⋆ Chapter 50

It was midnight by the time I got to Cillian’s mansion. The sky was velvet dark, stars hidden behind thick clouds, and my feet were already dragging from the kind of exhaustion that clings to your bones.

Alfonso greeted me at the door, as always polished and calm like he didn’t know I was basically about to drop dead. He led me to Cillian’s office, where the man himself sat behind his desk in his usual throne of authority, all stiff shoulders and severe jawline like he’d been waiting to scold me.

He barely glanced up when I walked in. “So,” he said, voice cool and clipped, “you’re dating your high school friend now.”

I sighed and dropped my bag onto the guest chair. “Not this again.”

“You mean the mysterious high school boyfriend who’s apparently very generous with antique jewelry?” He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled like he was about to grill me on the witness stand.

I shot him a look. “I couldn’t exactly tell Georgia and Ralph that you gave me the bracelet.”

He raised a brow. “Right. You've mentioned that. I’m the high school friend.”

“Cillian…”

“I just didn’t realize there was more to this high school friend.” He stood now. “Because from what I’m hearing, I’m not just the friend—I’m the boyfriend. So tell me, Pet… is that what you think? That we’re dating?”

My face caught fire. “No! Of course not.” I could barely look at him. “I never said you were my boyfriend—I mean, they just assumed.”

 He crossed the room now, more relaxed, his voice dipping into that teasing register again—the one that made my brain glitch. “If it helps, I’ll allow it.”

“What?”

“You can tell them I’m your boyfriend.” He paused. Just for a second. Then, as if catching himself, his tone smoothed out again.“I mean—tell them your high school friend is your boyfriend.”

I stared at him. “What—why—why would you allow that?”

“So you they’d shut the hell up,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “But just so you know, I’m expecting you not to take things far between us, Pet. I don’t do relationships. Especially not with humans.”

And there it was. That last line—delivered like a soft slap across the cheek. I blinked at him, unsure if he meant it as a warning or, a reminder. Because what the hell did “take things far” mean when he’d kissed my neck already, and  practically almost fed from me?

We stood there for a moment in silence—me trying to figure out what the hell he meant, and him looking like he’d said something casual.

Then, of course, he pivoted.

“So, who’s next?” he asked, already sounding tired.

I blinked. “Next?”

“The next woman I’m allegedly supposed to charm and impress.”

“Oh. Right.” I grabbed my phone and scrolled through my notes. “Her name is Melinda. She’s a florist. Very into tea and crime novels. She could only meet at six tomorrow.”

“Six?” He frowned. “That’s early.”

“It’s dinner,” I said. “That’s normal for dinner.”

“I already told you the first one was a disaster.”

“And I already told you this isn’t about you enjoying the food.”

He folded his arms. “Did you give Torrence any personal information about me?”

That threw me. “What? No! Of course not.”

“Good.” He eyed me like a lie detector on legs. He stepped closer. “Block her.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

My stomach twisted. Of course he didn’t know I’d spent my whole morning fielding messages from Torrence and replying as I pretended to be him. He didn’t need to know that. I wasn’t proud of it.

I nodded. “Fine. I’ll block her.”

He watched me for another second, then turned away to pace slowly, hands in his pockets.

“You’re still going tomorrow,” I reminded him.

Cillian groaned. “Why are you so insistent?”

“Because, Mr. Ravenscroft, that’s how this works.”

“And if it’s another disaster?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Then I’ll come save you again.”

He paused mid-step. “Actually,” he said, eyes lighting up like he’d just had the world’s most inconvenient idea, “this time, let’s try something else. You could pretend to be a jealous ex-girlfriend.”

I stared. “Excuse me?”

“Think about it,” he said with a shrug. “She sees you storming in, furious, maybe wrap your arms around me—”

“Wrap your arms around you?!”

“—and she runs off before the appetizers.”

“Cillian!”

“What?” he said, feigning innocence. “You’re clearly having fun with this. I want to enjoy it too.”

I gaped at him. “Need I remind you that we’re doing this for you? To find you a Keeper?”

“We can find a Keeper without going on a pathetic date, Pet.”

“Point taken,” I grumbled, rubbing my forehead. “But I already told you why we’re doing this.”

I crossed my arms, staring at him as he leaned against his desk like he hadn't just asked me to fake a scene straight out of a soap opera.

"Fine," I muttered. "If it means you’ll go, I’ll do it. But I’m not wrapping my arms around you."

"Pity," he said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I think you’d enjoy it."

I rolled my eyes, then looked down at the bracelet around my wrist.

“Hey,” I said, holding it up. “What Soren said… was he right? Is this really an heirloom?”

Cillian’s smile faded. He looked at the bracelet, then up at me.

“He was telling the truth,” he said after a pause. “But don’t flatter yourself, Pet.”

My lips parted, confused.

“I’ve lived a very long life,” he added with a shrug. “My family has a house full of heirlooms. They're practically just… stuff my mother refused to throw away.”

I was just about to ask another question when the door swung open.

Soren strolled in, that lazy grin already stretched across his face the second he spotted me.

“Knew I’d find you here,” he said casually.

Before I could even blink, Cillian cut in, his voice flat and sharp. “Don’t waste your breath, Soren. You were in the elevator—you heard. She already has a boyfriend. Her friend from high school.”

I froze, my mouth parting. Uh, what?

Soren raised an eyebrow, clearly unfazed. His gaze slid down to my wrist. “Is that why she’s wearing a Ravenscroft heirloom?”

“Tilly and I have a deal,” Cillian said coolly. “The bracelet binds us both to the contract.”

Soren tilted his head, skeptical. “And your boyfriend’s cool with all this? You making deals with vampires and binding yourself to one?”

I opened my mouth, then immediately regretted it. I hesitated. Was I supposed to answer that? Lie? Laugh? Scream?

“Yeah, sure,” I muttered eventually, voice high-pitched and way too fast. “Your cousin’s totally cool. Chill. No issues.” I sounded like I was trying to sell a used car.

Cillian glanced at me but said nothing. He was probably halfway through mentally firing Soren out of a cannon.

Soren didn’t press, but the glint in his eyes said he wasn’t buying any of it. He rocked back on his heels like this was all just entertaining drama to him.

Cillian, growing visibly annoyed, turned toward him. “What do you want?”

Soren shrugged. “Just curious what our charming human employee is doing hanging out in your vampire lair after hours.”

Cillian’s jaw ticked, but before he could say anything, Soren shot me one last smirk.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Tilly.”

And then he was gone.