Chapter 230: A regular dinner

NOAH

My mind screamed at me to stop but I continued anyways.

“You don’t need to compromise anything for me. I wouldn’t want to feel like you’re making sacrifices for my sake. It’s fine. Really.”

I looked away, staring at the distant city lights. “And besides… I’m going to be busy too. I’m going to spend more time with Mason. We’re going to the gym together. Every day. So.”

Cassian went still. “The gym?” He repeated the word with a note of mild disbelief, as if I’d just told him I was joining the circus. “Noah.”

“What?”

“You seem upset.”

The bluntness of it was the final straw. “I am upset!” I snapped, turning back to him, my eyes stinging. “So what? It has nothing to do with you. I’m just… I’m ruining this. I was supposed to be normal and eat dinner and be fine, but I’m clearly not fine.”

Your attachment issues are showing, my brain screamed. Please, for the love of god, stop talking.

Cassian didn’t pull back. He didn’t mock me. He did the opposite.

His hand found my face, his fingers sliding behind my ear while his thumb moved slowly, agonizingly, across my lower lip.

The gentleness of the gesture was a physical ache. It was a touch that didn’t belong to a CEO or a “project” manager. It was a touch that belonged to someone who had been paying attention to something worth it.

He leaned in, pulling me toward him until our foreheads were almost touching. “You really are terrible at pretending you know that?” he whispered.

It wasn’t a taunt. It was an acknowledgement.

Cassian had been seeing what I thought I was hiding.

Then his lips found mine.

The mountain view, the expensive linen, the cool evening breeze, it all vanished. The world narrowed down to the taste of him and the way my heart seemed to stop and restart in the same breath.

In the middle of that kiss, I understood everything I’d been trying to deny. He knew. He’d known all along. Every time I’d tried to perform competence, every time I’d tried to hide how fast I was falling, he’d been watching the descent.

And he was kissing me anyway.

But as he pulled back, just for a second, I saw his face. Before the composed certainty returned, there was a flicker of something raw.

It looked like regret.

It looked like he was sorry for exactly how much he was about to ruin me.

The problem was that, I didn’t know what kind of ruin it was going to be.

“You’re coming home with me,” he said, his voice a low, rough command.

I felt the stubbornness flare one last time, a dying ember. “And what if I say no?”

Cassian didn’t blink. He didn’t move his hand from my jaw. He just waited, watching me with a gaze that made my blood turn to liquid.

He knew I was asking because I needed to hear the answer.

The smirk arrived, slow, devastating, and utterly predatory. “Then I’ll just have to fuck you here.”

Tch. I saw it coming.

The butterflies in my chest didn’t just flutter; they erupted. A wave of heat followed, my body responding to the words like they were a program it had been waiting to run. It was unfair. He did this effortlessly. He navigated these moments with a grace I would never possess.

“Whatever,” I muttered, my voice breathy and betrayed.

“That counts as a yes,” Cassian said.

He returned to his seat as if he hadn’t just upended my entire internal world. He reclaimed the menu, summoned the server with a single eye contact , and the world resumed its professional orbit as if we hadn’t just been on the verge of a scandal.

I received the menu back, but the words were just blurry shapes on the page. My mind was in a dozen different places, most of them involving Cassian’s villa and the things he’d said he would do to me.

I could feel him watching me from across the table. I didn’t need to look up to know he was wearing that dangerous, satisfied smile.

“Stop gawking,” I whispered, keeping my eyes on the menu.

“It’s a little hypocritical, don’t you think? Acting shy now,” Cassian said, his voice carrying just enough to reach me. “Given that I’ve seen every part of you. Given that I know exactly what your face looks like when I’m hitting the right spot and what sounds you make right before you—”

I heard the rhythmic footsteps of the server approaching. My brain registered the uniform and the professional gait mid-sentence.

I didn’t think. I stood up so fast my chair nearly toppled, and I lunged across the table, my hand slamming directly over Cassian’s mouth.

“Please stop talking you psycho,” I hissed.

The server, a man who looked like he’d been trained in the finest houses in Europe, stopped dead. He looked at me, then at my hand on the CEO of XUM’s face, then back at me.

Cassian didn’t move. He just looked at me over the top of my palm, his eyes bright with a truly terrifying amount of amusement.

“I—good evening,” the server stammered, his professional mask cracking for the first time in probably twenty years. “Have you… are you ready to order?”

Cassian attempted to speak through my hand. It was an unintelligible series of muffled vowels, but his eyes told me he was still trying to finish the sentence about my vocalizations.

“We’re ready!” I said, my voice an octave too high. With my free hand, I pointed blindly at the most expensive-looking thing on the menu. “That one. For both of us. Whatever that is, that’s what we’re having. Thank you. We’re great. You can go now.”

The server looked at Cassian, his eyes pleading for some form of corporate confirmation. “Sir, does that—”

I glared at Cassian, my fingers pressing a little harder against his lips.

Cassian simply gave the server a thumbs-up. He looked entirely serene, as if being silenced by his assistant in a five-star restaurant was part of his weekly routine.

The server retreated with the energy of a man who was going to go into the kitchen and drink a bottle of cooking wine.

I finally removed my hand and collapsed back into my chair, letting out a long, dramatic sigh that felt like it came from my soul.

“You have a serious mental problem,” I told him, rubbing my temples.

Cassian just picked up his water glass, looking out at the mountains with a look of perfect, unbothered peace. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Noah. I thought that went quite well.”

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