The Heartbroken Luna's Choice Banish Love novel Chapter 374

Third Person's POV

Cassian went rigid, the very last thread of his restraint snapping.

Wynn was powerless to stop a top-tier Alpha in a total tailspin. She could only watch as he tore through the closet like a trapped beast.

"She spent six months of her salary to buy you those cufflinks, and you didn't even look at them. Do you have any idea how much that hurt her?"

Wynn's voice was thick with tears. "You ignored her when she was right in front of you, and now you're putting on this act? For who? Grow up, Cassian!"

"Shut up!" Cassian whipped around, snarling.

The corners of his eyes were a bloody red, but his expression was stuck in a state of delusional high. "She's just trying to get a rise out of me. She's waiting for me to beg. She'll come back. She has to!"

Wynn felt a wave of hopelessness wash over her. He was living in a fantasy.

She backed toward the door, her voice turning cold. "Grandpa said you have to visit him tonight. No more excuses."

Before leaving, she pulled Paisley aside and told him to keep a 24-hour watch on Cassian. She was genuinely afraid he was about to completely self-destruct.

10:00 AM, when Humphrey pushed open the office door, he was hit by a wave of sub-zero pressure so intense it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

Cassian was buried in his massive executive chair, his sharp suit barely containing his exhausted frame.

His head was tilted back, eyes closed, but the pheromones rolling off him were like a freezing tide, making it hard to breathe.

Humphrey held his breath and set the files down as quietly as possible. He bit the bullet and lowered his voice. "Alpha Cassian, it's confirmed. Alistair was definitely ambushed."

Cassian slowly opened his eyes. A flash of lethal intent flickered in his dark pupils.

"The R.M. Syndicate is behind it," Humphrey continued. "Those lunatics think they can play outside the rules. They're dead set on tearing a piece out of this territory."

Cassian sat up straight, crossing his long fingers. He looked as cold and immovable as a stone carving.

Noon, at the healing center parking lot, Trista spotted the familiar Rolls-Royce Cullinan and tapped on the window.

Cassian lowered the glass, his bottomless eyes locking onto her. "Get in."

"We can talk right here." Trista stood a good two feet from the door, drawing a very clear line in the sand.

Cassian's brow furrowed, and his aura instantly flooded the car. "Are you getting in on your own, or am I coming out there to carry you?"

Trista could feel the erratic, dangerous edge to his energy. She knew he was on the verge of losing it, so she reluctantly sat in the passenger seat.

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