Our Flesh and Blood

Cassian.

The sharp metallic clink of my Zippo lighter echoed in the heavy silence of my office. I clamped a cigarette between my lips, sparked the flame, and took a slow drag. I exhaled a thick ring of gray smoke toward the vaulted ceiling.

Jaxon braced his hands on his knees, panting hard as he burst through the heavy oak double doors. "We found Dominic. He was trying to slip out of the country on a cargo ship."

I took another drag of my cigarette. The bastard actually thought he could survive after attempting to harm my men. My utter boredom over the past few weeks vanished. People had been walking on eggshells around me lately, making my days tedious. I needed a target. I needed someone to punish.

"Where is he?" I asked, keeping my tone flat.

"In the torture room."

I stubbed the cigarette out in the crystal ashtray and slipped my suit jacket over my shoulders. A distraction was exactly what I needed. I took two steps toward the door when a loud, frantic shout drifted through the reinforced glass of my window.

Jaxon frowned. He stepped to the window and peered down into the fortified courtyard. "Someone is causing a massive scene downstairs. Probably one of Dominic's whores trying to beg for his life."

I did not make a habit of hurting women unless the situation required it. I walked over to the glass and looked down at the concrete lot. Two of my armed guards gripped a woman by her arms. She did not cower. She planted her feet and yanked her body backward, breaking their hold with surprising force.

Jaxon shook his head. "We need to replace those weak guards. She has some fight in her, I will give her that."

"Do not touch me! I need to see your boss. I need to see Cassian Thorne." The woman’s voice pierced through the thick glass.

Jaxon drew his gun and racked the slide. He turned toward the door, ready to silence the intruder for disrespecting my territory.

My chest tightened. An inexplicable, gut-deep familiarity locked my feet to the floor. I recognized that voice. I recognized the defiance.

"Jaxon. Do not touch her." I issued the command without taking my eyes off the courtyard.

Jaxon stared at me like I had grown a second head. I could not blame him. I had never stopped an execution order before. I turned away from the window, walked out of my office, and took the marble stairs down to the courtyard.

I stepped out into the blinding California sun. It was her. Nadia. She stood in the flesh, breathing heavily, surrounded by my lethal men. She looked different from the last time I saw her. She had gained weight in all the right places. Her hips flared out from her small waist, and her breasts looked fuller pressing against the thin fabric of her shirt. Her blonde hair was a rumpled mess, mirroring exactly how it looked when she was naked beneath me in my bed. The sight of her sent a hard rush of blood to my groin. I never desired the same woman twice. I never chased anyone. Yet I had spent the last two relentless years tearing the city apart trying to find her after she vanished without a trace following our single night together.

"You are here," she said, her chest heaving as she locked eyes with me.

I stepped forward. "Leave."

The guards offered quick bows and retreated to their posts, leaving us alone in the center of the compound. I shoved my hands into my pockets to stop myself from reaching out and wrapping her blonde hair around my fists.

"Let us go inside," I told her, gesturing toward the main doors.

She planted her feet. She refused to move. She bypassed any pleasantries or fear of her surroundings. She stared unblinking into my eyes. Her voice trembled, but iron resolve layered her words.

"Our daughter is sick, Cassian."

The world stopped spinning. The air left my lungs. I narrowed my eyes, searching her face for any sign of a lie. Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears.

"There is no time for me to explain right now. I will do that later. But you have to—"

I did not need to hear another word. I turned my head over my shoulder.

"Get my car keys, Jaxon."

Nadia sniffled, keeping her tear-filled gaze pinned to my face. "She is in Texas."

I shifted my gaze back to Jaxon. "Get the jet ready. Right now."

Within minutes, we were airborne. My private jet cut through the sky, heading directly for a rural hospital in Texas. I sat in the plush leather seat across from Nadia. My elite medical team prepped their equipment in the back cabin. Nadia sat rigid. Her hands shook hard in her lap as she fought to hold her tears back.

I stared out the window. A furious, uncharted anger boiled inside my chest. I had never felt this level of pure rage in my entire life. She had hidden my own flesh and blood from me. She kept my child a secret for two years. If anyone else had kept something that belonged to me hidden for that long, they would already be dead. I gritted my teeth, gripping the armrests until my knuckles turned white.

Nadia huffed, her voice barely audible over the hum of the engines. "I am sorry to bother you so suddenly. I just could not think of anything else to do."

I clamped my jaw shut. I refused to speak. If I opened my mouth, I would unleash a torrent of rage that would shatter her. Nadia dropped her chin to her chest and remained silent for the rest of the flight.

We landed in Texas. The pilot had a convoy waiting on the tarmac. We sped to the hospital in record time. I stormed through the sliding glass doors of the rural facility. An immediate uproar erupted. Doctors and nurses in cheap scrubs scrambled out of my way, unnerved by the sight of my men flooding their sterile hallways. I was used to the fear I commanded. I ignored them all. I was here for one thing.

A balding doctor scurried into my path, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Mr. Thorne? Is it really you? To what do we owe this honor?"

Nadia sprinted past the doctor without a glance. I shoved past the trembling man and followed her into the Intensive Care Unit.

I stepped through the doorway. I stopped breathing. I could not remember the last time I felt a genuine, positive emotion. The dark void in my chest cracked open. A profound, unfamiliar longing flooded my system. A tiny girl lay on the sterile hospital bed, hooked up to monitors.

She was mine. There was zero doubt. She possessed Nadia’s soft blonde hair, but every other facial feature mirrored my own. She had my jawline, my nose, my brow.

I stepped up to the bed. I did not hesitate. I reached down and scooped her fragile body into my arms. She was tiny. She was innocent. She felt lighter than a feather against my chest. She did not belong in a rundown rural clinic, and she certainly did not belong in my violent world. But she was my blood.

I turned to my medical team waiting in the hallway. "Prep her for transport. We are taking her back to my private hospital in Los Angeles. Move."

The return flight felt like an eternity. My doctors ran continuous tests on Cassia in the makeshift medical bay. Nadia hovered nearby, her fingers twisted together in a tight knot. The blistering rage I felt earlier had vanished inside the ICU, replaced by a fierce, undeniable paternal devotion.

We landed in Los Angeles and a private ambulance waited on the tarmac. We transferred Cassia directly to the VIP pediatric wing of my state-of-the-art medical facility. The stark white walls and the smell of industrial bleach hit my senses the moment we walked through the double doors. My top-tier specialists swarmed the private suite, hooking Cassia up to advanced monitors and initiating immediate, aggressive treatments for her leukemia. They moved with military precision. I demanded nothing but perfection when it came to my assets, and my daughter was now my most prized possession.

I brought Nadia into my private office down the hall. I shut the heavy door, sealing us inside. I leaned against the edge of my mahogany desk. Nadia stood in the center of the room. The simmering anger I had suppressed during the rescue mission clawed its way back to the surface.

"Why am I just finding out about her today?" I demanded, my voice a low, dangerous rumble.

Nadia lifted her chin. She stared straight at me. She showed no remorse. "I wanted it that way."

Her fearlessness would have turned me on in any other scenario. Right now, it only fueled the fire in my blood.

She took a step forward. "She is my daughter. I had to protect her. Letting you know about her was never going to help me do that."

"She is my daughter too. You decided I had no right to know my own child existed?" I growled, pushing off the desk.

Nadia flinched, but she held her ground.

She snapped, her breathing turning shallow. "We were never supposed to meet again after that night. Even if we did run into each other, I still would have kept her a secret. I refuse to let my daughter grow up surrounded by your violent, blood-stained world. I will not subject her to the environment I had to endure."

I clenched my hands into fists at my sides. Did she dare question my inherent ability to protect my own blood?

Nadia raised her chin, her voice spiking with defiance. "Besides, you would have coldly rejected the baby anyway. I did not need a psychic to tell me that."

Something snapped in my brain. The insult to my pride and my bloodline blinded me. I swung my bare fist downward with brutal force.

My knuckles collided with a heavy glass plaque resting on my desk. The sharp crack of shattering glass echoed like a gunshot. Shards sliced deep into my flesh. Blood spilled over the polished mahogany surface, pooling dark and thick. The sudden pain grounded my rage.

Nadia screamed.

Her fierce, defensive facade shattered into pieces. She scrambled away from the center of the room and yanked open a wooden cabinet against the wall. She grabbed a white first-aid kit with trembling hands. Tears spilled over her eyelashes and streamed down her cheeks.

She rushed to my side. She grabbed my bleeding hand, her fingers slick with my blood. She pulled a sterile cloth from the kit and pressed it against my torn knuckles. She sobbed uncontrollably. Her chest heaved as she wrapped a thick roll of gauze around my hand.

I stood frozen. I watched her tears fall onto my skin. She performed a clumsy, messy job with the bandages, but her touch remained incredibly gentle. She had acted so hardened and detached, but the sight of my blood broke her.

She wiped her face with the back of her wrist and choked out a sob. "I am sorry. I am just unusually emotional today."

She closed the first-aid kit with a soft click and pushed it aside.

"What is her name?" I asked.

Nadia paused. She kept her eyes glued to the blood-stained desk. "Cassia."

I stared at the white gauze wrapped around my hand.

Her tone spiked with instant defense. "I was not trying to name her after you. It just happened that way."

"When is her birthday?"

"April thirteenth."

I nodded slowly. I committed the date to memory. That was all the information I needed for tonight. I would learn every other detail about my daughter in due time.

My father died when I was eighteen, leaving the title of Capo directly on my shoulders. I was strictly taught from birth that attachments were fatal weaknesses. Caring for someone meant giving your enemies a target. Love got men killed. I lived by those old rules for thirty-three years. I maintained a small inner circle. I kept my distance. I never once considered building a family. Having a woman and a child meant having a vulnerability that rival families could exploit. It was a risk I swore never to take.

Those rules no longer applied. I was a father now. I possessed a daughter, and I was determined to give Cassia the entire world. The thought of any rival syndicate trying to use her against me did not invoke fear. It invoked a promise of bloodshed. I would slaughter anyone who dared look at her the wrong way. I would burn this entire city to the ground to keep her safe.

I watched Nadia tremble in front of me. She wiped fresh tears from her cheeks.

"I am sorry," she whispered, her voice cracking.

"Why are you apologizing?" I asked, tilting my head.

She looked up, her eyes wide with terror. "Do you think I will take your daughter away from you?"

"I am terrified you will do exactly that," she confessed, squeezing her eyes shut as fresh tears spilled down her face.

I crossed my arms over my chest. I towered over her. "You have taken care of her up until this moment. I will take over from here."

She grabbed the lapels of my suit jacket. Her voice broke with pure desperation. "No. You cannot do that. Cassia means everything to me, Cassian. I cannot live without her."

I looked down at the beautiful, trembling woman gripping my clothes. She kept my child a secret, and now she begged to stay in her life. I realized exactly how to handle this. I knew exactly how to bind them both to me permanently, ensuring my family remained under my roof and my protection forever.

I covered her hands with mine, gripping her fingers tight.

"I will not take her away from you on one condition," I told her. I kept my voice cold, hard, and brooking no argument. "Marry me, Nadia."