The rain hadn't let up for hours. It came down in sheets over the glass-paneled office, turning the world outside into a blurred mess of lights. Inside, the silence was stifling.
Cassian stood behind his desk, shoulders taut as steel cables. The late-night reports were scattered like wounds across the polished surface—declining shares, frozen accounts, whispers of insider betrayal. His empire, once untouchable, was beginning to fracture.
And he hated how he needed Riven now more than ever.
The door opened without a knock.
Riven entered, soaked from the downpour, silver strands clinging to his cheeks like wet silk. His dark eyes flicked toward the chaos on the desk, then back to Cassian. "They moved faster than you thought."
"I know who's behind it," Cassian muttered. "Valen's fingerprints are all over this."
Riven stepped closer, the scent of rain and smoke trailing him. "So what's your move?"
Cassian didn't answer right away. He looked at Riven—not just as a strategist or protector, but as the one constant when everything else was slipping. The ache in his chest bloomed sharp and sudden.
"I'm losing everything," he whispered, "except you."
Riven froze. Something passed between them—unspoken, dangerous, electric.
Without another word, Cassian walked around the desk, slowly, deliberately. When he reached Riven, he cupped his jaw with a trembling hand. "Tell me I haven't already lost you too."
Riven's breath hitched. "You couldn't lose me if you tried."
And then they collided—like flint and spark.
Cassian crushed their mouths together, hungry, reckless. Riven gripped his shirt, pulling him in with that kind of fury that came from jealousy, pain, and devotion. Every kiss was a question, every answer spoken in fevered breaths and the tightening clutch of desperate hands.
Cassian backed him into the glass wall, uncaring of the rain-smeared view beyond. Lightning illuminated their tangled silhouettes, painting them in flashes of silver. Fingers skimmed skin, tracing heat along sharp hips and trembling spines.
"Don't hold back," Riven growled against his lips.
Cassian didn't.
What followed was not just desire—it was war. A battle fought on skin, in sighs and moans and the frantic undoing of buttons. The world beyond the office disappeared. All that existed were their shadows dancing in the storm, teeth grazing throats, nails digging into backs, and mouths exploring with bruising hunger.
Riven bit Cassian's shoulder hard enough to mark him. "Mine," he rasped.
Cassian only gasped, grabbed his face, and kissed him deeper—possessive, raw. "Yours."
After, the storm outside finally calmed.
They lay tangled on the plush sofa, the glow from the desk lamp casting their bodies in golden sheen. Cassian rested his head on Riven's chest, listening to his heartbeat like a tether. Riven ran fingers through his hair, slower now, almost tender.
"Everything might fall apart," Cassian murmured.
"Let it," Riven replied, voice low. "I'll still be here."
Cassian closed his eyes, the weight of the world momentarily lifted by the warmth of one person who never left.
But outside their sanctuary, the city turned restless. And Valen was watching… waiting.
The price of intimacy, after all, was never just love.
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