POV: Zara
The silence in Cassian's penthouse felt suffocating after Catherine left. I stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring at the city lights below, trying to process everything I'd just learned. My hand instinctively moved to my still-flat stomach.
A genetic disorder. Violence in their blood. A murdered mother.
"Zara."
Cassian's voice came from behind me, low and careful. I didn't turn around.
"Is it true?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "What she said about you. About the violence."
"Some of it."
I spun around to face him. He stood in the doorway, his dark hair disheveled, his expression unreadable. He looked so much like Jason at that moment that my stomach twisted.
"Some of it?" I repeated, my voice rising. "Which part, Cassian? The part where your father had your mother murdered? Or the part where you and Jason share some genetic curse that makes you incapable of real empathy?"
He moved toward me slowly, like I was a frightened animal that might bolt. "Catherine loves twisting the truth to suit her narrative."
"Then tell me your version!" I shouted, surprised by my own anger. "Tell me the truth, because I'm carrying your child, and I need to know what kind of monster I'm bringing into this world!"
The word monster hung in the air between us. Cassian's jaw tightened, and for a moment, I saw something flash in his eyes. Pain, maybe. Or rage.
"You want the truth?" He stopped a few feet away from me. "Fine. Yes, I've done terrible things. I've ruined people who crossed me. I've destroyed businesses, ended careers, put a man in the hospital because he dared to threaten someone I cared about."
My breath caught in my throat.
"I've had people followed, investigated, manipulated," he continued, his voice getting harder. "I've used fear as a weapon more times than I can count. And you know what? I never questioned it. Never wondered if it was something wrong in my DNA or just the choices I made."
"That's insane," I whispered.
"Is it?" He laughed bitterly. "Jason grew up with every advantage, every privilege, and he still chose to be cruel. I grew up with nothing, watching my mother die slowly because she couldn't afford proper medical care, and I chose revenge. Maybe Catherine's right. Maybe we're both broken at the genetic level."
I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling suddenly cold. "So what does that mean for our baby?"
"I don't know." His honesty surprised me. "I don't know if violence is something you're born with or something you learn. I don't know if my father was evil because of his genes or because he chose to be."
"Catherine said your father killed your mother to protect his reputation," I said quietly. "Is that true?"
Cassian's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "I've spent years trying to find proof. The official report says she died of complications from her illness. But there were inconsistencies. Medical records that disappeared. A nurse who suddenly left the country. My mother's last words to me were, 'Don't trust him. He'll destroy you like he destroyed me.'"
"Oh God." Tears burned in my eyes.
"I was fifteen when she died." His voice cracked slightly. "After that, I went into foster care. Richard never claimed me, never acknowledged me. It wasn't until his will was read that Jason even knew I existed."
I thought about the boy he must have been, alone and grieving, knowing his father had chosen another family over him. Part of me wanted to reach out and comfort him. The other part was terrified.
"I can take a genetic test," Cassian said suddenly. "If Catherine's telling the truth about some hereditary disorder, it would show up. We could know for certain."
"And if it's there?" I asked. "If the test proves you have this... this thing in your DNA?"
"Then you'll know what you're dealing with." He met my eyes. "But Zara, a test result won't change who I am. I've already done the things I've done. Maybe I'm a monster because of my genes. Maybe I'm a monster because I chose to be. Does the reason really matter?"
"Yes!" The word burst out of me. "Yes, it matters! Because if this is genetic, then our baby..." I couldn't finish the sentence.
"Might be like me," Cassian finished quietly. "Or like Jason. Or like Richard."
The full weight of it crashed over me. I'd fled from one nightmare straight into another. Jason had been cruel and unfaithful, but Cassian... Cassian admitted to being capable of real violence. And I was tied to him now, forever, through the child growing inside me.
"I need to sit down," I mumbled, feeling dizzy.
Cassian was at my side instantly, guiding me to the couch. His hands were gentle, careful. It was confusing, how someone who admitted to putting people in hospitals could touch me so softly.
"I know I'm not a good man," he said, kneeling in front of me. "I'm not going to pretend to be Jason, with his fake smiles and respectable facade. Everything dark in me is right on the surface. But I swear to you, Zara, I will never hurt you. And I will never hurt our child."
"You can't promise that," I whispered. "Not if Catherine's right. Not if it's in your blood."
"Then let me prove it." He took my hands in his. "Let me take the test. Let me show you that whatever I am, I'm choosing to protect you. Choice has to count for something."
I looked into his eyes, those dark eyes that were so similar to Jason's but somehow completely different. Jason's eyes had always been cold, calculating. Cassian held fire and fury, but also something raw and honest.
"Okay," I said. "Take the test. But Cassian, I need you to understand something. If you have this disorder, if it's real, I need to know you'll get help. See a therapist, a doctor, something."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then I can't stay here. I can't raise a child in a house with someone who won't even try to be better."
He studied my face for a long moment. "You're stronger than I thought."
"I'm terrified," I admitted. "But I'm done being weak. I was weak with Jason, and it nearly destroyed me. I won't make that mistake again."
A slight smile curved his lips. "Good. I don't want you weak. I want you exactly like this."
Before I could respond, a sharp pain lanced through my abdomen. I gasped, doubling over.
"Zara?" Cassian's voice went sharp with alarm. "What's wrong?"
"I don't... I don't know." Another cramp, stronger this time. I looked down and saw a dark stain spreading across my light grey sweatpants. Blood.
"No," I whispered. "No, no, no."
"Hospital. Now." Cassian scooped me up in his arms like I weighed nothing. "Hold on, Zara. Just hold on."
The elevator ride down felt endless. Each cramp was worse than the last, and the bleeding was getting heavier. I pressed my face against Cassian's chest, trying not to panic.
"The baby," I gasped. "Cassian, the baby."
"I know. I've got you. We're almost there."
His driver must have seen us coming because the car was already running when we burst through the lobby doors. Cassian barked an address at him, and we were speeding through the city streets.
I'd never seen Cassian truly scared before. But now, holding me in the backseat as I bled, his face was pale, his jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle jumping.
"You're going to be okay," he said, more to himself than to me. "Both of you. You have to be okay."
"What if we're not?" I whispered. "What if this is... what if I'm losing the baby?"
"Don't say that." His arms tightened around me. "Don't even think about it."
But I couldn't help thinking about it. Maybe this was for the best. Maybe a child caught between Jason and Cassian, carrying violent genes and born from trauma, was never meant to exist.
The thought made me cry harder.
The emergency room was a blur of bright lights and urgent voices. Cassian refused to put me down until the nurses physically made him, wheeling me away on a gurney. I caught one last glimpse of his face, twisted with an emotion I couldn't name, before the doors swung closed between us.
They ran tests. Draw blood. Did an ultrasound. I stared at the ceiling tiles and counted them, trying not to think about what was happening inside my body.
Finally, Dr. Morrison appeared, the same doctor who'd confirmed my pregnancy. Her expression was carefully neutral, which terrified me more than anything.
"Ms. Hartley," she said gently. "We need to talk about the baby's viability."
The world seemed to tilt sideways. I heard someone crying and realized it was me.
Through the doorway, I could see Cassian in the waiting room, standing perfectly still, his hands clenched at his sides. Our eyes met across the distance.
And in that moment, I realized something that changed everything.
I wanted this baby. Monster genes or not. Violent bloodline or not. I wanted this child. But the question was: would I get to keep it?