Chapter 20: The Shocking Bet.
CASSIAN
Control. It was the bedrock of my existence, the principle upon which I had built an empire. Yet, standing there with Lysandra's hand in mine, I was acting on something entirely different: a controlled impulse. A significant, logical part of my mind was screaming that agreeing to a blind bet with a man like Sebastian Croft was the height of recklessness. It was a variable I would never normally allow.
But a stronger, more primal part was driven by two undeniable forces: the sheer, unshakable confidence that I could not lose, and the newly discovered, deeply unsettling need to prove that invincibility to the woman beside me. I wanted to be the unassailable fortress in her eyes, especially after seeing the fear there just days before. Lately, my actions had been a series of firsts, a chain of decisions made not in the cold light of strategy, but in the warm, disorienting glow she seemed to cast. None of this was in the original plan. And yet, here I was.
A chilling thought followed the warmth: I hope she won't hate me when she learns the real reason I bought her at the auction.
The realization was like a quiet earthquake within me. I was becoming attached. It was a vulnerability, a critical flaw in my armor, and yet the thrill of it was dangerously addictive. I looked at her, at the way her brow was furrowed with concern for my reckless agreement, and a silent vow solidified in my mind: No matter what this is, no matter the cost, I will protect her.
Meanwhile, the moment the word "Deal" left Sebastian's lips, a familiar, sixth sense pricked at the back of my neck—the feeling of being watched with intense, unfriendly focus. My instincts, honed by a lifetime of threats both corporate and physical, kicked in. I turned, my gaze sweeping the crowd until it landed on her.
Diana. She was standing frozen, her expression a carefully constructed mask that couldn't quite hide the devastation beneath. She had clearly taken immense care with her appearance; the crimson gown was a statement, a weapon in its own right. But the look in her eyes—a fleeting, sharp stab of betrayal before she quickly averted her gaze—was the real message. She had seen everything: the bet, the intertwined hands.
"Diana," I called, my voice even, beckoning her over. It was better to control the confrontation than let it fester. As she approached, I felt the familiar, almost automatic sense of brotherly responsibility. It was a comfortable, platonic feeling, a stark contrast to the confusing torrent Lysandra provoked.
"Oh, what a remarkable coincidence," Diana said, her voice dripping with a sweetness I knew was pure acid. Her eyes flickered over me, then dismissively over Lysandra. "I didn't realize you had enough time to fritter away at a car exhibition, Cassian. I'm even more surprised you came with... her." The deliberate pause before the pronoun was a calculated insult.
A spark of anger, hot and immediate, flared in my chest. I tightened my grip on Lysandra's hand, pulling her just a fraction closer, a clear, physical rebuttal.
"Lysandra," I corrected, my tone leaving no room for ambiguity. "Her name is Lysandra." I could feel the tension in her arm, the slight tremor of discomfort at being the center of this silent war. I needed to end this. "We came to get a new car for her."
The effect was instantaneous. Lysandra stiffened beside me, her head whipping around to look at me, her eyes wide with utter shock. Diana's reaction was even more pronounced. Her perfectly composed face seemed to crack, her jaw going slack as if I'd physically struck her. She looked as if she'd seen a ghost, a specter of a future she had never considered.
Throughout this, Sebastian stood to the side, his hands tucked into his pockets, a huge, entertained grin plastered on his face. He was reveling in the drama, a spectator at his own personal theater.
"Oh, I never knew you were in the business of—" Diana began, her voice trembling slightly, but she was cut off.
"Mr. Vale! What an immense pleasure to finally meet you, sir." A woman I recognized as Kate, Diana's ever-present manager, inserted herself into the circle, extending a hand with professional eagerness. I ignored it, letting my gaze slide over her before returning to Diana. The woman faltered for only a second before pressing on. "Ahem. I am Kate, Miss Moreau's manager. She told me so much about you."
I offered a curt, silent nod, a gesture of bare-minimum acknowledgement that spoke volumes of my disinterest.
Sensing the glacial atmosphere, Kate quickly moved to extract her client. "We'll see you later, Mr. Vale," she said, then turned to Diana, her voice taking on a purposeful, business-like edge. "Diana, the CEO of Aether Animation is waiting. He's very keen to discuss the collaboration we mentioned." It was a flimsy but effective exit strategy.
"Goodbye, Diana," I said, my tone final.
As they retreated into the crowd, Sebastian let out a low, appreciative chuckle. "It seems you have 'a lot' to attend to later, Mr. Cassian," he bantered, his amusement plain.
I ignored the jab. The game was what mattered now. "The bet, Sebastian. What are the terms?"
To my surprise, the amused glint in his eyes vanished, replaced by a flat, serious intensity. The shift was jarring. This was no longer a game for him, either. Because, ten percent of his company's share was on the line.
"I want a race."
The answer was so absurdly simple I almost laughed. A slow, confident smile spread across my face. "Are you planning to gift me your company as an early birthday present? You know you can't beat me. You never have."
He didn't smile back. "I know," he admitted, a flicker of old resentment in his eyes. "But the race won't be between us."
That gave me pause. My smile faded. "If it's not between us, then who?"
He lifted his hand, and with a deliberate, taunting slowness, he pointed directly at Lysandra.
"When the live auction begins," he explained, his voice cool and precise, "we will each purchase one car from the block. No limits, no rules on what we buy. Whichever car we acquire will be the vehicle used. The race will be between me," he paused, his gaze locking onto a now-pale Lysandra, "and her."