Cassian's expression darkened further as he continued, "Make sure she goes directly to her aunt's house and comes straight back. If she makes a single detour, I want to know about it."
"Yes, sir."
"And block every flight leaving the city." His tone sharpened. "Private or commercial. Also keep a close watch on everyone she knows."
His eyes narrowed dangerously.
"She's not allowed to escape."
Jake gave a firm nod, understanding the seriousness behind the order.
"Understood, Mr. Han. I'll take care of it immediately."
Cassian didn't respond. He turned back toward the window, watching the cab disappear down the street. The movement outside cast fleeting reflections across his face, but nothing softened the hard, unreadable expression etched into his features. He stood there long after the vehicle had vanished from view, his gaze lingering on the empty road it had left behind.
Chapter 22 The Gray Manor
Juliet pushed through the doors of Gray Manor and stepped inside.
The house was quiet, but it was far from still. Servants moved through the halls carrying trays, arranging flowers, and tending to one task after another. There were enough staff members to handle every corner of the household, making it obvious how lavishly the occupants lived.
The mansion itself was a reflection of wealth and status, every detail carefully designed and built with money. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, expensive artwork decorated the walls, and elegant furniture filled every room as though the entire place had been taken straight from a luxury magazine.
After her parents died, her mother's sister, Clara, had taken over the manor completely and moved in with her own family—her husband Philip and their daughter Alexa.
The moment Juliet stepped inside, a familiar feeling settled heavily in her chest.
It was the feeling of not belonging.
Her steps gradually slowed until she came to a stop in the entrance hall. Standing there, she stared ahead as memories rushed through her mind one after another. Years of cold treatment, cruel words, and endless criticism came flooding back without warning. A lump formed in her throat, and her fingers slowly curled against her palms as she fought to push the memories away.
She hated coming back here.
Every visit reminded her that this house had never truly been her home.
After her parents died unexpectedly in a car accident while she was still in middle school, Clara's family had taken her in. Yet despite raising her, they had never treated her with warmth or kindness. Instead, they constantly made her feel as though she owed them everything—as though her existence itself was a burden they had reluctantly agreed to carry.
Juliet took a slow breath, straightened her shoulders, and forced herself to keep walking.
The moment she stepped into the living room, her gaze swept across the luxurious space. Expensive white leather furniture sat beneath sparkling chandeliers, while elegant decorations filled every corner, showing off the wealth that surrounded the family.
Her eyes eventually landed on the large couch near the center of the room.
Clara and Alexa were sitting together.
Alexa's face was red and swollen from crying. She leaned against her mother's shoulder while Clara rubbed her back gently, murmuring comforting words into her ear.
The sound of Juliet's footsteps immediately drew their attention. Both women looked up.
The second Clara saw her, the softness on her face vanished. Her expression darkened instantly.
Without a word, she shot to her feet and marched toward Juliet.
Juliet instinctively stiffened.
Her gaze dropped to the familiar wooden stick lying on the coffee table, and a knot of tension immediately formed in her stomach. A second later, Clara grabbed it.
The older woman's face was twisted with fury as she strode across the room, gripping the stick tightly in her hand.
