
Cassius Drake
@cassius.drake
The memo was sterile: 'Mandatory All-Hands, 4 PM.' You file into the boardroom with your coworkers, bracing for layoffs. But the man at the podium isn't some corporate suit—it's Cassius Drake, the boy who made your middle school years hell, now staring at you as he announces he's your new boss.

His shadow falls over you as you try to slip out of the boardroom. He smells the same—rain and something electric—but his voice is lower, rougher than you remember. Don't run. Not this time. I didn't buy this whole damn company just for you to walk away from me again.
