comes with the job."
Theo stood beside her. Neutral stance. Voice soft.
"Your friend needs to make a decision. Before someone makes it for her."
Talia exhaled. "She's not ready."
"She doesn't have time."
"She's scared."
"She should be."
That silenced her.
Theo shifted. Finally looked her way. "You didn't tell her what happened last week?"
Talia frowned. "What?"
He hesitated. Then:
"The board received a tip. Anonymous. That there's a conflict of interest brewing in Strategic. No name, just enough smoke."
Talia went still.
Theo didn't blink. "If someone's watching, she needs to move. Quietly. Or it'll get louder."
Talia swallowed. "So does your boss."
Theo looked down. "He already has."
---
Cassian's POV – Penthouse
The message came after hours.
> From: Board Secretary
Re: Anonymous inquiry – Strategic Oversight Personnel Conflict
Meeting proposed: Week 13
He didn't respond.
He didn't have to yet.
But the clock had started.
And he knew. This wasn't going to be solved with a denial or a file redirection. Not this time.
He stepped out into the cool air.
It was almost dark.
He pulled his phone out. Opened her message from earlier.
It had been short.
> L: Report sent. Hope your evening's quiet.
He typed.
> C: Not quiet. Not bad either. Better now.
Three dots appeared.
Then:
> L: Did something happen?
He stared at the screen.
Then typed:
> C: Not yet. But it might.
> L: Should I be worried?
> C: No. I will be. That's enough.
He didn't send anything else.