Chapter 65: A good kisser

NOAH

The departure of Cassian felt like the removal of a localized gravity well. One moment I was being crushed by his heavy, brooding presence, and the next, I was floating in a vacuum of pink hair and silk swatches.

“Alright, cupcake!” Cyan clapped his hands, his rings clicking together like tiny castanets. “Enough staring at the gold-plated equipment. It’s not going to jump out and bite you. Unless you want it to? No? Okay. Staff! Bring out the ’Wolfe Special’ collection! We have a virgin to sacrifice to the altar of high fashion!”

Within minutes, the office, which was already a sensory nightmare, became a high-speed assembly line of luxury. Racks of suits were wheeled in, the hangers clinking with a sound that screamed expensive. There were velvets, Italian wools, silks in shades of midnight, charcoal, and deep forest green.

Cyan didn’t just dress me; he curated me. He was like a whirlwind, throwing jackets over my shoulders, tugging at my waist, and humming to himself.

“Stand straight, Noah! Shoulders back! You have lovely lines, you know. A bit on the slender side, but Cassie likes them lean. Easier to toss around, I suppose,” Cyan chirped, adjusting the lapels of a stunning charcoal blazer.

Despite my initial terror, I found myself relaxing. Cyan’s energy was like a sugar high, exhausting, but undeniably infectious. He complimented my eyes, my hair, and the way I looked in a slim-cut trouser. For the first time since landing in Spain, I wasn’t being stared at like a liability or a toy. I felt… seen.

“You have a good eye for this,” I admitted, looking at my reflection. I looked like a completely different person. Not just an assistant, but someone who actually belonged in those high-end boardrooms.

“Of course I do, darling! I’m a genius,” Cyan said, circling me like a shark. He reached up to adjust my collar, his fingers nimble and quick. “So, tell me. What’s it like working for the Big Bad Wolf? Is he as terrifying as he looks in the tabloids?”

I tried to keep my voice professional, remembering Cassian’s warning about being a ’traitor.’ “He’s… professional. Very demanding, obviously. But he’s fair. He expects excellence.”

Cyan stopped moving. He stared at me for three seconds before doubling over, letting out a laugh so loud it probably rattled the dildo monuments in the corner.

“Bullshit!” he cackled, wiping a tear from his eye. “Professional? Fair? Noah, honey, we’re talking about Cassian Wolfe. The man has the temperament of a cornered honey badger and the patience of a ticking time bomb!”

I felt my face heat up. “He’s… intense. But I manage.”

Cyan’s grin turned mischievous. He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “He’s mean, isn’t he? Cold? A little sadistic? He likes to see you squirm, doesn’t he?” He winked. “But you already know that, don’t you? You’ve seen the teeth behind the suit.”

I looked away, pretending to be very interested in a nearby cufflink. “He’s just my boss, Cyan.”

“Oh, darling, please. I’ve known Cassie since we were roommates in a very grey, very stone-walled establishment,” Cyan said, his voice light and airy as he moved back to my collar. “He doesn’t keep ’just assistants’ around for this long. Not ones that look like you.”

He tugged at my collar, smoothing the fabric over my throat. Then, he dropped the bomb with the casualness of someone mentioning the weather.

“Well, at least he’s a good kisser. That’s something, right? Makes the brooding worth it.”

I froze.

My body went completely rigid. It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving me gasping in a vacuum. My brain didn’t just short-circuit; it experienced a total power failure.

Cyan was watching me. He wasn’t even pretending to work anymore. He was leaning back, his head tilted, his eyes scanning every micro-expression on my burning face. He saw the way my pupils dilated, the way my jaw locked, the way my ears turned a shade of red that probably matched his hair.

“I, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I managed to choke out. My voice sounded like it belonged to someone else. Someone who was currently drowning.

“Oh, you totally do,” Cyan purred, a devilish smile spreading across his face. “Click, click, click. I can hear the gears turning in that pretty little head, Noah.”

“I, no, really, I don’t, we aren’t, ”

“Honey, your face is screaming what your mouth is trying to hide,” Cyan laughed. He leaned in close, his nose almost touching mine. “And don’t worry. I’m not jealous. I’ve had my turn with the Wolf. I’m just glad to see he hasn’t lost his touch.”

My heart was hammering so hard against my ribs I thought it might actually break through the charcoal wool of the jacket. How does he know? The realization hit me like a physical blow. Cyan had kissed Cassian. Not just the pecks on the lips in the lobby, real, intimate kisses. He knew what Cassian tasted like. He knew the way Cassian’s hands felt when they tightened on someone.

A sharp, hot spike of something ugly flared in my chest. It wasn’t just shock. It was… jealousy. It was a possessive, territorial snarl in the back of my mind that said Mine.

Which was insane. Cassian wasn’t mine. He was my boss. He was a criminal. He was a man who treated me like a pawn. But the thought of Cyan, of anyone, knowing the things I knew about Cassian made me want to scream.

“There’s nothing, we’re not, he’s just my boss,” I repeated, my voice shaky and utterly unconvincing even to my own ears.

Cyan smirked, patting my cheek condescendingly. “Sure, sure, cupcake. Whatever you say. We’ll just pretend you didn’t look like you were about to faint when I mentioned his tongue.”

He finally backed off, though the knowing look stayed plastered on his face. I felt exposed. Naked. Like he’d stripped away the suit and the professional façade and seen the messy, confused disaster underneath.

“I’m starving!” Cyan announced, abruptly changing the subject as he checked a gold-encrusted phone. “Let’s order something. My treat! What do you want? Thai? Chinese? Tapas? I know a place that does the most divine spicy noodles.”

“Oh, um… anything is fine,” I said, desperately trying to steady my breathing. “I don’t want to impose.”

“Impose? Darling, I’m using Cassian’s credit card. We could order the entire menu and he wouldn’t even notice,” Cyan laughed. “Pick something! Don’t be shy. A growing boy needs his energy if he’s going to keep up with a Wolfe.”

I eventually settled on some simple noodles, too overwhelmed to make a real decision. While we waited for the food, the atmosphere shifted. Cyan stopped the interrogation and started telling stories, hilarious, exaggerated tales of his clients, the fashion world, and how he’d once accidentally dyed a duchess’s poodle pink.

I sat there, nodding and laughing in the right places, but my mind was a million miles away. I kept looking at the door, half-expecting Cassian to burst in, and half-dreading it. Every time I looked at Cyan, I saw the history he shared with my boss. The prison. The secrets. The kisses.

I have a type, Cassie. You’ve always had a thing for the pretty, helpless ones.

Was that all I was? A type? A repeat of a pattern Cassian had been playing out since his days behind bars?

The food had barely arrived when Cassian stepped back in.

He looked different. The exhaustion was still there, but it was sharpened by a cold, focused energy. He’d clearly handled whatever ’business’ had called him away, and he looked ready to break something else.

His eyes immediately found mine. He didn’t say anything, but the air in the room seemed to rush toward him, leaving me lightheaded again.

“We need to go,” Cassian said, his voice a clipped, low rumble. “Back to the suite. Now.”

Cyan let out a dramatic, heartbroken wail. He dropped his chopsticks and lunged for my arm, clinging to it like a limpet. “No way! I’m not done having fun with this cutie yet! We were just getting to the dessert portion of the evening!”

Cassian’s gaze flicked to Cyan’s hand on my arm. His jaw tightened, a small muscle leaping in his cheek. “Not happening, Cyan. Let go.”

“You’re no fun, Cassie! You always take your toys away just when things get interesting!” Cyan pouted, though he slowly released his grip.

I stood up, feeling like a prize being fought over by two predators. I was wearing a midnight blue suit that felt like a second skin, and I could feel Cassian’s eyes dragging over the fit of it.

“Did you get the suits?” Cassian asked, his voice dropping an octave as his gaze lingered on my waist.

“Six of them,” Cyan chirped, his mischievous mood returning. “And he looks delicious in all of them. You’re welcome.”

Cassian didn’t thank him. He just looked at me, his expression unreadable but his presence overwhelming. “Come on, Noah. We’re leaving.”

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