Chapter 41. The Confrontation

Rafa’s gym didn’t echo. Sound landed and stayed, clean and heavy, like it knew not to linger.

Cassian’s footsteps broke that rule.

The automatic doors hissed open; his boots struck the polished floor, and for the first time since the place had opened, the hum of the air system sounded nervous.

He looked wrong in that light—darker, too alive for a space designed to sterilize emotion. His jacket was still wet from rain, hair slicked back, eyes unreadable.

Rafa stood near the center ring, clipboard in hand, his expression carved from calm. The only visible reaction was the way his pen stilled mid-note.

“Vale,” he said. Not a greeting. A label.

Cassian didn’t flinch. “I came to talk.”

“You don’t make appointments, apparently.”

“Would you have accepted one?”

“No.”

Cassian’s jaw flexed. “Then this works fine.”

Rafa set the clipboard down carefully, as if even that act needed precision. “I assume this is about Lia.”