The Heartbroken Luna's Choice Banish Love novel Chapter 325

Third Person's POV

No matter how much Trista struggled, Cassian was like an immovable mountain. His arms were iron shackles around her waist, crushing her against his chest.

He buried his face in her hair, greedily drinking in her scent—the pheromones that drove him wild.

"I missed you," he growled, his voice a low, bestial rasp. "My wolf cries out every day that you're gone. Once the shareholder meeting is over, I'm bringing you back to the main house for good. Okay?"

Trista actually felt a flicker of twisted admiration for him in that moment.

As an Alpha, he seemed to have a built-in sensory filter—he could ignore every "no" her body was screaming and focus entirely on the prey he wanted to control.

To him, her disgust and her struggling probably just felt like foreplay.

"Cassian, my parents' house doesn't need your scent right now. We'll talk tomorrow," Trista said, her voice like a shard of ice.

Sensing that her body was starting to physically reject his presence, Cassian finally let go, though his fingertips itched to tear down her defenses.

"Take this gift—it's marked with my scent—and I'll leave."

Desperate to get away from the suffocating pressure, Trista snatched the box.

Only then did Cassian reluctantly turn and get into his car.

He watched her through the rearview mirror, his dark gold eyes tracking her as she ran back inside. His throat tightened.

The pull of the mating bond was shredding his self-control.

He couldn't stand his Luna being out of his reach for one more second.

Three days later, at the Ironthorn shareholder meeting, Cassian looked lethal in a perfectly tailored black suit, radiating his cold, dominant aura.

He walked into the boardroom side-by-side with his father, heading straight for the head of the table.

When a few shareholders tried to grill him about his recent scandals, Cassian shut them down with cold logic and the weight of a multi-billion dollar project. The room erupted in applause.

Wilmot took the opportunity to speak up from the end of the table. "Everyone has seen Cassian's business sense. In his private life, he is just as disciplined—a devoted husband. I hope you won't be misled by trashy rumors."

The board members nodded in agreement. "The Chairman is right. An heir like Cassian is the gold standard for this circle."

Just then, an assistant burst in looking frantic and handed a sealed envelope to Cassian. "Sir, it's urgent."

He pointed a finger at Cassian, his voice lethal. "I'm telling you, Cassian—cut the tie. Now. Strip her of everything and kick her out of this pack for good!"

Cassian sat in his swivel chair, completely unbothered. "Dad, it's my mating. My call."

"Like hell it is!" Wilmot's veins were bulging.

He looked like an old, cornered lion. "Find out who that lawyer is. I want to see who in L.A. is suicidal enough to take a divorce case against the Ironthorn Alpha!"

The door slammed so hard the hallway echoed.

That evening, Trista was walking out of a grocery store when she was suddenly hauled into a car.

The driver and Humphrey stayed outside, setting up a perimeter twenty yards away.

In the back of the luxury car, their energies collided.

Trista could smell the violent, suppressed pheromones rolling off of him.

Cassian was barely holding it together, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Trista, I admit I crossed the line before. But you killed our child without telling me—that's the ultimate punishment. I gave you space, I let you move out to cool off... what more do you want from me?"