Chapter 16 Love or lust?
Chapter 16 Love or lust?
CASSIAN
I found myself staring, and for a dangerously long moment, I was completely lost. The woman standing at the top of the grand staircase was a vision, a ghost from a past I never had. The silver Chanel gown was more than just fabric; it was liquid moonlight, draped over a form that made my breath catch in my throat. It clung to her in a way that was both elegant and devastating, shimmering with every slight movement as if woven from starlight itself. Like it was made for her, and her alone.
“Hmmm, Cassian? Are you feeling well?”
Her voice, laced with a touch of concern, pulled me back from the precipice of my own thoughts. I blinked, realizing I had been standing in silence for what must have been an awkwardly long time.
“I’m… I’m fine,” I managed, the words feeling clumsy.
A delicate frown touched her perfectly painted lips. “Your expression says the exact opposite of fine. Why is your forehead sweaty?”
I touched my brow, and my fingers came away damp. Shit. A cold, calculating man who commands boardrooms and continents, brought to a nervous sweat by a woman in a dress. The irony was not lost on me.
“It’s nothing,” I said, reaching into the inner pocket of my Tom Ford tuxedo for a handkerchief. “It’s probably just… warm in here.”
Her eyes flickered towards the nearest air conditioning vent, from which a steady, frigid breeze was emanating. “Cassian, the thermostat is set to sixty-eight degrees. I’m pretty sure the air conditioning is blowing at full capacity. Are you sure you’re okay? This week has been a lot, and you haven’t rested at all. It’s not a bad thing if we reschedule this little… surprise.”
She didn’t understand. The discomfort wasn't from fatigue. It was from her. The sheer, overwhelming effect of her beauty, the way the gown highlighted the curve of her hip, the elegant line of her neck. It was a distraction I had not accounted for, a variable that was rapidly becoming a constant in my calculations.
“No,” I said, my voice firmer than I intended. I forced a calm I didn’t feel. “No, I am absolutely fine. We should be on our way. Today will be… eventful.”
A smile, tentative yet radiant, broke across her face. She looked both anxious and excited, a combination that sent another unwelcome jolt through my system. “Hmm… if you say so. Shall we?”
I offered my arm, and she placed her hand in the crook of my elbow. Her touch was light, but I felt it like a brand. We walked through the mansion’s silent halls and out into the bright morning.
As soon as we stepped into the underground garage, the transformation was immediate. The nervous woman vanished, replaced by the fierce, vibrant creature I’d seen behind the wheel of the Koenigsegg. Her eyes widened, scanning the line of vehicles with the keen appreciation of a connoisseur. I could feel the excitement humming through her.
“Do you want to drive?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
She nodded rapidly, a gesture so genuinely eager and unguarded that it struck me as incredibly… cute. The thought was absurd. Cute was not a word in my lexicon. Yet, there it was.
She slipped her arm from mine and practically floated towards the low-slung, matte-black hypercar. “God, why am I finding her really cute today?” I muttered under my breath, the question hanging in the sterile air of the garage.
I followed at a more measured pace, reaching the driver’s side before her and opening the dihedral door, which swung upward like a beetle’s wing. “Get in, let’s—”
She didn’t let me finish, sliding into the carbon-fiber bucket seat with a grace that spoke of pure instinct. I closed the door behind her and rounded the car to where Felix was holding the passenger door open, a knowing look in his eyes that I chose to ignore.
“Clear the route to the exhibition center. Maintain a discrete perimeter. We’ll meet you there,” I instructed him.
“Understood, sir,” he replied with a curt nod before heading to the lead SUV.
I settled into the passenger seat. The cockpit was intimate, a cocoon of technology and luxury. Lysandra’s hands were already dancing over the controls, her touch sure and familiar. She didn’t fumble for the start button this time. With a press, the engine behind us awoke with a deep, guttural roar that vibrated through the very frame of the car.
She didn’t hesitate. She guided the car out of the garage and up the ramp with a surgeon’s precision, the roar of the engine echoing off the concrete walls. As we passed through the gates of Aethelgard and onto the open road, she pushed the accelerator, the force pressing us back into our seats. A genuine, unburdened laugh escaped her lips, a sound I realized I had never truly heard before. It was infectious.
After twenty minutes of exhilarating speed, we arrived at the sprawling convention center. The place was teeming with life, a temple for automotive worshipers.
She brought the car to a smooth stop in the reserved VIP area, her eyes wide as saucers as she took in the banners and the crowds. “This is where we were coming? Oh my God! They’re having the Global Supercar Show!”
“I deduced you might appreciate it,” I said, feigning nonchalance. “And since the organizers sent the invitation for the third time, I thought I might finally grace them with my presence. They were becoming… persistent.”
She turned to me, her expression one of utter disbelief. “‘Appreciate it?’ Cassian, I’ve dreamed of coming to this since I was a teenager! Watching these machines up close… this is a dream come true for me. And you… you just ‘grace them with your presence’? Who even are you to turn down an invitation to the biggest car show on earth? They should have given the invitation to me. I’d have been happy just watching from the parking lot!”
I scratched the back of my neck, a rare, awkward gesture. “Huh… I am Cassian Vale.”
She rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. “Yes, I’m aware. Let’s go inside before you say something even more infuriatingly obvious.”
I exited the car and moved to open her door, but she was already out, her excitement making her impatient. My security team had already formed a seamless, impenetrable cordon between us and the throng of photographers shouting our names, their cameras clicking like a swarm of metallic insects.
I took her hand again, this time lacing my fingers with hers. It felt surprisingly natural. As we walked into the main hall, the sheer scale of the event unfolded before us—a cathedral of chrome, carbon fiber, and horsepower.
She was a whirlwind of energy, pulling me gently from one exhibit to the next. “Cassian, look! Isn’t that the new Bugatti Mistral? And over there! That’s the Pagani Huayra R! Listen, you can hear it! Oh, and look at the classic Jaguar D-Type! The curves are just perfect!”
She chattered non-stop, her knowledge of every model’s specs and history both impressive and endearing. For the first time in what felt like years, I wasn’t thinking about hostile takeovers or security threats. I was just watching her, captivated by her unbridled joy.
Felix and the team fell back, giving us a semblance of space as we immersed ourselves in the spectacle. We had barely made it past the first row of hypercars when a voice, slick as oil and twice as familiar, cut through the hum of the crowd.
“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. And he’s brought his shiny little toy.”