Chapter 7
Cassie stood at the edge of her desk, fingers skimming the cool wood surface as if the contact could ground her. The city beyond her window hummed with indifferent life, but inside, everything was still. Too still. Christian's voice echoed in her head, sharp and composed, the kind of calm that cut deeper than any raised voice ever could.
She clenched her jaw.
It always circled back to that one moment.
The conference had been a bloodsport dressed as a product launch.
Christian stood center stage, magnetic and composed in his navy suit. Spotlights bounced off the high-gloss screen behind him. Investors leaned forward, hanging on every word. Royals Crest's future glittered in the air like champagne bubbles.
Cassie had stood to the side, heart racing, mind working overtime. She wasn't supposed to speak. But something was off.
Slide 5.
The number didn't match. A small error—unless you were pitching to sharks. Her stomach turned. She could've let it go. Should've.
But she didn't.
"Christian," she said, rising slowly. "There's a mismatch in the data on Slide 5. It doesn't align with last quarter's figures."
For a heartbeat, the world stilled. Every head turned. Christian's didn't.
Then slowly, he faced her.
"Are you questioning me in front of investors?"
His voice was soft. That made it worse.
"I'm trying to protect the pitch." Her voice held steady, but her fingers trembled.
The look he gave her was lethal in its restraint. Cold. Final.
"This presentation is over."
The silence that followed her out of the room echoed longer than applause ever could.
Cassie flinched as her phone buzzed on the desk.
She stared at it without touching it, heart caught between fight and flight. The ghost of that moment still haunted her—how easily he'd dismissed her. How she'd disappeared in a single breath.
She had expected the sting to fade. It hadn't.
A soft knock at the door pulled her back. Cassie turned, eyes still shadowed by the past.
Stella leaned in, concern etched in the crease of her brow. "You good?"
Cassie nodded too quickly. "Thinking about the Titan presentation."
Stella stepped in, closing the door behind her. "Christian, huh?" she said, like she already knew.
Cassie didn't answer.
Stella sat beside her. "You're not scared of him," she said gently. "You're scared of what you feel when he looks at you."
Cassie blinked.
That landed.
"I just don't want him to control the narrative again."
"Then don't let him."
Silence stretched between them, not uncomfortable—just real. Stella squeezed her hand once, then stood.
Cassie waited until the door clicked shut before moving.
She walked to her closet, pulled out the navy sheath dress—the one that made her stand taller. Red lipstick followed. Sharp heels. Armor.
She met her reflection in the mirror. Her heart was still bruised. But her spine? Steel.
Tomorrow, she would face him again.
And this time, she wouldn't flinch.
The conference room was still, the only sound the hum of the overhead lights and the occasional noise of traffic drifting from the streets below. Christian stood by the window, his back to Cassie. The city sprawled beneath him, bright lights painting the night like a memory he couldn't quite grasp.
His mind wasn't on the Titan deal or the flawless pitch earlier. It was on something else. Someone else.
Cassie.
He hadn't meant to be cold with her. It was just… easier that way. Walls were clean. Distance was safer. But somehow, she'd gotten past them. And that scared him more than any failed deal ever could.
The door creaked open behind him, breaking the stillness. He didn't turn around.
"What is it, Cassie?" His voice came out sharper than he intended, like a shield he couldn't drop.
For a moment, there was only silence. Then, the faint sound of heels clicking against the floor, coming closer.
"I could ask you the same thing," she replied, her voice soft, but the underlying tension in her words was unmistakable. She wasn't just talking about the work. It was something more.
He turned slowly to face her. She stood with her arms crossed, her posture rigid, but her eyes—there was something raw there. Something she wasn't saying.