Chapter 59 Chapter 59

Chapter 59 Chapter 59

CASSIAN'S POV

I could not stay in that penthouse another night.

Not after what I had found. Not after seeing the address. Not after knowing that he had gone back to that apartment every single year. The apartment where I had broken him. The balcony where I had walked away. The place where I had said I hated him.

He had gone back. Every year. For seven years. To the place where I had destroyed him.

I packed my things in the middle of the night. Clothes. Laptop. The ring on the chain around my neck. I did not take anything else. I did not want anything else. I just wanted to leave.

I called a car. Did not tell anyone where I was going. Did not leave a note. I just walked out the door and did not look back.

My apartment was cold. Empty. Sterile. The grey walls. The grey furniture. The grey bedding. It looked like a showroom. Like no one actually lived here. I preferred it that way. No memories. No reminders. No ghosts.

I sat on the edge of the bed. Stared at the wall. My phone was in my hand. I turned it off. I did not want to hear from him. I did not want to see his name. I did not want to feel anything.

But I felt everything.

I felt the ache in my chest. The hollow in my stomach. The anger burning in my veins. I had spent seven years trying to forget him. Seven years trying to move on. Seven years telling myself I did not care.

And now I knew. He had gone back. Every year. To the place where I had left him.

I did not know what to do with that information. I did not know what to feel. I did not know anything.

I lay down on the bed. Stared at the ceiling. Did not sleep.

\---

The first day, he called.

I did not answer.

Dominic: Where are you?

Dominic: Cassian, answer me.

Dominic: I know you are ignoring me.

Dominic: You cannot hide from me.

I turned off my phone. Put it in the drawer. Did not look at it again.

\---

The second day, he showed up at my apartment.

I did not open the door. He knocked. Then pounded. Then shouted. I sat on the couch and stared at the wall and pretended I could not hear him.

"Cassian. I know you are in there. Open the door."

I did not move.

"I am not leaving. You can stay in there all day. I will be right here."

I stayed in there all day. He stayed right there. At seven in the evening, I heard his footsteps retreat. He was gone. But I knew he would be back.

\---

The third day, he texted again.

Dominic: You cannot ignore me forever.

Dominic: We need to talk.

Dominic: Cassian. Please.

Dominic: I am sorry. Whatever I did. I am sorry.

Dominic: Just talk to me.

I did not respond.

\---

The fourth day, he sent flowers.

White roses. Expensive. Arranged in a crystal vase. The card said, "I miss you." I threw them in the trash.

\---

The fifth day, he sent a letter.

Handwritten. On thick paper. His handwriting was messy. Desperate.

Cassian,

I do not know what I did. But I know I did something. I always do something. I always ruin everything. That is what I do. That is who I am.

But I cannot lose you again. I cannot. I will not survive it. I know you do not believe me. I know you think I am lying. I know you hate me. And you have every right to.

But please. Just talk to me. Just tell me what I did. Give me a chance to fix it.

I love you. I have always loved you. I will always love you.

Dominic

I read the letter three times. Then I folded it. Put it in the drawer. Did not look at it again.

\---

The sixth day, he did not try to contact me.

The silence was worse than the messages. Worse than the flowers. Worse than the letter. I kept checking my phone. Kept waiting for his name to appear. It did not.

I told myself I was relieved. I was not.

\---

The seventh day, he burst into my office.

I was at my desk. Working. Or pretending to work. The door flew open. It slammed against the wall. Dominic stood in the doorway. His chest was heaving. His hair was a mess. His eyes were wild.

I stood up. My chair scraped against the floor.

"Get out," I said.

"No."

"I said get out."

"I am not leaving."

I walked around the desk. Toward the door. He blocked my path. His body was close. Too close. I could smell his cologne. The same cologne. The one I had smelled on the balcony.

"You have been ignoring me for a week," he said.

"I have been busy."

"Liar."

"I am not lying."

"Yes, you are. You are always lying. You are always running. You are always pretending."

"Get out of my office."

"No."

"Dominic."

"I will not leave until you talk to me."

I stared at him. His jaw was tight. His hands were shaking. He looked like he had not slept in days. He probably had not.

"Fine," I said. "You want to talk? Let us talk. You went back to Italy. Every year. For seven years. To the apartment. The one where I broke up with you."

His face went pale.

"How do you know that?"

"It does not matter how I know. What matters is that you went back. Every year. To the place where I left you."

"I did."

"Why?"

"Because I could not let go."

"You could not let go? You married someone else."

"That does not mean I let go."

"It means you moved on."

"I never moved on. I never could. I tried. God, I tried. But I could not."

I laughed. The sound was hollow.

"You are pathetic."

"Probably."

"You are obsessed."

"Absolutely."

"You are sick."

"I know."

I walked past him. Toward the door. He grabbed my arm. Pulled me back.

"Do not walk away from me," he said.

"Let go of me."

"No."

"Dominic. Let go."

"I am not letting go. Not again. Not ever."

I hit him. My fist connected with his face. His head snapped to the side. He did not let go. I hit him again. He still did not let go.

"Are you done?" he asked.

"No."

I tried to hit him again. He caught my wrist. Pushed me back. My back hit the desk. He was on top of me. His body pressed against mine. His face inches from my face.

"You are so beautiful when you are angry," he said.

"Get off me."

"I do not want to."

"Dominic."

"I love it when you fight me. I love the fire in your eyes. I love the way you never give up."

"Get. Off. Me."

He kissed me.

Hard. Brutal. His tongue forced its way into my mouth. His hand fisted in my hair. His body pressed me against the desk.

I bit him. Tasted blood. He did not pull back. He kissed me harder. Deeper.

"Stop," I said against his mouth.

"I cannot."

"Dominic."

"I have tried. I have tried for seven years. I cannot stop wanting you. I cannot stop needing you. I cannot stop loving you."

"Liar."

"I am not lying."

"You are always lying."

"Not about this. Never about this."

He kissed me again. I pushed against his chest. He did not move. I pushed harder. He held me tighter.

"Let me go," I said.

"No."

"I am serious."

"So am I."

He lifted me. Set me on the desk. My papers scattered. My laptop fell to the floor. I did not care. He was between my legs. His hands were on my hips. His mouth was on my neck.

"Stop," I said.

"I will not stop."

"You cannot do this."

"I can do whatever I want."

"You are married."

"She does not matter."

"She is your wife."

"She is nothing. She has always been nothing. There is only you. There has only ever been you."

"I hate you."

"I know."

"You are a monster."

"I know."

"I will never forgive you."

"I know."

He kissed me again. I stopped fighting. I let him kiss me. I let him hold me. I let him pretend that I was his.

Because I was tired. Because I was broken. Because I still loved him. Even after everything. Even after all the pain. I still loved him.

He pulled back. His eyes were dark. His chest was heaving. His lips were red with my blood.

"Turn around," he said.

"No."

"Do it."

"No."

He grabbed my hips. Turned me around himself. My chest hit the desk. His hands were on my waist. His lips were on my ear.

"I love you," he said.

"Shut up."

"I love you, Cassian."

"Shut up."

"I have always loved you."

"Shut up."

He pulled my pants down. Rough. Fast. I heard the fabric tear. I did not care. His hand was on my bare skin. His fingers were rough. His palm was hot.

"Spread your legs," he said.

"No."

"Do it."

I did not move.

He slapped my ass. Hard. The sound echoed in the office. The sting was sharp. Electric.

"I said spread your legs," he said.

I spread my legs.

His fingers found me. Pressed inside. Rough. Two at once. I gasped. My hands fisted on the desk. He moved them in and out. Fast. Hard. No preparation. No kindness.

"You are so tight," he said. "Still so tight."

"Shut up."

"I love that you are still mine. That your body still remembers me."

"It does not."

"Liar."

His fingers curled inside me. Found the spot. The one he used to know so well. My body betrayed me. I moaned. The sound was loud in the quiet office.

"There it is," he said. "There you are."

"Fuck you."

"Later."

He pulled his fingers out. I heard him undo his belt. The metal clinked. The zipper slid down. I wanted to turn around. Wanted to push him away. Wanted to run.

I did not move.

He pressed against me. The head of his cock at my entrance. Bare. No condom. I felt the heat of him. The size of him.

"Wait," I said.

"No."

"Dominic."

"I have waited seven years. I am not waiting anymore."

He pushed inside me.

All the way. In one brutal thrust. I screamed. The sound was torn from my throat. My body stretched around him. The pain was sharp. White hot. It burned.

"Fuck," I gasped.

"Yes," he said. "Fuck."

He pulled out. Pushed back in. Harder this time. Deeper. I felt him everywhere. In my throat. In my chest. In my stomach. He filled me completely.

"Look at you," he said. "Taking me so well. Still so perfect."

"Shut up."

"You are mine. You have always been mine."

"I am not."

"Your body says otherwise."

He fucked me harder. Faster. His hands were on my hips. His fingers dug into my skin. The desk moved beneath me. Papers scattered. A pen fell to the floor.

I hated every second of it.

My body loved every second of it.

I was hard. I had been hard since he touched me. My cock was pressing against the desk. Leaking. Desperate. I wanted to come. I wanted to die.

He reached around. Grabbed my cock. Stroked me in time with his thrusts.

"Come for me," he said.

"No."

"Come for me, Cassian."

"I will not."

"Yes, you will."

His hand moved faster. His cock moved harder. The pressure was building. The heat was building. I could not stop it.

"Dominic," I said.

"Say my name again."

"Dominic."

"Louder."

"Dominic."

I came. Hard. My whole body shook. My vision went white. My release spilled over the desk. Over the papers. Over his hand.

He kept fucking me. Through my orgasm. Through my aftershocks. Until he came. Deep inside me. I felt the heat of him. The pulse of him. The way his body tensed and shuddered against mine.

When it was over, he pulled out. Stepped back.

I did not move. I stayed bent over the desk. My body was shaking. My legs were weak. My release was drying on the papers.

I hated him.

I hated him so much.

I stood up. Pulled my pants up. Did not look at him.

"Get out," I said.

"Cassian."

"Get out of my office."

"Cassian."

"I do not want to see you. I do not want to talk to you. I do not want anything to do with you."

He walked toward me. I turned away. He grabbed my chin. Turned my face toward his.

"You can pretend all you want," he said. "But I know the truth. You still love me."

"I do not love you."

"Liar."

"I hate you."

"I know. You keep saying that."

"Because it is true."

He smiled. That infuriating smile.

"If it were true," he said, "you would not have come so hard on my cock."

I stared at him. My heart was pounding. My hands were shaking.

"Get out," I said again.

He let go of my chin. Walked toward the door. Paused with his hand on the handle.

"I will be back," he said. "Tomorrow. The day after. Every day. Until you stop running."

He left. The door closed behind him.

I stood in my office. The papers were scattered. The laptop was on the floor. My release was drying on the desk. My body was sore. My lips were swollen.

I hated him.

I hated him so much.