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"No." Cassie took a deep breath, her voice shaky but resolute. "I want to stay."

She sank into a chair in the corner, her hands clasped so tightly her knuckles turned white. I could see her forcing herself to watch, to face the blood and the needle, to confront the reality of my world. Every time Aisor's needle pierced my skin, her face paled a little more, but she didn't look away. She didn't leave.

My rose. That stubborn strength of hers made my heart ache and swell with pride all at once. She was tougher than I'd given her credit for.

"All done," Aisor said, packing up his tools. "Mr. Sokolov, keep the wound dry. I'll prepare light meals for you, and I'll remove the stitches in three days."

He left, and the room fell quiet, just me and Cassie. She sat there, her gaze distant, like she was still processing the blood and the stitches and the whole damn mess.

"You okay?" I asked, my voice softer than before.

Her head snapped up, her eyes meeting mine, a flicker of something complicated passing through them. "I didn't expect it to be so…" She paused, searching for the right word. "So real."

"Real?"

"The blood, the pain, all of it," she said, her voice trembling. "I knew you were hurt, but seeing the doctor clean it, seeing all that blood… it hit me that you could've—"

She didn't finish, but I knew. She'd almost lost me. That thought shook her, and it was starting to sink in just how dangerous my life was.

"This is my world," I said, my voice heavy. "This is why I don't want you anywhere near it."

She went quiet for a long time, then slowly stood and walked over to me. "Is this how you've been living all week?" Her voice was shaky, words tumbling out in a rush. "I mean, Anya hasn't been to school either, and I didn't know what to think. I was just—"

Her rambling, the worry in her voice, softened something in me. She was scared, confused, trying to make sense of it all and coming up empty.

"I've been dealing with some threats," I said, keeping it as honest as I could without dragging her deeper. "People who want to hurt me, my family. I can't let you get caught up in that."

"Threats?" she echoed, her brow furrowing. "Like what happened today?"

"Yeah." I held her gaze, willing her to understand. "Now you see why I can't tell you everything."

She nodded slowly, but her frown didn't ease. I could tell there was more she wanted to say, but she looked so damn exhausted, so pale, that I let it go. For now.

Dinner was a welcome change of pace. Anya burst into the room, her energy like a ray of sunlight cutting through the gloom.

"Miss Monroe!" she squealed, throwing herself into Cassie's arms. "I missed you so much!"

"I missed you, too, little angel," Cassie said, hugging her tightly. The warmth in her voice melted away some of the tension from earlier.

Watching them together, my daughter and my woman, safe under my roof, hit me like a punch to the chest. It was too perfect, too good to be real. My little Anya, giggling in Cassie's arms, and Cassie, smiling like the weight of the day had lifted for a moment. This was the kind of happiness I'd never dared to dream of. A quiet, fragile warmth spread through me, loosening the knots in my nerves, if only for a second. Maybe I can have this, I thought. Even if it's just for now.

"What've you been up to this week?" Cassie asked Anya, brushing a strand of dark hair from her face.

"Daddy said it wasn't safe outside, so I had to stay home," Anya said, pouting. "It was so boring. But Daddy painted with me and told me stories!"

"Your daddy loves you a lot," Cassie said, glancing at me. Her expression was hard to read—curious, searching, like she was trying to piece together who I was through Anya's eyes.

After dinner, the three of us ended up on the estate's terrace. The night sky was a blanket of stars, the city lights shimmeringin the distance like a river of gold. Anya was out like a light in no time, curled up in Aisor's arms. I nodded for him to take her to bed, leaving just me and Cassie under the moonlight.

She leaned against the railing, staring up at the stars, but I could feel the storm brewing inside her. The moonlight painted her face in soft silver, highlighting the quiet beauty in her features, but also the conflict in her eyes. There was a depth there I hadn't seen before, a mix of pain and longing that made my chest tighten.

"You know," I said, breaking the silence, my voice low in the cool night air, "I don't get to just stop and look at the stars like this often."

She turned to me, her eyes cautious but curious, a hint of something raw flickering in them.

"My childhood didn't have nights like this," I went on, staring out at the horizon. "My father was always busy, always dealing with business. I learned early on how to face the dark alone."

Cassie froze, like she hadn't expected me to open up like that.