5 hours earlier...
Knight Corporations...
Cassian looked bored seated behind his desk in the CEO’s office. Even so his detached eyes were trained on the Singapore board of directors on the screen, their faces lined up neatly, appearing very polite.
You could see how they treated him even across a screen.
"Mr. Knight, I understand your position on the schedule for the D6 shipment, but could we get some more time? We aim to procure the best and..."
"Three days," Cassian interrupted the man. "This shipment puts us in a position to dominate the Middle East within a year. Precision and timing are crucial. Missing the deadline will result in forfeited earnings."
"Of course, Mr. Knight, we’ll get on to it immediately. I’m prepared to personally guarantee the D6 targets," the man said, straightening instantly after hearing about his earnings being forfeited.
Cassian merely inclined his head, the faintest nod, his eyes still locked on the glowing screen of the main screen.
The pale blue light reflected off his sharp features, accentuating the cool detachment that always seemed to cling to him like a shadow despite his tiredness.
"That would be all."
The video conference ended with polite formalities.
Cassian turned towards Randy, who was standing beside him. "Randy, get the car ready."
"Right away, boss," Randy said and immediately made his way out.
Selena, his secretary and only woman on his team, was also present for the video conference.
"Selena, you should handle the follow-up of today’s meeting. I want the draft on my desk by tomorrow morning," Cassian said, logging out.
Selena hesitated. "Sir, you’re already leaving?"
"Yes."
"Are you going home?"
Cassian gave her a look. "Why?"
"Tonight is my birthday—"
"I have prior engagements," Cassian interrupted, not allowing her to speak.
Selena slowly bit her lip. "But you’ve always celebrated it with me. You can’t keep punishing me for what happened... It’s been ten months already," she cried.
"Punishing you?" Cassian repeated. "Do you think I’d still allow you to be my secretary if I was still hung up on the past?"
"Then why?" she whispered, her eyes glistening. "You even agreed to the arranged marriage...for her."
"Are you questioning me now?" Cassian asked; his voice was low, but Selena flinched. His actions were too cold.
"I’m not... I just... I miss you."
Cassian closed his eyes briefly, more out of impatience than restraint.
"Cancel my appointments for the remainder of the day. You’re excused."
Selena nodded as she reluctantly made her way out of his office.
He said he had forgiven her...
So why did he keep her at arms length? And now this marriage...
Is he really taking it seriously? Is he replacing her with Isabelle?
~~~♧♧♧~~~
Cassian made his way out of his office, finally feeling the fatigue kicking in.
He barely had a wink of sleep in 70 hours.
He tries to sleep... he really tries, but sleep is a luxury when it comes to him.
All his money and power couldn’t find him a cure for his neurological disorder.
Earlier this morning, at 4:00am, and like every other morning, he stepped onto his treadmill for his morning run.
He went at it for almost two hours, his breathing steady, and watched as his heart rate climbed up to the exact recommendation of his doctor.
However, working himself to the brink of tiredness still didn’t help much.
Cassian didn’t break his stride until he reached the parking lot and climbed into the backseat of the SUV, with Andrew, his driver, and Randy in the front seat.
"I called Dr. David. He’s on his way to the mansion," Randy reported, just as the car began to enter the main street.
"You did what?"
"Boss," Randy said, his voice low and cautious. "You agreed to attend the dinner at the Quinn estate tonight. Her family and important associates of the Quinns will be there. You’ll need to... perform."
A humourless smile ghosted across Cassian’s lips.
"Perform," he echoed. "Yes. Smile at the right moments. Speak with them as if I care... Pretend I’m human."
"A few hours of shuteye before the dinner could also help," Randy added.
"Fine," Cassian snapped, giving up.
He needed to sleep.
~~~
Cassian’s Mansion...
The side room smelt faintly of antiseptic and coffee.
The sunlight bled through the half-drawn curtains, cutting across the marble floor in cold precise lines, just like everything else in his life.
Cassian sat on the edge of the bed with his sleeves rolled up, and his gaze fixed on the syringe in Dr. David’s hand.
Clear liquid.
Predictable relief.
A lie he had learned to live with every single day after that night.
"You’ve missed three doses," Dr. David said carefully, not looking him in the eye. "Your levels have dropped significantly. That explains the insomnia, the agitation—"
"I’m not agitated." Cassian said flatly, his voice quiet.
That was the problem.
Dr. David hesitated. "Randy told me you haven’t slept in seventy-two hours."
Cassian glared at Randy. That meddler.
"Why sleep when there’s nothing worth waking up for?"
The room fell into heavy silence, heavy and uncomfortable.
Near the window, Randy shifted unconsciously.
"Boss," he said finally. "The dinner party tonight."
"I know, you broken recorder."
Dr. David stepped forward, syringe ready. "Then you need the injection."
Cassian’s gaze dropped to it again.
For years, that needle had been the closest thing to salvation he knew.
A chemical illusion of normalcy.
Borrowed emotions. Borrowed reactions. Borrowed life.
And every dose dragged him one step closer to a silent heart attack.
He knew it.
They all knew it.
"Skipping for too long is dangerous," David urged softly.
"No," Cassian said. The sound was quiet but absolute.
Both David and Randy stiffened.
"Young Master—"
"I said no."
Cassian’s tone didn’t rise. It didn’t need to, but the room seemed to tighten around it.
David swallowed. "If this is about the side effects, we can adjust the dosage—"
"It’s not."
That made them both go still.
Slowly, Cassian leaned back, bracing his hands behind him.
His eyes drifted toward the ceiling, as if lost in thought.
"...That afternoon at the private lunch," he said, almost to himself.
David frowned. "What happened?"
There was a long pause.
And for the first time since he entered the room, something changed in Cassian’s expression.
It wasn’t a smile.
Not quite.
But something... close.
"She hugged me."
The words landed softly.
Dangerously.
Randy straightened. "Isabelle?"
"Yes."
"Oh," Randy rasped. "I didn’t peg her as the touchy-feely type."
"She isn’t," Cassian replied.
"O–kay, then how?"
Cassian didn’t respond; it was as if his mind were somewhere else entirely.
Then, in a quiet voice, he answered. "It was by accident."
Cassian fingers curled slightly against the sheets, as if remembering something they weren’t built to hold.
"There was someone behind the door. She thought it was someone else ... forget it. What matters is that she reached for the nearest thing." Cassian paused. "...Which happened to be me."
The silence stretched.
David lowered the syringe slightly. "And?"
Cassian’s jaw tightened. It was as if he wanted to resist speaking such words.
It was as if acknowledging it would make it matter.
"...I felt it."
The room froze.
Dr. David blinked. "That’s impossible."
"I know."
"You shouldn’t be capable of feeling—"
"I said," he cut in softly, "I felt it."
Like always, his voice wasn’t loud or aggressive either.
Cassian lifted his gaze to look at them. His eyes were dark and sharp, something restless flickering beneath the surface.
"For a brief moment," he continued, his voice almost distant, "my body didn’t feel like a corpse I was dragging around."
David and Randy held their breaths.
"It was..." Cassian stopped, again, searching for the right word but failing.
"...warm."
The word sounded foreign on his tongue.
Like a language he was never meant to speak.
David shook his head quickly, almost desperate. "It could be a neurological misfire. A stress response. Your system is unstable without the injections—it happened six months ago with the masked girl."
"Exactly."
That single word cut through everything.
Cassian stood then, slow, deliberate, towering in a way that made the air feel thinner.
"My system could be unstable," he repeated, his gaze dropping to the syringe again... Then away.
"If it’s instability that lets me feel something..."
"...why should I fix it?"
David stepped forward urgently. "Because whatever you experienced—it won’t last. And without the drug, your condition will worsen. You’ll lose what little functionality you have left."
A faint smile touched Cassian’s lips. His eyes were cold, but not empty this time.
"Functionality," he murmured. "You mean my ability to imitate life."
Randy stepped forward, voice firmer. "Boss. This isn’t something you gamble with. What if it was nothing? What if it doesn’t happen again?"
Randy’s words made something flicker in his eyes. Sharp. Dangerous. Possessive. "Then I’ll make it happen again," Cassian challenged. The certainty in his voice was chilling.
Not hope.
Not curiosity.
He had made a decision.
Randy sighed. "I should have known. No wonder you agreed to the marriage alliance even though you’ve been against it forever."
Cassian reached for his cufflinks, fastening them with precise, practised movements.
"No injection today."
David’s grip tightened around the syringe. "You’re risking your life."
Cassian didn’t look at him. "I don’t remember the last time I lived it anyway." That silenced the room.
He adjusted his collar, expression settling back into that familiar, untouchable calm. But now—
Now there was something underneath. Something restless.
Hungry.
"Prepare the car," he said. "I need to speak to Grandmother first before the dinner."
Randy looked at the stubborn man before him. "You’re really going through with this?"
Cassian met Randy’s gaze.
And this time there was no mistaking it.
His usually empty eyes were filled with something else... It wasn’t detachment.
No.
But something dark was awakening, and it was terrifying in its intensity.
"We can’t find the masked girl to prove my theory... If Isabelle can make me feel..." he said quietly, "...then it’s time I take the marriage alliance seriously, don’t you think?" he paused.
His voice dropped lower. "She could be the only proof I exist."
He smirked. "And I don’t share what keeps me alive."
Randy didn’t know if he should feel sorry for Isabelle or tell her to run... Why on earth did she become Cassian’s new obsession?
~~~
Later that night... Quinn’s celebratory dinner...
Cassian had just stepped into the foyer when he saw her.
Isabelle stood at the end of the split stairs, being her elegant yet humble self. It was a tough combination, but she managed to pull it off.
She was with another girl, and they seemed to be whispering.
The expressions that kept changing on her face piqued his interest, and by the time he realised, he was already walking towards her.
The sea of people parted for him; he didn’t even pay attention to the polite nods and greetings from the people directed at him.
He had just reached her when he heard her speak.
"Y-you know about the man I’m in a relationship with—"
Isabelle cut her words short, likely seeing the look on the other girl’s face.
"Mr. Knight," the girl called at the same time.
Cassian was angry. It was an emotion he was used to but this time mixed with something else... Something he couldn’t quite describe.
His jaw clenched.
She was still talking about that man in the midst of these gossipy relatives.
She turned abruptly, her heels catching on the hem of her dress.
He caught her on instinct, his arms wrapping around her and holding her close to himself to steady her.
That was when he felt it again. Warmth.
Full-blown warmth that was speedily spreading through him and heating up his entire body.