Seventeen

Cassandra stepped into La Marque restaurant, wearing a knee-length red dress that hugged her curves perfectly. Her long, dark hair was left loose, softly wavy and falling just to her shoulders, adding an elegant touch to her appearance.

Each step was accompanied by the soft sound of her heels clicking against the marble floor, creating a rhythm that seemed to affirm her presence. Under the dim light of crystal chandeliers, Cassandra looked stunning, like someone meant to be the center of attention. But the room was empty—no other guests, no bustle. She could only hear the soft rustling of satin curtains and the faint clinking of dishes from the distant kitchen.

Cassandra paused briefly at the entrance of the restaurant. Her eyes scanned every corner, looking for any signs of activity beyond herself and the staff moving in the shadows. The large room with its neatly arranged round tables felt strange in its emptiness, as if it had been prepared for one special event.

A small smile played on Cassandra’s lips as she continued walking toward one of the tables in the center of the room, near a large window offering a view of the glittering city skyline under the night sky.

Her mind worked quickly, guessing what Antonio’s true intentions might be with this meeting. As she approached the table, a neatly dressed waiter appeared soundlessly, pulling out a chair for her. Cassandra nodded politely, then sat down gracefully, crossing her legs confidently. Her slender fingers touched the edge of the crystal glass on the table, but she didn’t drink. Her eyes remained alert, taking in every detail around her.

Moments later, the door at the end of the room opened, and Antonio Franches entered with a confident stride. He wore an elegant black suit, a gray silk tie, and polished leather shoes. A thin, unfriendly smile adorned his face—a smile that seemed more of a game than hospitality.

Antonio walked closer, his sharp eyes noting every detail about Cassandra, as if ensuring she hadn’t brought anything but herself. When he reached the table, he gestured for the waiter to leave them. In seconds, the two of them were alone in the private silence of the empty restaurant.

“Cassandra,” he greeted her in a measured, low voice, like a snake’s hiss. “You’re right on time.”

Cassandra didn’t smile. “Of course,” she replied in a neutral tone, looking directly into Antonio’s eyes.

Antonio took a seat across from her, his gaze never leaving Cassandra. “I wanted to make sure we wouldn’t be interrupted tonight,” he said, glancing around the room. “So, I reserved the entire restaurant for our dinner.”

Cassandra raised an eyebrow slightly, showing neither surprise nor admiration. She’d expected a man like Antonio to pull a stunt like this. Every move he made was controlled and meticulously planned, including his subtle way of creating an intimidating atmosphere.

“You know, booking the entire restaurant for just the two of us is excessive,” she remarked with a flat, yet cutting tone.

Antonio merely shrugged, his face expressionless, as though her comment was nothing more than a passing breeze. “Maybe,” he replied casually, “but when you have money like mine, excess becomes a habit.”

Cassandra leaned back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest and looking at the man in front of her with suspicion. “And you feel the need to flaunt that wealth to me?” she asked sharply.

Antonio smirked slightly, touching the rim of his wine glass with his fingertips, turning it slowly without actually drinking. “Soon, Cassandra,” he said softly but with meaning, “you’ll experience it too. Wealth, power—all of this will become part of your life.”

Cassandra gave a slight scoff, not responding directly. Her mind spun quickly, trying to decipher Antonio’s true intentions. Every word he spoke felt slippery, like a trap in a game where only Antonio knew the rules.

The waiter returned with an appetizer—a delicate porcelain plate holding an arrangement of food far too extravagant for Cassandra to care about. She glanced at the dish with disinterest, far more intrigued by the conversation at this table than by the food presented before her.

Antonio noticed her expression and smirked. “Eat,” he said lightly, as if to show how simple life was under his command. “You won’t find dishes like this in an ordinary place.”

Cassandra picked up her fork but didn’t immediately eat. Her eyes stayed fixed on Antonio. “You still haven’t answered my question,” she said, her tone slightly challenging. “Why do you want to marry me? What do you really want, Antonio?”

Antonio lifted his wine glass, resting it against his lips but only sipping a little. His gaze never left Cassandra, as though savoring this moment of tension. Then he leaned back in his chair casually, spinning the ring on his finger once more.

“You’re an intriguing woman, Cassandra,” he said in a low voice that sounded both seductive and dangerous. “And I’m curious—will you satisfy me in bed too?”

Antonio’s words hung in the air, heavy and full of meaning.

Cassandra swallowed, her throat feeling dry even though the iced chocolate she drank earlier still lingered on her tongue. Antonio’s words echoed in her mind, carrying a hidden threat. She tried to shift her gaze to the plate of food before her—a dish that should have looked delicious but now only added weight to the atmosphere around them.

Her hand reached for the fork and knife, though her movements were slightly stiff. She cut a small piece of the appetizer and placed it in her mouth, hoping to escape the conversation, if only briefly. But the food tasted bland on her tongue, overshadowed by her mind racing to calculate her next steps.

Antonio watched intently, noting every little detail—how Cassandra’s hand trembled slightly as she held the fork, how her breathing was a bit uneven. This wasn’t just a dinner for Antonio. It was a battlefield, and he knew precisely when and where to strike.

“No need to be so tense,” Antonio said with a thin smile that barely reached his eyes. “We still have plenty of time to… get to know each other better.”

Cassandra took a sip of water, hoping to soothe the dryness in her throat. Her gaze remained on her plate, as if the sight of food was more interesting than the man before her. But in her head, her thoughts whirled, trying to find a way to keep control of the situation.

Antonio, on the other hand, seemed to relish the control he had over the moment. With a relaxed movement, he picked up the steak knife in front of him and began cutting into the wagyu beef on his plate. The soft sound of the knife meeting tender meat was like a subtle chime amid their silence. Without a word, Antonio cut a large piece of steak and placed it on Cassandra’s plate.

“You’ll need to learn to enjoy things like this,” he said softly but with deep meaning. “Enjoy your meal, Cassandra. As a single woman… before you officially marry me.”

Cassandra just stared at the steak on her plate, a sense of discomfort crawling up her spine. Antonio looked at her with a gaze full of meaning, and Cassandra knew—this dinner was merely the beginning of the dangerous game Antonio was playing.