Chapter 3 — The Man Cassian Never Trusted
Chapter 3 — The Man Cassian Never Trusted
The message disappeared at exactly 4:17 p.m.
Cassian stared at the blank screen.
Elena stood opposite him.
Neither spoke.
Outside the study, federal vehicles surrounded Blackwood Manor. Agents moved behind armored doors. Helicopters circled above the fog.
Inside, the atmosphere was worse.
Because the enemy had managed to enter Cassian's home, manipulate his security system, infiltrate his organization, and expose Elena's existence without firing another shot.
That meant one thing.
The enemy didn't need to break into Blackwood Manor.
They already knew how everything worked.
Cassian placed the phone on the desk.
“Who knows your real identity?”
Elena looked at him.
“Almost nobody.”
“That's not an answer.”
“It is.”
“Who?”
She hesitated.
“My brother.”
Cassian's eyes narrowed.
“Mikhail is dead.”
“Yes.”
“Your father?”
“I believed he was dead.”
“Adrian?”
“I don't know.”
Cassian leaned against the desk.
“Then someone else knows.”
Elena looked toward the window.
“Apparently.”
Cassian studied her.
“You're not surprised.”
“I've spent six years assuming someone was watching me.”
“Then why come here?”
“Because I needed something you had.”
“What?”
“Access.”
“To what?”
“Your records.”
Cassian's expression hardened.
“You've been searching my company.”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“Names.”
“Which names?”
“The people connected to the Chechnya operation.”
Cassian looked away.
He hated how easily she spoke about things that would make most people panic.
But he couldn't deny something anymore.
Elena wasn't hunting him.
She was hunting something inside his organization.
And someone had known she would eventually come looking.
Marcus entered the room.
His left arm was strapped against his chest.
He looked exhausted.
“Cassian.”
Cassian turned.
“What?”
“The federal agents want to search the entire property.”
“Let them.”
Marcus stared.
“You're serious?”
“Yes.”
“They'll find enough to put you away for the rest of your life.”
Cassian looked at him.
“Maybe.”
Marcus lowered his voice.
“What happened to protecting the organization?”
Cassian's expression hardened.
“The organization was compromised.”
Marcus glanced toward Elena.
“You think she's the reason?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Cassian didn't answer.
Marcus's eyes narrowed.
“Cassian.”
“I need everyone in this house investigated.”
Marcus stiffened.
“Everyone?”
“Everyone.”
“Even me?”
“Especially you.”
The room went silent.
Marcus stared at him.
For years, he had been Cassian's most trusted lieutenant.
The man who had taken bullets for him.
The man who had slept in the same safe houses.
The man who knew where every body was buried.
And now Cassian was looking at him like a suspect.
Marcus's face tightened.
“You think I betrayed you?”
“I think someone did.”
“And you think it's me.”
“I said everyone.”
Marcus looked at Elena.
Then back at Cassian.
“You're making a mistake.”
“Maybe.”
Marcus turned toward the door.
Before leaving, he stopped.
“Just remember something.”
Cassian looked up.
“Who was there when your father died?”
Cassian didn't answer.
Marcus continued.
“Me.”
He left.
Elena watched the door close.
“You trust him.”
Cassian shook his head.
“I used to.”
“And now?”
“I don't know.”
Dante entered minutes later.
He placed a folder on the desk.
“We found something.”
Cassian opened it.
Inside were transaction records.
“What's this?”
“Transfers from one of our shell companies.”
Cassian scanned the pages.
“Where?”
“Russia.”
His eyes narrowed.
“How much?”
“Three million over six months.”
“To whom?”
Dante pointed to the final page.
Cassian's face became cold.
The recipient was a company registered under the name:
Rostov Strategic Holdings.
Elena went completely still.
“That isn't my family.”
Cassian looked at her.
“You recognize the name?”
“No.”
Dante frowned.
“Then why does the company use your surname?”
Elena shook her head.
“Rostov is common.”
Dante looked at Cassian.
“But this company was incorporated nineteen years ago.”
Elena's expression changed.
Nineteen years.
The same year her father supposedly died.
Cassian noticed.
“You said your father died nineteen years ago.”
“Yes.”
“And this company appeared that same year.”
“Yes.”
Cassian looked at Dante.
“Find the original incorporation documents.”
Dante nodded.
“And the owner?”
Cassian said:
“Everything.”
Two hours later, the answer came.
Dante returned with another file.
He placed it in front of Cassian.
“We have the owner.”
Cassian opened it.
Then froze.
Elena watched him.
“What?”
Cassian didn't answer.
She took the file.
Her eyes moved across the page.
Then stopped.
Registered Director: Viktor Rostov.
Her father.
Elena couldn't breathe.
“No.”
Cassian looked at her.
“This company was active until three years ago.”
“That isn't possible.”
“Why?”
“Because my father died nineteen years ago.”
Dante spoke quietly.
“According to this, he didn't.”
Elena closed the file.
“It's forged.”
“Maybe,” Cassian said.
“Someone is using his name.”
“Maybe.”
“You don't believe me.”
“I believe you don't know.”
Elena stared at him.
That answer hurt more than she expected.
Cassian noticed.
“I didn't say you're lying.”
“You don't have to.”
He stepped closer.
“I don't trust anyone.”
“Not even yourself?”
He looked at her.
“Especially not myself.”
For the first time, Elena understood why Cassian was so difficult to read.
He wasn't cold because he lacked emotion.
He was cold because he had learned that every attachment could become a weapon.
That night, Cassian summoned the inner circle.
Marcus.
Dante.
Four senior captains.
Two financial advisers.
And Elena.
She stood near the wall.
Still wearing the gray uniform.
Cassian looked around the room.
“Someone has been stealing from us.”
No one moved.
“Someone has been feeding information to Viktor Volkov.”
Silence.
“Someone helped Adrian Vale enter this property.”
Marcus folded his arms.
“Then find him.”
“I intend to.”
Cassian placed the Rostov documents on the table.
“This company has received three million dollars from our organization.”
One captain frowned.
“What does that have to do with us?”
“It uses Elena's family name.”
All eyes turned toward her.
Elena remained still.
Cassian continued.
“And it has existed for nineteen years.”
Marcus looked at Elena.
“You knew about this?”
“No.”
“Convenient.”
Cassian's eyes snapped toward him.
“Careful.”
Marcus raised his hands.
“I'm asking a question.”
“No.”
Marcus stared at Elena.
“You've been inside this house for eight months.”
“Yes.”
“You knew our security.”
“Yes.”
“You knew our routes.”
“Yes.”
“You had access to the office.”
“Yes.”
“You could have created this company.”
Elena looked at him.
“I was eight years old nineteen years ago.”
Marcus paused.
Dante looked down.
One of the captains muttered:
“She has a point.”
Marcus didn't respond.
Cassian looked around the table.
“That's enough.”
Then he saw something.
A tiny mark on the document.
A notary seal.
Cassian knew it.
He had seen it before.
On his father's private contracts.
He picked up the page.
“Who notarized this?”
Dante checked.
“Harold Voss.”
Cassian's expression changed.
“No.”
Marcus noticed.
“What?”
Cassian stood.
“Harold Voss died twelve years ago.”
Silence.
Dante looked at the document.
“Then someone forged his seal.”
Cassian looked at Elena.
“No.”
Elena frowned.
“What?”
Cassian turned the document over.
The ink on the back was still fresh.
“This wasn't created nineteen years ago.”
He pointed at the paper.
“It's new.”
Elena stared.
“Someone created this company recently.”
Cassian nodded.
“And backdated it.”
The room went silent.
The implication was terrifying.
Someone wasn't simply using Elena's father's name.
They were rewriting history.
Later that night, Elena found Cassian alone in the library.
He stood beside the window.
“You knew my father.”
She hadn't expected the question.
“No.”
“Then why did you react when you saw his name?”
Cassian looked at her.
“Because my father mentioned him.”
Elena stepped closer.
“When?”
“Years ago.”
“What did he say?”
Cassian hesitated.
“He said Viktor Rostov was dead.”
Elena's heart raced.
“Why would your father know that?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
Cassian's jaw tightened.
“You're accusing me?”
“Yes.”
He looked at her.
Then slowly nodded.
“Fine.”
He walked toward a locked cabinet.
Opened it.
Removed a thin file.
He placed it on the table.
Elena opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Her father.
Cassian's father.
And Adrian Vale.
Standing together.
Elena's hands began to shake.
“When was this taken?”
“Twenty years ago.”
“Where?”
“Prague.”
She looked at Cassian.
“What were they doing?”
“Negotiating.”
“About what?”
Cassian looked away.
“I don't know.”
“Then why do you have this?”
“My father left it behind.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
Elena stared at the photograph.
Three men.
Her father.
Cassian's father.
Adrian Vale.
Together.
Before Mikhail's death.
Before the Chechnya operation.
Before Elena's entire life collapsed.
Then she noticed something else.
A fourth person stood behind them.
A woman.
Her face was partially hidden.
Elena moved closer.
Her breath caught.
She knew that face.
“No.”
Cassian looked at her.
“Who is she?”
Elena touched the photograph.
“My mother.”
Cassian froze.
“You said your mother died.”
“She did.”
“When?”
“Nineteen years ago.”
Cassian looked at the photograph again.
“Then why is she here?”
Elena couldn't answer.
Because the photograph had just destroyed everything she believed about her childhood.
Her father had not simply disappeared.
Her mother had not simply died.
Someone had lied.
Someone had erased them.
And the lie went directly through Cassian's family.
At 2:03 a.m., Dante came running into the library.
“Cassian.”
“What?”
“We have a problem.”
Cassian turned.
“What?”
“Marcus is gone.”
Cassian's expression changed.
“When?”
“Twenty minutes ago.”
“Where?”
“He left through the east gate.”
“Why?”
“He said he had an appointment.”
Cassian's eyes hardened.
“Who authorized it?”
“No one.”
Elena looked at Cassian.
He looked back.
Neither needed to say it.
Marcus was gone.
The man Cassian had trusted for years had disappeared without permission on the same night they discovered the forged Rostov company.
Cassian reached for his phone.
“Track him.”
Dante shook his head.
“We can't.”
“Why?”
“His phone was destroyed.”
Cassian stared.
Elena spoke quietly.
“That's not good.”
“No,” Cassian said.
“It isn't.”
Three hours later, they found Marcus's vehicle.
Abandoned.
Engine running.
Driver's door open.
No blood.
No body.
Just a single envelope on the passenger seat.
Cassian opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
The same photograph from the library.
But this version had something written across the back.
Cassian turned it over.
Six words.
YOU NEVER KNEW YOUR FATHER.
Elena read them.
Then another piece of paper fell out.
A handwritten message.
She picked it up.
Her face went pale.
Cassian saw.
“What?”
She handed it to him.
He read it.
Ask Elena why her mother was alive after the funeral.
Cassian slowly looked at Elena.
She stared at the darkness beyond the windshield.
“My mother…”
Her voice broke.
“She was alive?”
Neither spoke.
Then Cassian's phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
No voice.
Only breathing.
Then a recording began.
A woman's voice.
Soft.
Frightened.
But unmistakable.
“Elena…”
Elena stopped breathing.
She knew that voice.
Her mother.
The recording continued.
“If you're hearing this…”
A pause.
“…your father didn't betray you.”
Elena covered her mouth.
Cassian stared at her.
The woman's voice whispered:
“He was trying to save you.”
The recording ended.
Then a man's voice replaced it.
Cold.
Calm.
Familiar.
Adrian Vale.
“And now, Elena…”
A pause.
“…you'll finally learn why.”
The call disconnected.
For several seconds, neither Elena nor Cassian moved.
Then Elena looked at him.
“I need to find my mother.”
Cassian nodded.
“We will.”
“You don't understand.”
“I do.”
“No.”
Her eyes filled with anger.
“I spent nineteen years believing she was dead.”
Cassian stepped closer.
“She may still be.”
Elena stared at him.
“But now we know someone wants you to believe she wasn't.”
She swallowed.
“What does that mean?”
Cassian looked toward the dark road.
“It means someone is controlling what we know.”
He turned back to her.
“And whoever controls the story…”
His voice hardened.
“…controls the war.”
A vehicle suddenly appeared in the distance.
Headlights.
Fast.
Coming directly toward them.
Cassian reached for his weapon.
Elena did the same.
The vehicle stopped.
The door opened.
A man stumbled out.
Blood covered his shirt.
He collapsed onto the pavement.
Dante ran toward him.
Cassian followed.
Elena stayed behind for one second.
Something about the man looked familiar.
Then she realized why.
It was Marcus.
Alive.
Barely.
Cassian knelt beside him.
“Marcus.”
Marcus opened his eyes.
His lips moved.
Cassian leaned closer.
“What happened?”
Marcus whispered one word.
“Adrian.”
Cassian's face hardened.
“Where is he?”
Marcus struggled to breathe.
“Not…”
He coughed.
“…Adrian.”
Cassian frowned.
“What?”
Marcus grabbed his jacket.
“The man you think is Adrian…”
His eyes moved toward Elena.
“…isn't Adrian.”
Elena froze.
Marcus's grip weakened.
“He's…”
Then he passed out.
Cassian looked at Elena.
Neither spoke.
Because somewhere in the darkness, someone had just rewritten the truth again.
May you like
And this time, the name they had been hunting for six years…
might never have belonged to the man they thought it did.
