Chapter 32 Scandalous

Chapter 32 Scandalous
Faustina,

The coldness of the water bit into my skin. Standing under the shower, I stared at the faint bruises and bite marks scattered across my neck and shoulders. My fingers brushed over them, trembling slightly as I tried to make sense of everything that had happened. The water ran down my body, hot at first, then freezing as if mocking the confusion inside me.

I let myself fall for this, no, I threw myself into it. I enjoyed every second of it like I was desperate. How could I have allowed that? I trained for years to resist the pull, to fight the overwhelming instinct that ties a wolf to its mate. I built walls around my emotions, locked them away, convinced that I could outsmart the bond.

Yet the moment he kissed me, all those walls collapsed. I didn’t just let him kiss me, I returned it. I begged him.

"Damn!" I hissed, slamming my fist against the shower wall. The sharp sting in my knuckles was nothing compared to the humiliation crawling under my skin. My face burned, and I dropped to my knees, letting the water pour over me. My wet hair clung to my face as I pressed my palm against the cold tile, my chest heaving.

I begged my enemy, the man who slaughtered my parents, to keep going. Like some pathetic, shameless fool.

This was his fault. If he hadn’t ordered me to get close to Cassius, to seduce him, none of this would have happened.

"Ugh! We didn’t even use protection," I muttered under my breath, biting the inside of my cheek in frustration. "Damn it. I don’t want to take more medicine. I’ll ask Lily for some herbs."

I turned off the shower, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it tightly around my body. Taking a deep breath, I tried to compose myself, but the anger and embarrassment tangled together until I couldn’t tell which was stronger.

After getting dressed, I went downstairs. Cassius’s scent hit me before I even reached the bottom step. It lingered everywhere, on the furniture, in the air, even in the faint warmth that still clung to the walls. It was possessive, marking the entire house as his territory.

The sound of waves outside and the clinking of utensils drifted in. For a brief moment, I was pulled back into the past. I remembered mornings when I would sling a backpack over my shoulder, grab the sandwich Mom made, and rush out of the door. Cassius would be there, leaning casually against the fence with that familiar smirk that used to annoy me.

"I have been waiting, Miss Thorne!"

The voice pulled me back to the present. I turned sharply to find Cassius standing by the kitchen table, leaning with one hand on its edge and the other holding his phone. His expression was unreadable, calm, cold, and too composed for my liking. His gaze lifted to me, and for a moment, it felt like the air froze. His dark eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made it difficult to breathe.

"You are the first person who made me wait," he said slowly, voice deep and steady. "I should praise your bravery." His tone wasn’t playful; it carried a quiet warning, an unspoken reminder of who he was.

I forced a smirk, though my stomach twisted at the dominance radiating off him. "Thirty minutes is really too much, Mr. Brightblade. But thanks to your actions, I might end up suffering for eighteen years." I dragged a chair out and sat down with deliberate calm.

His expression flickered. His eyes darkened, sharp and narrow. "Eighteen years? What are you talking about?"

"What I meant is," I sat straighter, meeting his gaze, "you didn’t use any kind of protection, Mr. Brightblade. And it’s quite scandalous that you slept with your business partner just hours after your engagement was announced. If I get pregnant right now, I’ll have to deal with you and this situation for eighteen long years."

He froze for a fraction of a second. His jaw tightened, and his thumb brushed the edge of the glass he was holding. The silence that followed was deafening. Then, without a word, he placed a glass of orange juice in front of me and sat down across the table. His movements were measured, precise, too controlled.

"So, you’re saying you may get pregnant?" His voice was even, but there was something cold beneath the surface.

"Well, I’ll do everything not to. So don’t worry," I said, lowering my eyes to the table. "But,"

My words faltered when I saw the breakfast he’d prepared. The food was perfect, eggs cooked just right, bread toasted golden brown, fruit sliced neatly, salad arranged with impossible precision. The contrast between his ruthless nature and the quiet domesticity of the scene made my chest tighten in confusion.

"I don’t want to get involved in your personal life anymore," I said firmly. My voice didn’t shake, but my fingers did as I reached for the fork.

He didn’t respond. He only kept eating, each movement deliberate. The quiet dominance in his posture said more than words ever could. His gaze occasionally flicked up to me, sharp and assessing, before returning to his meal. The silence stretched long, broken only by the waves outside and the faint clink of cutlery.

I told myself he might be feeling guilty, but the thought made me laugh inside. Cassius Brightblade didn’t feel guilt. Not for me, not for anyone.

If anyone should feel disgusted, it should be me. I slept with the killer. The son of the killers. And worst of all, I enjoyed it.

I forced myself to finish breakfast quietly. Every bite felt heavy, but I didn’t let it show. When his phone began ringing, his attention shifted. He glanced at the screen, then at me.

"Let’s schedule a meeting soon, Miss Thorne."

I wiped my lips with a napkin and nodded calmly. "Sure."

He stood, sliding his chair back. The air around him changed again, solid, cold, authoritative. Without another glance, he left the house. His scent trailed behind him, wrapping around the room like a silent warning.

I crossed my arms, staring at the doorway long after he was gone. I didn’t know what would come next, but one thing was clear. This could be an advantage. I wouldn’t let myself get pregnant, but I also wouldn’t waste this opportunity. He would tread carefully around me now.

For the moment, that was enough.

As I sat back and stared out at the gray morning sky, a strange ache pressed at my lower back. I rested my head on the edge of the table, letting out a long breath. The house felt too quiet without him, which only annoyed me more.

A knock broke through the silence.

"Cassius?" I called softly, frowning. Maybe he’d forgotten something.

I stood up and walked to the door, still half-lost in thought. But when I opened it, I froze.

Luna Queen stood on the porch. Her hair was disheveled, her face pale and tense, eyes carrying a storm of exhaustion and desperation.

"Can I have a talk with you, Miss Thorne?" she asked, her voice unsteady.

A slow smirk curved my lips. I had been waiting for this.

"Sure," I said, stepping aside. "I’m always here for you."