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📖 UNTIL YOU BEG
Chapter One — Ashes
> "Grief is the prettiest kind of silence—
because it screams in your chest,
but never leaves your lips."
— Unknown
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The sky was the color of mourning—thick gray clouds bruising over the cemetery as if the heavens themselves couldn't look at her pain.
Zariah stood still, black heels buried in soft dirt, the scent of rain and roses curling around her like a noose. Her father's name was carved into stone now. No warmth. No voice. Just a cold slab and a grave full of silence.
Murdered.
They said it like a whisper.
But she heard it like a scream.
Cassian Vale. That name burned through her like acid. The man no one dared speak against. The monster who ruled the city's underground like a king. Her father had been the only one brave—or foolish—enough to stand up to him.
And now… he was dead.
Shot twice in the chest.
No suspects. No justice. Just silence.
She clutched the folded funeral program so tightly her knuckles bled white. But her face stayed calm. Beautiful. Cold.
She'd learned early that crying didn't bring the dead back.
But revenge?
Revenge might.
> I'll burn you down, Cassian.
And I'll make you beg before I do.
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One Year Later…
> Name: Zariah Nyelle Pierce
Age: 24
Occupation: Personal Assistant (new hire)
Assigned To: Cassian Vale – CEO, Vale International
Zariah stared at the glass tower in front of her. Sixty floors of steel, secrets, and shadows.
Vale International was the public face. The charity donations. The fake respectability. But behind it? Guns, blood, trafficking. All whispered rumors that no one proved. Because Cassian Vale made people disappear.
> Now she was stepping into the wolf's den.
Her silk blouse clung to her spine. She wore red lipstick—bold, defiant—and heels that clicked like threats. Her new name rolled on her tongue like a lie: Nyelle. Sweet. Professional. Untraceable.
She didn't shake when the elevator doors closed.
She didn't flinch when the floor numbers climbed.
She'd spent a year preparing to meet the devil.
What she wasn't ready for…
Was how beautiful he would be.
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Cassian Vale didn't look at her—at first.
He stood by the window, back to her, in a black suit sharp enough to kill. The city stretched behind him, lights glowing like fireflies.
Then he turned. Slowly.
And her breath caught.
Cold gray eyes met hers. Full lips, unreadable. His face… carved from marble. Beautiful and terrifying.
He didn't smile.
He didn't blink.
He just said, "You're late."
His voice slid across her skin like silk and steel.
Zariah straightened. "Traffic."
"Lies." His eyes flickered. "But you're pretty. So I'll allow it."
She clenched her fists. He was already playing with her.
Testing her. Watching her.
> Two can play, monster.
"Would you like me to strip too?" she asked softly. "Or do I get a desk first?"
Silence.
Then—
He smiled.
A slow, dangerous curve of the lips.
> "Oh," Cassian murmured. "You're going to be fun."
Zariah didn't smile.
She met his gaze like a loaded gun—steady, unreadable.
"I'm here to work," she said, lifting her chin. "Not entertain."
Cassian stepped forward slowly, like a shadow stretching toward her. "Oh, make no mistake," he said. "You'll do both."
He walked around her, deliberately slow, every inch of her under silent inspection. Not a touch. Not yet. But the weight of his eyes on her spine felt heavier than hands.
"You're not what you seem," he murmured, voice behind her now.
"Neither are you," she replied without hesitation.
He chuckled, deep and dark. "Touché."
Zariah didn't flinch as he stopped beside her. Close enough to smell the leather of his jacket, the clean burn of expensive cologne.
Then he leaned down, whispering by her ear—
> "You don't belong here. But you already knew that, didn't you?"
Her heart pounded, but her voice stayed calm.
"I belong wherever I choose to be, Mr. Vale."
There was a pause.
Then his voice—silk laced with steel:
> "And if I choose to own you?"
She turned to face him, breath shallow but eyes unshaken. "Then you better pray I never learn how to kill you."
Another pause.
Cassian's smile curved again—but this one was colder.
> "I like you already."
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He stepped back, finally, and motioned toward the glass wall behind her. "Your desk is out there. Tell Elias you're mine."
Her brow lifted. "Yours?"
"Assistant," he clarified. "Direct. Exclusive. Trusted. That's what the job is. You still want it?"
> He was testing her. Again.
Zariah held his stare. "I wouldn't have come if I couldn't handle it."
Cassian nodded once. "We'll see."
As she turned to leave, his voice followed her like smoke.
> "Don't lie to me again, Nyelle."
She froze. A chill ran down her back.
She didn't turn. Didn't speak. Just walked.
But inside?
> She knew the game had started.
And she'd just stepped into the fire.
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