Chapter 14
Morita didn't answer right away.
He stood near the kitchen counter, one hand resting on the back of a chair, eyes unfocused—not searching for words, but deciding whether they were worth saying at all.
Cassian broke the silence.
"If Rask had help," he said evenly, "then someone touched the case."
Christian watched Morita's jaw tighten.
Morita exhaled through his nose.
"Rask didn't fight it," he said. "He didn't need to."
"He made it go away."
"There was an attorney involved." A pause. "Just paperwork. And after that—nothing."
The name came last, almost reluctantly.
"Elias."
Cassian reacted instantly.
It wasn't loud. It wasn't dramatic.
Cassian's fingers curled slowly against his palm.
Christian noticed.
Morita saw it too.
His expression closed.
"That's all I'm saying," Morita said, already moving toward the door. "You shouldn't be here anymore."
He opened the door and stepped aside, not meeting either of their eyes.
The message was clear: this conversation ends here.
They didn't speak until they were back in the car.
The door shut. The engine stayed off.
Streetlight spilled across the dashboard in soft pulses, the quiet suddenly heavier without Morita's walls around it.
Cassian stared forward, jaw set.
Christian waited.
After a moment, Cassian spoke—carefully, like he was choosing which truths were safe enough to release.
"My mom's law firm didn't lose a case," he said. "Not the one I'm thinking about."
Christian turned slightly in his seat.
"It got dismantled," Cassian continued. "Stripped down. Clients gone. Partners scattered."
He swallowed once.
"One man did it."
He hesitated, then said the name—not louder than necessary.
"Twin Dragon."