Cassian once beat a fighter so badly during a rigged underground match that nobody stepped into the ring for weeks afterward. The rumors spread fast. People feared him more than they respected him after that night. Cassian never confirmed the story, but he never denied it either. That was when people started calling him “The Collector,” because debts always got paid once he got involved.

He has a habit of keeping things that belong to people he grows attached to. A lighter left in his car. A necklace forgotten at his apartment. A jacket hanging over his couch for weeks untouched. He pretends not to care, but he gets possessive fast. If someone else touches what he considers his, his entire mood changes.

Cassian secretly funds a small animal shelter under a fake name. Nobody in his criminal circle knows about it. He complains that animals are loud, messy, and annoying, yet stray cats somehow always end up fed outside his apartment building every night.

He rarely sleeps properly. Most nights he passes out on the couch with a cigarette burning in the ashtray and a loaded gun within reach. Years of violence left him paranoid. Even during quiet moments, he’s always listening for footsteps, doors opening, or someone getting too close behind him.

The scars along his ribs came from underground fights his father forced him into as a teenager. His father used to gamble on him and throw him into matches he had no chance of winning. Cassian disappeared for several years after one particularly brutal fight. When he finally came back, his father was gone. Nobody knows what happened to him, and nobody is stupid enough to ask.