Rowan
Rowan unlocked the door to his apartment, his shoulders sagging as he finally stepped inside. The weight of the day clung to him, a heaviness that hadn't quite lifted even when he left Ethan's apartment. He paused briefly in the doorway, exhaling as he glanced around the familiar warmth of his home. The scent of vanilla from one of Cass's candles hit him almost instantly, and for the first time all evening, he let himself relax—just a little.
As expected, Cass was waiting for him, curled up in her usual spot on the couch, a blanket draped over her legs and a book resting on her lap. She looked up as soon as she heard the door, her expression softening when her eyes met his.
"Hey," she greeted, setting the book aside. "You're late."
"Yeah," Rowan replied, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over the back of a nearby chair. "It's been… a day."
Cass tilted her head, watching him as he made his way over to the armchair across from her. He didn't sit right away, instead hovering for a moment like he was debating whether to speak. Cass patted the couch beside her. He sit down pulling her into his arms.
"Want to talk about it?" she asked gently.
Rowan ran a hand through his hair with a tired expression. "Ethan left the hospital today," he said, leaning back against the coach.
"What? He was discharged already?" Cass asks astonished.
"No, he told the doctor he is leaving, so he left." Rowan said. "But that is not all, you'll never guess who he's living with now."
Cass blinked, her brow furrowing. "Living with? Ethan? Did I hear that right?"
"Yup." Rowan smirked, despite himself. "It's new. As in, it just happened."
She raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Okay, spill. Who's the lucky person?"
"Elena King," Rowan said, his voice casual, though he couldn't help the slight amusement that crept in.
Cass's jaw dropped slightly before she let out a disbelieving laugh. "You're joking. That Elena King? CEO of EK Enterprises, terrifyingly efficient, takes-no-prisoners Elena King? She's living with Ethan?"
"His new fiancé, yes, that's the one," Rowan confirmed, leaning back with a shrug.
Cass stared at him, still processing. "How did you manage to keep a straight face through that?"
"Barely," Rowan admitted, his smirk widening. "You should've been there. The way they went back and forth—it was like watching two rocks grind against each other, both too stubborn to budge."
Cass couldn't help but laugh at the mental image. "How on earth did she agree to it? I thought Ethan barely tolerated being around people, let alone having someone live in his space."
"He wore her down," Rowan said simply. "He insisted it was safer for her. Apparently, she refused extra guards, so this was his solution. She didn't like it, but I guess she figured it was the lesser of two evils."
Cass shook her head, still smiling in disbelief. "I can't imagine Elena taking orders from anyone, not even Ethan Frost."
Rowan chuckled softly. "Oh, she didn't take it quietly, trust me. She made him work for it. But…" He hesitated, his tone softening. "It's not just about her safety. Ethan's been… different lately. He's carrying a lot, and maybe—just maybe—this could be good for him."
Cass's smile faded slightly, replaced with a look of gentle curiosity. "You really think so?"
Rowan nodded, his gaze growing distant. "Today, when they were talking… she wasn't the Elena King we're used to. She tried to hide it but she wasn't the tough, untouchable CEO. She looked… worried. Unsettled, even. And Ethan noticed. I could tell."
Cass tilted her head thoughtfully. "Worried about what?"
"Well, it can be because her life is in danger or maybe she is just worried about him," Rowan said. "He still doesn't look great, even if he's pretending otherwise."
Cass gave him a long, considering look. "You think this living arrangement will actually help?"
Rowan shrugged, though there was a flicker of hope in his eyes. "I don't know. But maybe. They're both under so much pressure all the time, and they're not exactly great at letting people in. Maybe being stuck in the same space will force them to drop the act—at least a little."
Cass smiled faintly, resting a hand on his arm. "You care about him."
Rowan laughed softly, though the warmth in his expression was unmistakable. "He's my best friend. Of course I do."
"Well, for what it's worth," Cass said, her voice gentle, "I hope you're right. Maybe they both just need someone who sees them for who they are, not what they represent."
Rowan's smile grew, a quiet kind of gratitude settling over him. "Yeah," he murmured. "Maybe."
For a moment, neither of them spoke, the soft hum of the apartment filling the comfortable silence. Rowan leaned back in his chair, letting his eyes drift to the window as his thoughts lingered on Ethan and Elena. Hope wasn't something he let himself indulge in often—life didn't usually make room for it.
Rowan barely had time to let the flicker of hope settle in his chest before his phone vibrated sharply against the table. He sighed, dragging a hand over his face as he reached for it. Cass watched him carefully, her fingers curling slightly around the fabric of her blanket, sensing the shift before he even answered.
He glanced at the caller ID—Dominion Operations. His stomach tightened.
"Rowan," he answered, his voice steady despite the unease creeping up his spine.
"We found the attacker," came the curt reply, straight to business. No preamble, no unnecessary details.
Rowan sat up straighter, tension bracing his muscles. "And?"
"Dead. The body was discovered in a motel room not far from the scene of the attack. The initial observations suggest it was an apparent suicide."
The words hit like a punch to the ribs, but he didn't let them show. His fingers curled tightly around the phone, his voice level. "You sure it wasn't staged?"
"No signs of struggle. No forced entry. We're still running analysis, but initial findings suggest he took his own life. It looks like he drank a cyanide pill."
Rowan exhaled slowly, pressing the heel of his palm against his forehead. "Who was he?"
"Identified as Mark Leston—a bank cashier"
Rowan frowned, suspicion flickering behind his eyes. "That's not exactly the profile of someone hired to take out the heir to the Dominion."
"That's what we thought too," the voice on the other end admitted. "We looked into his history, he was reported for money laundering, but no charges were filed yet. It may be the reason why he accepted a job like that. He needed money. But there's more. When we reached his residence… the house was burned down."
Rowan swore under his breath, earning a concerned look from Cass.
"No traces left?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
"Nothing salvageable. The fire was controlled enough to destroy evidence but not enough to spread beyond the property."
Rowan leaned back, gripping the phone tighter. "Which means someone cleaned up after him."
"Exactly."
Cass sat forward, sensing the gravity of the call. Rowan glanced at her briefly, the tension settling deeper into his shoulders. This wasn't over—not by a long shot.
"Send me the details," he muttered, already preparing himself for the long night ahead.