10. The Bet

Cassian's phone buzzed on the nightstand, the sound cutting through the silence of his dimly lit room. His jaw clenched as he reached for it, his muscles still taut from the events of the night. His eyes scanned the message, and his entire body stiffened.

"Saw you tonight walking with that perfect river girl. So you're actually taking this bet seriously, good to know."

The words burned into his mind like a brand. His grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles turning white. A sharp exhale escaped his lips, a mix of anger and frustration. Without a second thought, he grabbed his leather jacket and stormed out of the house.

The night air was cold, biting against his skin, but he barely noticed. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions—anger at himself, at them, at the situation. The streets blurred together as he made his way to the bar, his strides purposeful and laced with fury.

The bar was alive with noise, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. A group of people sat in the corner, their voices loud and obnoxious, drawing attention like a spotlight. Cassian’s sharp eyes immediately found her—Suzy, perched on the lap of a muscular man, her legs crossed and a smirk plastered across her face.

He pushed through the crowd, his presence commanding and unrelenting. The chatter dimmed slightly as people noticed him, his reputation enough to send a ripple through the room. Cassian stopped in front of the group, his gaze locked on Suzy.

“The bet is off, Suzy,” he said, his voice low and cutting, each word deliberate and sharp.

Suzy tilted her head, her smirk widening as she leaned back, clearly amused. “Fancy way of greeting your friends, Cas,” she drawled. Her tone was mocking, dripping with fake sweetness.

She stood up, her movements slow and deliberate, and closed the small distance between them. Cassian didn’t move, his dark eyes tracking her every move like a predator watching prey.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” she murmured, her fingers grazing his chest as she leaned in, her lips aiming for his.

Cassian’s hand shot up, stopping her in her tracks as he pushed her away firmly but without hesitation. His jaw tightened, his expression cold and unyielding. “Don’t,” he said flatly, his voice a warning. “Don’t even think about it.”

Suzy’s playful expression faltered for a moment, replaced by irritation. She crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at him. “What’s your problem, Black?”

“Don’t play games with me, Suzy. The bet is off,” he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Her irritation turned to amusement, and she let out a laugh, loud and grating. “Don’t be such a pussy, Black. Come on. It’s just a game.”

Cassian’s lips pressed into a thin line, his patience wearing thin. His fists clenched at his sides, but he forced himself to stay calm, his voice steady and measured. “It’s not a game, and I’m done with it.”

Suzy stepped closer again, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Aww,” she cooed, tilting her head mockingly. “Is my bad boy in love with that perfect little bitch? Is that it?”

The air in the room seemed to shift. Cassian’s eyes darkened, his body rigid as his jaw ticked. The room grew quieter, the tension palpable. He stepped closer to her, his towering frame casting a shadow over her.

“One more time,” he said, his voice dangerously low, each word dripping with menace, “you call her a bitch, and I’ll see how many people come here to save you from me.”

Suzy’s smirk faltered, and for the first time, a flicker of fear crossed her face. The others at the table shifted uncomfortably, glancing between Cassian and Suzy, unsure of what to do.

“Alright, alright,” Suzy said, holding up her hands in mock surrender. “No need to get all worked up, Cas.”

But Cassian wasn’t done. He leaned in closer, his voice a growl. “She’s worth more than all of you combined. So, stay the hell away from her, or I’ll make sure you regret it.”

He didn’t wait for a response. Turning on his heel, he strode out of the bar, his fists still clenched and his mind racing. The cold night air hit him as he stepped outside, but it did little to cool the fire burning inside him.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and stared at the screen. His thumb hovered over Savannah’s name, a part of him tempted to call her, to hear her voice and reassure himself that she was okay. But he didn’t. Instead, he shoved the phone back into his pocket and began walking, the weight of his actions pressing heavily on his shoulders.

Whatever mess he had gotten himself into, one thing was clear—he couldn’t let Savannah get hurt because of it. And he would do whatever it took to protect her, no matter the cost.