Chapter 157: Safety

NOAH

The transition from the cabin of a private jet to the terminal floor felt like stepping between two different dimensions.

We moved through a private section of the airport… a place designed specifically to ensure people like Cassian Wolfe never had to brush shoulders with the general public.

There were no crying infants, no frantic travelers checking monitors, and no endless security lines. Instead, there were sleek, charcoal-gray hallways, silent escalators, and security personnel who didn’t just nod, but practically bowed as Cassian strode past.

I followed a half-step behind him, my legs still feeling the phantom vibration of the flight. Relief should have been the only thing I felt. I was home.

After nearly a month of being buried under the weight of Cassian’s impossible demands, the grueling site inspections in Spain, the glitz of a gala that turned into a nightmare, and the jagged trauma of Alex’s betrayal, I was finally on familiar soil. I was safe.

But safety was proving to be a complicated emotion.

As we walked, my internal state was a spectacular mess. For the past few days, since the incident at the gala, my mind had been eerily quiet… a muffled, protective shutdown.

It was as if my brain had decided the reality of what almost happened was too loud, so it turned the volume down to a low hum. But now, breathing in the familiar, slightly humid air of home, the engine was starting to turn over.

The usual chaotic, overly dramatic monologue that defined my existence was coming back online, and it was bringing a host of uncomfortable questions with it.

Am I still employed? The thought hit me like a bucket of ice water. Do I even have a job to go back to?

Cassian had mentioned “taking care of me,” and he’d been protective, sure, but we hadn’t actually discussed the status of my contract.

I had been “fired” once already. Did the rescue in Spain count as a rehiring? Or was I just a loose end he was neatly tying up before cutting me loose for good?

I wanted to ask, the words burning at the back of my throat, but the fear of the answer kept me silent. If he said, “You’re free to go,” I wasn’t entirely sure I’d be able to walk away without shattering.

We reached the exit, the heavy glass doors sliding open to reveal a crisp morning. A single, sleek black car sat idling at the curb, a driver standing at the ready.

“I had a car arranged for you,” Cassian said, his voice level and professional. He gestured toward the vehicle. “To take you home.”

My stomach dropped into my shoes. For me? Not us? Wait… Us? What the hell was I even expecting? That’d he’d take me to his place?

The realization was a physical blow. There was no offer to go back to his place to finish the “recovery” process.

There was no “see you at the office tomorrow.” It was a separation. A clean break. We were moving back to our respective corners… the billionaire boss and the… whatever I was now.

The distance between us, which had shrunk to inches in the cabin of that plane, suddenly felt like a canyon.

“Cassian, I— ” I started, my voice small and wavering. I forced myself to look at him. “About work, I wanted to—”

My sentence was cut short by the sharp, demanding ring of his phone. Cassian pulled it out, his expression shifting instantly as he looked at the caller ID. His eyes darkened with focus… business, serious and immediate.

“I need to take this,” he said, giving me a brief, almost apologetic glance. He swiped the screen. “Yes?”

He walked a few steps away, giving me a semblance of privacy, but in the quiet of the private terminal exit, I could still hear the cool, authoritative tone of his voice.

He was already back in his world. The world of mergers, power plays, and calculated risks. I was just a footnote in a trip that had gone off the rails.

Mid-call, he paused, covering the phone’s speaker with his hand. He turned back to me, his gaze expectant. “What were you going to say?”

I looked at him, and the words died in my throat. He looked so busy, so important. My questions about my measly paycheck and my uncertain future felt pathetic in the face of whatever crisis was on the other end of that line. I was just an interruption.

“Nothing,” I lied, my voice barely audible. “It’s nothing. I should go.”

Cassian studied me for a beat, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. He knew I was lying… he always knew… but the phone was vibrating in his hand, a silent reminder of his real life. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, forcing a weak smile that felt like it was made of lead. “It’s fine.”

It wasn’t fine. It was the opposite of fine.

I turned toward the car. The driver opened the door, and I slid into the backseat, the leather feeling cold and impersonal.

I didn’t wait for the driver to close the door before I looked back through the window. Cassian was already walking toward his own awaiting vehicle, his phone pressed to his ear, his head tilted as he listened to someone far more important than me. He didn’t watch me leave.

The engine purred to life, and as the car pulled away, I watched his figure get smaller and smaller through the rear window until we turned a corner and he disappeared entirely.

The drive through the morning traffic was agonizingly quiet. This wasn’t Cassian’s usual driver…

There was no more playful banter with Cyan, no heavy, brooding silence from a man who smelled like expensive cedarwood and power.

Now I was just stuck with a hired car service. Impersonal. Impenetrable.

As we moved deeper into the city, my mind finally hit full throttle.

This is better, I told myself, clutching my bag to my chest. This is what you wanted, right? You wanted a quiet life. You wanted to be away from the stress and the psychotic demands. This should be a relief.

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