Chapter 13: The Transfer

NOAH

I stumbled out of Cassian’s office on shaky legs, my throat raw, my pants uncomfortably damp, and my ego bruised beyond recognition.

The bathroom. I needed the bathroom.

I practically fled down the hallway, ignoring the curious stares from passing coworkers, and locked myself in the nearest stall. My hands were trembling as I cleaned myself up, dabbing uselessly at the wet spot on my pants with toilet paper.

This is insane. This is fucking insane.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror above the sink. Face flushed. Eyes glassy. Lips slightly swollen.

I looked wrecked.

And the worst part?

The worst part was the traitorous heat still pooling low in my stomach. The ache. The way my body was still humming with leftover arousal despite everything.

Why did I like that?

No. No, I didn’t like it. I couldn’t have liked it.

I wasn’t…

I wasn’t gay.

Was I?

I’d never felt anything like that toward men before. Never looked at a guy and thought… well, anything, really. Sure, there were those two incidents in high school and college, but those were just experiments. Curiosity. Heat of the moment stuff that didn’t mean anything.

Right?

Right?

My brain spiraled, replaying the way Cassian had gripped my hair, the way his voice had dropped into that low, commanding tone, the way he’d looked at me like I was something he owned…

Stop. Stop thinking about it.

I splashed cold water on my face, took a shaky breath, and forced myself to leave the bathroom.

***

I was halfway down the hall, head down, trying to blend into the walls, when a sharp voice cut through my fog.

“Bennett!”

I froze.

My team leader, Ms. Kwon, was standing in the doorway of our department with her arms crossed, glaring at me like I’d just committed a crime.

“Why are you hovering in the hallway like a lost intern?” she snapped. “Did you get fired?”

“No,” I said quickly, voice hoarse. I cleared my throat. “No, I didn’t get fired.”

“Then get back to work.”

I nodded and hurried past her, feeling the weight of a dozen pairs of eyes following me as I walked to my desk.

The whispers started immediately.

“I thought he was done for.”

“What did the CEO say to him?”

“He was in there for like twenty minutes.”

“Maybe he’s getting promoted.”

“Or demoted.”

I slumped into my chair, head hung low, trying to block out the noise.

This was it. This was my life now.

Quietly ruined by a man I’d punched in a drunken rage. A man my ex-girlfriend had left me for. A man who now owned me in every possible way.

The thought of Lila made my chest ache.

I pulled out my phone, almost against my will, and opened Instagram.

She’d posted.

Of course she had.

The first photo was a mirror selfie at her office, looking effortlessly beautiful in a crisp blazer. The caption read: Leveling up ✨💼

I scrolled.

The next post was a quote graphic in soft pink and gold:

“Sometimes you have to leave the comfortable to find the extraordinary. No regrets. 💋”

My stomach twisted.

The third post was worse.

A candid shot of her laughing at some rooftop bar, drink in hand, surrounded by people who looked like they’d never known a single day of struggle in their lives.

The caption:

“Traded boring for breathtaking. Best decision I ever made. 🥂”

I stared at the screen, throat tight, eyes stinging.

She really did move on that fast.

Like I never existed.

Before I could spiral further, my phone was suddenly yanked out of my hands.

“Hey!” I looked up, startled.

Mason was standing over me, scrolling through my phone with a disapproving frown.

“Give it back,” I said, reaching for it.

He held it out of reach, still scrolling. “Nope. Not until you stop moping over Lila like a sad puppy.”

“I’m not—”

“You are.” He squinted at the screen. “Jesus, Noah. She’s posting thirst traps and you’re here torturing yourself. You need to move on, man.”

“I know that,” I muttered.

“Then let’s get you back out there.” Mason’s face lit up like he’d just solved world hunger. “I can take you to a mixer this weekend. Or… ooh, we could make you a dating app profile. You’d clean up, dude. Just gotta get some better pictures and—”

“Right,” I said weakly. “New… chicks.”

New chicks. A new girl to meet… Rather than Lila,

My brain immediately flashed back to twenty minutes ago. To Cassian’s office. To his hands in my hair. To his dick shoved down my throat, thick and heavy and..

My face exploded in heat.

Mason burst out laughing. “Dude! You’re already thinking dirty thoughts! See? You are excited!”

“I’m not—” I grabbed for my phone again. “Just give me my phone, man.”

He finally handed it over, still grinning. “You’re gonna be fine, Noah. Trust me.”

I shoved the phone into my pocket, face still burning.

“But seriously,” Mason said, leaning against my desk. “What was up with you freezing earlier? When the CEO walked in? You looked like you saw a ghost.”

I hesitated. “He… he looked a lot like the guy I punched. At the club.”

Mason’s eyes widened. “Wait. Was it—?”

“No,” I lied quickly. “No, it wasn’t him. Just… similar.”

Mason seemed to buy it. “Damn. That would’ve been insane.”

You have no idea.

“So what did he say to you?” Mason asked, lowering his voice. “When he called you into his office? You were in there forever. I honestly thought you were getting canned.”

It’s more what he did to me.

I clenched my jaw. “He’s an asshole,” I muttered.

Mason blinked. “What?”

“Cassian Wolfe,” I said, louder now, not caring who heard. “He’s a fucking asshole.”

Mason stared at me like I’d just signed my own death warrant. “Dude. You can’t just—”

“Did he cut your paycheck or something?” Mason whispered urgently.

“Worse,” I muttered.

“Worse? What’s worse than—?”

“Bennett! Carter!”

We both jumped.

Ms. Kwon was storming toward us, tablet in hand, face set in a grim mask of efficiency.

“New project just dropped from the top floor,” she announced, her voice cutting through the department like a whip. “We’re launching a rebranding campaign for the new luxury development project in collaboration with Hendrix Corporation. Full media rollout… digital, print, events. The CEO wants preliminary concepts by end of week.”

A collective groan rippled through the department.

Mason bolted back to his desk.

Everyone turned into work machines in an instant, fingers flying across keyboards, voices overlapping as teams formed and strategies took shape.

I started to open my laptop.

“Not you,” Ms. Kwon said.

I froze.

She looked down at her tablet, then back at me, expression unreadable.

“You’re being transferred.”

The room went silent.

Every head turned toward me.

“Transferred?” I repeated, voice hollow.

“Executive liaison assistant,” she said flatly. “Effective immediately. You’ll be working directly under the CEO’s office until further notice.”

No.

No, no, no—

Whispers erupted around me.

“Wait, seriously?”

“That’s insane.”

“Isn’t that basically a promotion?”

“Or a death sentence.”

Mason was staring at me, mouth open.

My body went cold.

I knew exactly whose doing this was.

Cassian.

Of course it was Cassian.

Ms. Kwon was still talking, but I couldn’t hear her anymore. My ears were ringing.

“Pack your things,” she said. “You start upstairs in an hour.”

And just like that, my quiet, miserable life was officially over.

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