Bound By A Broken Night novel Chapter 38

Chapter 38

But they had never been disposable.

No one–no family–had the right to decide who was allowed to live and who could be erased without consequence.

And if she uncovered even the smallest shred of truth one thread tying them to her mother’s death–she would pull it apart piece by piece.

Justice would be hers to claim. No matter the cost.

They were both lost in their own thoughts when a sharp knock cut through the quiet.

As if by habit, Cassie and Zandrie looked at each other first—an unspoken exchange of understanding–before Cassie rose smoothly from her chair and moved to the couch near the

window.

At the same time, Zandrie slid into the CEO’s chair she had just vacated, his posture shifting effortlessly back into executive mode.

“Come in,” Zandrie called.

The door swung open.

“Drie-” Jameson stepped inside, then stopped short when he noticed Cassie. A flicker of surprise crossed his face before he recovered quickly.

“Hello, Cassie,” he said, dipping his head in a polite nod. “Good to see you again.”

“Likewise, Jameson,” Cassie replied easily, her tone neutral but courteous.

With the brief exchange done, Jameson turned his attention back to Zandrie and walked toward the desk, a thin folder tucked under his arm.

“I brought something you might want to see,” he said, placing the folder in front of Zandrie.

“Dad asked you to review this before he brings it to the board.”

Zandrie opened the folder, scanning the first few pages while Jameson took the chair opposite him.

“It’s a motor vehicle spare parts manufacturing company,” Jameson explained.

“On the brink of bankruptcy.”

Zandrie’s eyes moved quickly, sharp and assessing.

“A collaborative fund proposal,” Jameson continued, leaning back in his chair.

“Sixty percent guaranteed shares. Not a bad deal at all.”

Zandrie paused, his fingers tapping once against the paper as he weighed the implications.

Chapter 38

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From the couch, Cassie appeared absorbed in the magazine resting on her lap, turning a page with unhurried ease. Yet her attention was nowhere near the glossy pages–every word, every shift in tone at the desk registered with razor clarity.

“I looked into the company,” Jameson went on.

“They still have substantial liquid assets. What they lack isn’t potential–it’s capital. They need funding to modernize their resources and keep up with rapidly evolving technology.”

Zandrie hummed in acknowledgment.

“But there’s a downside,” Jameson added.

That single phrase drew both Cassie’s and Zandrie’s attention at once.

“It’s overseas,” Jameson continued.

“If you want any direct involvement in management, you’d be looking at a twelve–hour flight each time.”

“That won’t be an issue,” Zandrie said after a brief pause. “As long as the company itself is reputable.”

His gaze flicked toward Cassie–not for permission, but for instinct, for the quiet cue he had come

to trust.

Cassie closed the magazine slowly and rested it on her lap.

“What city?” she asked.

Zandrie’s eyes skimmed the document again.

“Bay City.”

–

The moment the words left his mouth, his gaze lifted and collided with Cassie’s.

Surprise flashed across her features before she masked it, but not fast enough.

Her body went still.

Bay City.

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