Chapter 5- A party

Cassie woke up to an unfamiliar ceiling. Her head pounded as she rubbed her eyes, trying to remember how she got there. Nothing came. Just fragments.

She pushed herself upright and scanned the room. It was a penthouse—sleek, sterile, expensive. The view of the city glittered through tall windows, but the silence felt heavy, calculated.

She stumbled forward, feeling a little dizzy. On the nightstand, a glass of water and a pill.

"For your head," a deep voice said.

Cassie turned to see a tall, imposing man leaning against the doorframe. He was watching her with an unreasonable expression.

She blinked, the man in the doorway shifting into focus. For a moment, she forgot the question burning on her lips.

He was impeccably dressed, his suit tailored within an inch of perfection, the kind of precision that made his broad shoulders look sharper, his frame impossibly commanding. A dark silk tie knotted at his throat, not a crease or thread out of place. Even the cufflinks on his wrists glinted with deliberate power.

And then there was his scent. It wasn’t just cologne—it was an assault. Something dark, expensive, and intoxicating, laced with leather and spice. It clung to the air, threaded into her breath, sank under her skin until it felt as though it had seeped into her bones. Her pulse quickened, traitorous.

He didn’t need to raise his voice. He didn’t even need to move. Standing there, he was larger than the penthouse itself, the gravity in the room shifting around him.

Cassie tightened her grip on the blanket around her shoulders, forcing herself to meet his unreadable eyes. "How did I get here?" she demanded.

The mystery man pushed off from the doorframe and walked towards her. His eyes were sharp, studying her like she was under glass. "You passed out on the side of the road," he said, his expression unreadable. "I brought you here."

"You can't afford a coffee, can't buy food." He rolled his eyes with distaste.

Cassie's mind was a jumble of confusion. She tried to remember what had happened, but her memories were hazy. And then it hit her - she hadn't finished her medication. She had been so caught up in the drama with Trent that she had forgotten all about her concussion.

The mystery man handed her the glass of water and the pill. "You should take this," he said. "You're clearly not feeling well."

Cassie took the pill and swallowed it.

"So you're a stalker," she said, finding his eyes.

Something flickered in his gaze—dangerous, unreadable. His jaw ticked once. “That’s your way of thanking me?” His voice was low, edged with disdain, not amusement.

Cassie flushed, suddenly aware of the tension thrumming in the air. “I’m sorry… thank you,” she muttered.

He gave the faintest nod, eyes cool and appraising. “Good. You learn fast.”

Before she could speak again, her alarm shrieked. Cassie silenced it quickly, spotting the missed calls and texts. She muttered something about leaving.

He completely ignored her.

"Is that your alarm?" he asked instead.

Cassie nodded, "Yes, it's the fourth one. I didn't hear the other three. That means I was really knocked out!

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, feeling a bit more alert.

She got out of bed, "I need to leave, my friend must have reported me missing by now."

He chuckled. "That's a joke right?"

Cassie's expression didn't change.

"You're not joking," he said in a high pitch. "Okay, let's get you home. I'll have my assistant bring you some fresh clothes, I can't have the police knocking at my door again."

Cassie's eyebrows arched. 'Again?' she asked herself. She quickly dismissed the thought of him being some kind of serial k*ller and focused on the task at hand, not loosing any more of her dignity.

"No," Cassie declined politely, "You've done so much already. Thank you." She said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes."

"Okay..." he said, "Umm, I'm on my way to work so..." the man gestured towards the exit of the room.

Cassie felt offended. A small gasp escaped her lips and her hands flew across her chest and crossed dramatically.

The mystery man didn't give her so much as a glance. He threw one leg in front of the other quickly. He was out of the room. Cassie followed directly behind him.

His face twisted into something that looked like a smile as he heard her little footsteps behind him.

...

They pulled up to Cora's condo. The building was located in the most exclusive part of Bel-Air, and the sleek, modern design screamed luxury.

He raised an eyebrow as he took in the sight of the condo. "Rich people," he said with a sly smile, his tone dripping with amusement.

Cassie chuckled and nodded at him. "Touché," she said with a laugh.

As they got out of the car and walked towards the building, Cassie explained, "My friend Cora lives here. I've known her since college, but..." she stretched, "I can't afford a place like this!"

He glanced at her with interest, but said nothing. Cassie wondered what he was thinking, but before she could ask, they arrived at Cora's door.

He turned to her with a mischievous glint in his eye. "I hope you can afford your coffee, Uber, and Airbnb money," he said with a chuckle, "because you're racking up a tab."

His laughter was a charming, low sound that seemed to vibrate through her entire body. For a moment, all her worries melted away.

"The next time I see you, I hope you're doing something worthy of admiration" he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He had something that looked kind of like a smile on his face.

Cassie scoffed, "Impossible."

"Call me when you're serious about being somebody." His eyes glinted with amusement that seemed to send shivers down Cassie's spine. "Remember, you have my card." With that, he drove away. .

...

Cora sat in the living room, sipping a cup of coffee as stared at Cassie. "I didn't know you had it in you, I'm so proud of you girl."

"What? What on earth are you..." Cassie gasped, "It's not what you think, after paying the twenty million, I didn't have any money left so he paid for my coffee so I signed the divorce papers and he took me home and--"

"Cora out down her coffee mug, wait what? Can we start from twenty million!"

Cassie sighed, "It's a long story baby."

"I've got time, you're my best friend. You come before everything."

"I'll tell you when I'm back, I'm heading to the shop to pick up my car," Cassie said, standing up.

Cora's eyes narrowed. "The one you got in the accident with?" she asked, her voice dripping with disdain. "Ugh, that man is a total jerk."

Cassie sighed, knowing that Cora had never been a fan of Trent's. "He asked me to bring the company car and cards," Cassie explained.

But Cora waved her hand dismissively. "Don't bother. I can have my driver go pick up your car. You don't have to face Trent."

Cassie hesitated, tempted by the offer. But then she shook her head. "No, I need to do this," she said, her voice firm.

Cora raised an eyebrow. "Why? You know Trent is just going to be his usual condescending self."

Cassie took a deep breath, admitting the truth to herself. "I just want to see him," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe the man I loved is still in there somewhere."

Cora looked Cassie up and down before raising an eyebrow. "You're not going to dress like that are you?" she asked, "Don't dress like your problems, Cassie."

"I'm too depressed to spit on him, let alone dress up," she said, her voice flat. "He doesn't deserve the effort."

Cora hissed. "Girl, you look like you're off to deliver food."

Cassie sighed, "I don't want to hear it, can you drive me to the shop?"

"Okay, okay. Lil miss grumpy. Get in the car, I need to get to work so, sure I'll drive you."

Cassie smiled.

Cora dropped her off and went her way.

Cassie picked up her car from the shop and drove to Trent's house because he was never at the office. That was her job. That and everything else.

Cassie’s fingers clenched the steering wheel as she pulled into the long driveway. Her heart drummed in her chest, heavy and uneven. She had rehearsed this in her mind: walk in, return the car, leave. Clean, simple.

But the sound that greeted her wasn’t silence. It was music—bright, careless music spilling from the mansion’s open doors. We're they celebrating her downfall?

Cassie’s stomach twisted. No. It couldn’t be.

She parked and stepped out, her legs trembling. The lawn stretched before her like a glittering stage, crowded with colleagues, investors, and strangers in tailored suits. Champagne glasses sparkled in their hands. Silver trays floated through the crowd.

This was a party, a celebration of the new acquisition. This was supposed to her moment.

All eyes were supposed to be on her, congratulating her on her success. But there, at the center, was Trent.

Her Trent. Smiling. Toasting. Accepting congratulations with the polished ease of a king addressing his subjects. The smug curve of his lips sliced her heart open.

Cassie’s vision blurred. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them back. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Not here. Not in front of everyone.

He always did this, but this one hurt more because he was celebrating stealing everything from her. Trent had done it again - he had taken the credit for her hard work.

Cassie turned, desperate to escape. She tried to back out of the driveway, to escape the scene before anyone noticed her but headlights pinned her in place. A sleek car slid to a stop behind hers, trapping her. She froze as the doors opened.

Trent’s parents stepped out.

She got out of the car and walked over to them, trying to remain calm.

"Excuse me, I need to get through," Cassie said, trying to reason with them.

Taylor’s eyes narrowed the moment they landed on Cassie. Her face twisted into something sharp, almost cruel. “You’re not going anywhere, thief!” she spat, her voice high and venomous enough to pierce the music.

Cassie’s breath caught. “What?” Her eyes widened in shock. "What are you talking about?" she asked, trying to defend herself.

Trent's father, Harris joined in. "Don't pretend Cassidy, Trent told us all about the embezzlement. We know you've been stealing from the company."

Cassie felt nauseated. The words struck like stones hurled at her chest. Cassie staggered back a step, her throat closing. The ground beneath her feet seemed to tilt

“That’s not true!” she cried, her voice cracking. Her hands shook as she tried to steady them, as if her body itself was betraying her.

Her protests were swallowed by the crowd. Faces turned. Whispers slithered between champagne glasses. Fingers pointed, eyes narrowed.

Cassie felt the walls of the mansion close in, the music now a cruel laugh that echoed her humiliation. She had walked into a trap, and everyone was watching her drown.