When Love Finds Its Way Back (Cassienne and Dreston) novel Chapter 232

Chapter Two Hundred And Thirty–Two: To Protect The Rhode’s Legacy.

“I thought you were staying for the week. What changed?” Justice Elena’s voice was calm, but it carried the weight of an interrogation.

Since uncovering the Auralink files, Ray had been a ghost of himself. It wasn’t merely his loyalty to Dreston driving him; it was a sudden, fierce need to shield Cassienne. He knew exactly what she had endured, and he couldn’t simply stand by while the shadows of the past crept back toward her.

He was dressed in a sharp, tailored suit–a stark contrast to his usual casual attire–yet he wore the formality like a second skin. He moved with a restless energy, shoving his belongings back into a leather suitcase. Only twenty–four hours ago, he had neatly organized his wardrobe in the guest closet, expecting a long stay. Now, Southvale was calling him back like a siren.

“Mother, I don’t know how you’re rationalizing this, but these people are my family,” Ray said, his voice tight. “I won’t sit here and watch them be dismantled.”

“And why do you think Joseph made sure I was the one handling this case?”

Ray straightened abruptly, turning to face his mother with a look of pure disbelief. “He knows?”

“Of course he knows,” she replied, stepping away from him to settle onto the velvet chaise lounge. “He’s the one who brought the case to me. Joseph didn’t want his family touched by this, so he came to me for discretion. This investigation is classified, Ray. I’ve told you once, and I will not tell you again: do not do anything reckless.”

Ray sank onto the edge of the bed, his mind churning. “I see his angle. Dreston is already at his breaking point, and Cassienne… She’s pregnant. Given everything she’s survived lately, the stress of a reopened investigation could be catastrophic.”

“Exactly. Now you’re beginning to understand the delicacy of the situation,” Elena said. “Furthermore, if whoever is digging into this buried case actually had anything substantial, Auralink would already be facing a lawsuit. Joseph knows the risks, but he also knows that if this ever reaches a courtroom, I’ll be the one behind the bench. I doubt it will ever get that far.”

“I see.” Ray’s shoulders dropped, the fight momentarily draining out of him. “I just felt like I had to do something. Anything.”

“There is nothing for you to do, son. Joseph is a strategist; he wouldn’t have come to me if he didn’t already have a contingency plan. If he knows someone is probing his company, he’s already three steps ahead of them.”

“But what is the end goal?” Ray asked, his brow furrowed. “And why is this so intertwined with Cassienne’s parents?”

Elena sighed, a rare flicker of fatigue crossing her face. “All I know for certain is that Emily and James Rhode were senior technical experts at Auralink during that window. They weren’t the only ones; several couples were employed there at the time. This entire mess seems to center on those pairs. Joseph isn’t trying to save his company, Ray. He’s trying to protect the Rhode’s legacy.”

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Chapter Two Hundred And Thirty–Two To Protect The Rhode’s Legacy

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In the stifling silence of Southvale, Tina sat surrounded by a sea of paper. Her eyes ached from hours of reviewing technical jargon and redacted memos, but the one piece of evidence she needed–the kill shot -remained hidden.

“Useless garbage,” she hissed, swiping a stack of papers off her desk.

Since her parents had whispered that final, jagged secret to her, Tina had become a woman possessed. The bitterness of her dismissal from Auralink had fermented into a toxic need for retribution. She didn’t just want her job back; she wanted to see Cassienne Rhode’s world reduced to ash.

She had been clawing through the dark for weeks, trying to reach files that had been dead and buried for a generation. She had enough to bruise Auralink, but she wanted to break them. She needed the specific file on James Rhode–the one that proved the lie.

“I am surrounded by incompetence!” Tina screamed at the empty room. “Why am I paying these bottom- feeders if they can’t find a single original signature?”

Her hands shook as she dialed the number. It rang out twice before a man’s weary voice answered.

“I don’t care what your excuses are,” Tina spat before he could speak. “The files you sent today are duplicates. I told you I wanted Rhode’s signatures. I told you I wanted the technical overrides. Do you think I’m running a charity? Do your job!”

“Listen to me,” the man replied, his voice cold and final. “There are vaults we can’t touch. I’ve given you everything that isn’t under federal lock and key. Don’t call this number again. We’re done.”

The line clicked shut.

For a moment, Tina couldn’t even breathe. The rejection felt like a physical blow, a wall of silence rising up to protect the very people she hated. A primal, guttural scream tore from her throat as she hurled her phone against the wall. It shattered with a satisfying crack, glass spraying across her rug like diamonds.

“Idiots! You’re all useless!” she shrieked, her voice cracking. She began to sob, but it wasn’t a soft sound; it was a jagged, angry convulsion. She swiped at her face, her nails accidentally catching her cheek, but she didn’t care about the sting.

She stood up, her legs wobbling, and reached for the silver–framed photo on her nightstand. The couple in the picture looked so happy–so safe. Tina’s thumb traced the glass over their faces as a fresh wave of agony crashed over her.

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