⋆ Chapter 48

Still in my office outfit—slacks, blouse, the whole I'm-a-responsible-adult look—I was standing in the middle of Cillian’s home office, arms crossed, voice already tired from repeating myself.

“I already told you,” Cillian said without looking up from his desk, “I don’t date.”

“And I already told you,” I shot back, “this isn’t, like, a date-date. You’re basically meeting your next Keeper. Think of it as an interview. With wine.”

He finally looked up at me, that aristocratic face carved in eternal disapproval. “On a date. Dates require a lot of me that I’m not really interested in doing. Talking. Smiling. Being polite.”

I groaned and threw my hands up. “Look, I couldn’t exactly write on your dating profile that you’re looking for a Keeper. That would’ve come off as weird and absolutely dumb. Like—‘Hi, I’m a vampire CEO looking for a neck to suck. Swipe right.’ Not exactly Tinder gold.”

He arched one brow. “You used Tinder?”

“It doesn’t matter.” I waved it off. “What matters is that you stop dismissing people based on your silly little assumptions and actually talk to them like a normal person.”

“My assumptions,” he said slowly, “are not unfounded. You’ve met Emma.”

“That’s one person!”

“She was enough to keep my standards very high.”

I stepped closer, planting my hands on his desk. “Cillian, just meet Torrence. That’s all I’m asking. You don’t have to fall in love. You don’t even have to make eye contact if that’s too intimate for you. Just—meet. Talk. Drink your wine. Try not to be insufferable.”

He leaned back in his chair, looking at me like I was a puzzle he hadn’t decided whether to solve or toss into the fire. Then, he said, “I’ll agree—on one condition.”

“Of course,” I muttered. “There’s always a condition.”

“I want you there.”

“What?”

He gave a small shrug, casual in a way that wasn’t casual at all. “You’ll be nearby. Sitting at another table. Just in case I want to leave. You’ll come in as my assistant and fabricate some emergency. I trust you to lie for me.”

I stared at him. “You want me to be your...emergency date-exit backup?”

“Yes.”

“You realize how ridiculous that is?”

“Not at all.”

We stared at each other, the air thick with something that wasn’t quite tension but wasn’t not tension either.

“I’m not sitting in some corner like a weirdo stalking your date,” I said, but it came out weaker than intended.

“You already stalked women for me,” he said dryly. “Let’s not pretend we have boundaries.”

Touché.

I groaned. “Fine. One drink. That’s it.”

He smirked. “Two.”

I scowled. “You’re lucky I like ruining my dignity for you.”

“I am very lucky,” he said, and though his tone was smug, there was something warmer in his eyes.

And that was the moment I knew I was absolutely, 100% doomed.

The restaurant was classy in that low-lit kind of way, where they served things that didn’t come with prices on the menu. Cillian had chosen a corner table with just enough privacy, and I sat one table away, pretending to be deeply fascinated by the risotto I wasn’t actually eating.

Torrence showed up looking like a redheaded goddess straight out of an action movie—tall, glowing skin, a body like she knew her way around both a yoga mat and a heavy bag. I hated how perfect she looked, even though I had no reason to. Except for the part where I was lowkey spying.

What surprised me most? Cillian. He was... charming. Polite. Smiling, even. Not his usual smug-smirk smile, but an actual polite, gentlemanly one. He listened when Torrence talked, asked questions, and even complimented her taste in wine.

I was watching Mr. Doom-and-Gloom play the role of an eligible bachelor, and honestly? I didn’t know whether to applaud or vomit.

Then he dropped the big one.

“What’s your take on vampire and human relationships?” he asked casually.

“Oh, my last boyfriend was a vampire,” Torrence replied easily, taking a sip of her wine. “We just broke up last month, actually.”

I saw it in real-time—the exact moment Cillian's expression flickered. He glanced toward me like Can you believe this? and then smoothly returned his gaze to her.

“And why did the relationship end?”

Torrence leaned back in her chair and sighed like it was still raw. “He didn’t want to commit. He said marriage wasn’t his thing. Which, I get it, I guess—immortality and all. But I’m thirty-two. I want a husband and a house and, you know, brunch with matching mugs.”

And just like that, the gentleman act cracked. His eyes lost a bit of their shine. He casually reached under the table, and not ten seconds later, my phone buzzed.

Cillian: Abort mission. Come get me.

But I didn’t move. Not right away. Watching him squirm just a little? Was kind of delicious.

Torrence had started talking more about her vampire ex—like, in detail. Nicknames. The way he used to sing in the shower. That time he surprised her with blood-scented candles. I nearly laughed into my wine glass.

When I saw Cillian shift like he was about to stand and politely vanish into mist or whatever vampires do, I finally took pity.

I stood, stepped over, and cleared my throat with all the fake professionalism I could muster.

“Mr. Ravenscroft, there’s an emergency at the office and you need to come with me now.”

Torrence blinked. “What’s going on? Who is she?”

“Leah,” I said smoothly, giving her a small bow of apology. “Mr. Ravenscroft’s executive assistant. I’m so sorry to cut this dinner short, but we’ll be in touch.”

Cillian stood, took Torrence’s hand with a smile that had completely died behind the eyes, and kissed it. “It was lovely to meet you, Torrence.”

Outside, Damian was already waiting. We slid into the back of the car, and the second the doors shut, I exhaled, a little nervous laugh slipping out.

“I’ve never done that before,” I said, still smiling. “That was terrifying. And kind of fun.”

Cillian loosened his tie. “Unbelieavable.”

“Poor Torrence,” I said.

“How about me? That woman was clearly still in love with her ex,” Cillian said.

“You could’ve handled it differently, you know.”

“She talked about him for ten minutes straight. What was I supposed to do, propose just to shut her up?”

I grinned. “Well, it proves one thing.”

Cillian looked over at me. “That what?”

“That no matter how insanely attractive you are, you’re still nothing compared to a person’s one true love.”

His eyes sparkled a little, the corner of his mouth twitching. “So you think I’m insanely attractive?”

I smirked, leaned back, and pretended to scroll through my phone. “I plead the fifth.”