Yvette’s POV
"Hello Isabelle," Cassian drawled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that made the glass in my hand tremble. "You look...like I’ve intruded upon a secret."
My fingers tightened around the stem of the champagne glass, the delicate crystal threatening to snap under the pressure.
Shit! ... He heard something.
The thought slammed into me like a physical blow, but I forced my expression to remain smooth, acting calm, composed...
I’m Isabelle Quinn... Isabelle.
"I didn’t realise eavesdropping was a habit of yours, Mr Knight," I replied lightly, lifting my chin just enough to meet his gaze.
A mistake.
Cassian’s eyes darkened. Not with anger. It was something far worse.
Interest.
Wait... Why did he agree to this alliance again?
Around us, the air shifted. Conversations nearby slowed, their attention subtly redirecting toward us. No one dared to stare outright, but everyone was watching.
Of course they were.
The future Mr. and Mrs Knight.
Cassian didn’t look away.
Not even for a second.
Instead, his gaze dropped. His movements were slow and deliberate, tracing the line of my face, my throat... lingering just a fraction too long before returning to my eyes.
It felt like being dissected.
"I don’t need to eavesdrop," he said calmly. "You’re not very careful with your words."
My pulse spiked.
So he did hear something.
"How unfortunate," I said, tilting my head slightly and giving him my best smile. "And here I thought discretion was one of my better qualities."
His lips curved faintly.
Not a smile.
A warning.
Before I could react, his hand moved.
He reached for the glass still trembling in my grip and stilled it.
Just like that.
His fingers brushed mine.
Warm.
My breath caught.
Not because of the contact—
But because of how intentional it felt.
Like he meant to touch me.
Like he was waiting for it.
His grip wasn’t tight.
But it was... something else... Possessive maybe.
"Careful," he murmured, his voice dipping lower. "You’re shaking."
"I’m not," I said quickly.
It was a lie. A weak one... and we both knew it.
His thumb shifted slightly against my fingers, and I froze.
It wasn’t inappropriate... Damn, it wasn’t even obvious, but it lingered.
It felt as if he were testing and measuring my reaction.
And oh, help me, God, but my body refused to move. In fact, I leant further into him.
His gaze sharpened, as if confirming something only he could see.
Then, just as suddenly, he let go.
The absence of his arms felt... wrong.
I hated that.
"Mr. Knight," Roxanne cut in smoothly, her tone polite but firm. "It’s a pleasure to see you."
Why was she still here?
Cassian didn’t look at her. "Is it?" he replied flatly.
Roxanne’s smile stiffened.
"I was just congratulating Isabelle," she continued, recovering quickly. "It’s wonderful news."
"Is it?" he repeated again.
This time, his eyes were on me.
Not her.
Never her.
My stomach tightened.
This wasn’t a conversation; Cassian was playing a game. And I was already losing.
Estelle and Joel appeared right on time.
"Cassian, dear. Isabelle must have slipped. You know, the wedding and everything are making her jittery with nerves," Estelle said, looking genuinely remorseful on my behalf.
Right. The spill...
I had almost forgotten... Almost.
"Oh, it’s nothing," Cassian drawled.
"No, son. Come with me; let’s get you changed and allow the women to keep each other company," Joel added.
Cassian stiffened, his gaze full of hostility I was certain was directed at Joel.
It was a flash, but I caught it.
"Yeah, I should get this cleaned," Cassian agreed, glancing down at the faint stain of champagne on his shirt.
"I’ll come with you," I blurted before I could stop myself.
Silence.
Roxanne’s gaze turned to me sharply. Estelle and Joel also watched me with a hint of surprise.
Cassian’s gaze didn’t change, but something flickered beneath it.
Approval? Amusement?
No.
It looked like something darker.
"Of course you will," he said quietly. Like it was never a question.
~~~♧♧♧~~~
We didn’t speak as we walked, but I could feel him everywhere. His presence beside me was overwhelming.
He felt too close, too aware. In fact, every step felt measured and deliberate. It was as if he were matching my pace on purpose.
When we reached the hallway leading away from the ballroom, the noise faded behind us, replaced by something quieter.
More dangerous.
The moment the door closed behind us—
I exhaled.
Another big mistake.
Because that was when he moved.
He was fast.
One second, there was space between us.
The next—
My back hit the wall.
A soft gasp escaped me as his hand came up beside my head, trapping me in place.
Not touching.
Not yet.
But close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body.
"Now," Cassian said softly.
Too softly.
"Let’s try that again."
My heart slammed against my ribs.
"What exactly did you mean?" he continued, his voice dropping further, "when you said... ’the man I’m in a relationship with’?"
The air shifted. Not loudly. Not dramatically.
It was in that quiet, suffocating way that made every instinct in my body scream danger.
Cassian looked at me, his eyes sharp, like he could see right through me, and with his scent invading my senses, I was a mess.
My throat went dry.
Think, Yvette. Think.
I forced a small, composed smile, lowering my gaze.
"A relationship?" I echoed lightly. "You must have misheard."
His eyes didn’t leave mine. "No," he said calmly. "I rarely do."
Cassian stepped closer, caging me, making it impossible to ignore him.
It awakened memories of the past, that night in the Eclipse Club. How he had seemed so comfortable with getting close to me... kissing me...
Was he like this with all women?
The thought made me angry all of a sudden.
Why was I even angry?
"I don’t peg you as the clumsy type," he murmured, bringing me to the present. "First lies... now this."
Heat crept up my neck.
"I didn’t plan on spilling champagne on you," I replied evenly. "You walked into me."
The faintest hint of amusement touched his lips. "Did I?"
My fingers tightened slightly at my sides. He tilted his head, studying me with that same intensity that made it feel like he was peeling me apart layer by layer.
"Tell me," he continued, voice soft. "Should I be concerned about this... secret conversation I interrupted?"
There it was. The trap.
I held his gaze even though I was inwardly squirming. "There’s nothing for you to be concerned about," I said. "It was just girl talk."
"Girl talk," he repeated, his voice lingering on the words as if he were testing them. Then he stepped closer. This time, there was no space left between us.
My breath caught.
"Funny," he said quietly. "You breathe differently when you’re lying."
My pulse jumped.
"That’s because you keep interrogating me. You were the one who didn’t want this marriage... So tell me, are you asking as my fiancé or as my prosecutor?" I winced the moment the words left my mouth.
The air changed.
Cassian’s eyes didn’t hold anger anymore. It held something worse.
"Careful," he warned. "You’re starting to give me ideas."
My stomach dropped.
He leaned in slightly, his voice lower than a whisper. "The Isabelle I remember..." he continued, "would never speak to me like that."
I swallowed, forcing my expression to remain calm.
"People change," I said. "Fifteen years is a long time, and I could say the same to you. The Cassian I remember didn’t look at me with such suspicion."
His gaze searched mine, relentlessly and unyieldingly. As if he were waiting for something to slip.
"You are right," he said slowly. "We’ve both changed."
He paused, holding my gaze. "Or...you are just making a strong argument."
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. Because for a second I wasn’t sure which answer was safer.
His eyes dropped to my hand. The one I had instinctively curled inward.
"Show me," he said. My breath stilled.
"What?"
"The back of your hand."
Every nerve in my body went rigid.
"No." The word came out too fast.
My tone was too sharp. too real.
His gaze was mocking, as if to tell me, "You see?"
And just like that, I knew.
I had just given him exactly what he was looking for.