Chapter 37
I notice a new side of Cassian after our dinner night. He sends me text messages, calls more often just to check up on me and Ray. He shows up at school and at my home spontaneously, always with little treats for Ray. Their bond grows every day, and I can't ignore the way Cassian is deliberately working his way into my life.
"I need us to start afresh, like we just met," he says, grinning as he lounges on the couch in his city office. The place is sleek, modern, and undeniably expensive, reeking of wealth and power.
I glance around, absorbing the details—floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the skyline, leather seats that probably cost a fortune, a whiskey cart stocked with rare bottles. His world is a stark contrast to mine.
"No high expectations," he adds, watching me carefully. "Let's just be two strangers meeting for the first time, curious about each other."
It makes sense, because holding onto the memories of our toxic, short-lived marriage isn't helping either of us.
Before I can respond, the door swings open, and a tall, sharp-dressed man walks in. He moves with the kind of confidence that suggests he belongs here. His crisp suit is perfectly tailored, his dark hair neatly styled. He greets Cassian casually, then looks at me.
There's something familiar about him. I narrow my eyes, trying to place where I've seen him before.
Cassian notices my hesitation and smirks. "This is Alexander, my PA. He was my groomsman at our wedding."
My eyes widen slightly as recognition clicks. "Hi, Celeste. Good to have you here," Alexander says smoothly, flashing a polite smile.
I nod, still taking him in. "Thank you."
From the way he carries himself, he's not just a PA. There's a sharpness to his gaze, a quiet authority that tells me he's more than just an assistant. He and Cassian seem close, almost like brothers.
Cassian leans forward, elbows on his knees, watching me. "You're curious, aren't you?"
I arch a brow. "About what?"
"About what I do here."
I won't deny it. "The thought did cross my mind."
He exchanges a knowing glance with Alexander before answering. "Currency engineering."
I frown slightly. "That sounds... intense. What exactly does that mean?"
Alexander steps in smoothly, like this is a conversation he's had a hundred times. "It's about forecasting financial shifts, understanding economic patterns, and making strategic moves before the rest of the world catches on."
"In simpler terms," Cassian adds, "we don't just manage wealth, we manipulate how it moves. The kingdom's economy, international trades, even investments that ensure Matica stays ahead in global markets, we influence all of it."
I blink, taken aback. "So when you said you were out on business trips, it wasn't just for royal affairs?"
Cassian nods. "No. I built this from the ground up so I wouldn't have to rely solely on palace influence. My father ruled from the throne, but I make sure the kingdom thrives financially. Every move I make here affects Matica's economy."
I glance around the office again, this time seeing it for what it really is, not just an extension of his power, but something he's created, something separate from the crown.
"You don't let just anyone in here, do you?" I ask, meeting his gaze.
A slow smile tugs at his lips. "No. I don't."
His words settle in, heavier than they should. He's showing me a side of him that I never got to see before. A side I might have judged too soon.
I inhale slowly, choosing my next words carefully. "I get it," I say finally. "But I'm still watching you, Cassian. I'm not making the same mistake twice."
His grin deepens, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. "Fair enough."
Cassian leans back into his chair, rolling his whiskey glass between his fingers, watching me with an unreadable expression. The weight of his words lingers between us, settling into the quiet hum of the room.
"Most of the time I disappear from the palace, it's not about frivolities and women," he says, his voice steady, but there's something else beneath it, something raw. "I come here to focus on what's important."
His gaze flickers to the large window overlooking the city, as if lost in thought. Then, with a smirk, he adds, "I have another villa at the outskirts of the city, besides the one you burst into."
My jaw tightens at the memory. That night had been a
disaster. I'd let my emotions cloud my judgment, let jealousy and frustration push me into a situation that made me look desperate.
He studies me, amusement flickering in his eyes before his expression softens. "I love to live a life where I'm not just a prince expected to take the throne," he continues. "That title comes with chains, Celeste. Expectations. Responsibilities I didn't ask for."
I don't say anything, just watching him as he runs a hand through his hair. There's something different about him in this moment, stripped of arrogance, of the untouchable aura he usually carries.
"I built this company from the ground up," he says, his voice quieter now. "Not because I needed more money, but because I needed something that was mine. Something that wasn't dictated by royal protocols or my father's expectations."
His vulnerability is unexpected, and for a moment, I don't know what to say. The Cassian I knew, the Cassian I married was reckless, entitled, and impossible to trust. But this man in front of me? He's layered. Complex. And maybe, just maybe, not as heartless as I once believed.
"You don't have to believe me," he adds, watching my face closely. "But if you really want to understand me, Celeste, this is where you start."
A part of me wants to push back, to remind him of all the ways he's hurt me, but another part, one I've tried to ignore, wants to listen. I want to see where this leads.
I want so badly to ignore the past, to pretend none of it happened, to push forward without looking back. But something keeps burning inside me, a question that won't let me rest.
I take a breath, steadying myself before I speak. "I need to ask you this, Cassian, before we can move on. What did you think of me at the altar and after? What was it about me that you despised so much?"
He sits still, his expression unreadable, but his grip on the whiskey glass tightens. Then, without hesitation, he speaks.
"I thought it was despicable to enter an agreement with the Queen to marry a stranger. A marriage of convenience," he says, his voice low but sharp. "Should I have brought myself to care for you when you didn't even care who I was?"
His gaze locks onto mine, and I feel the weight of his words sink deep.
"Everything I did - disappearing the night after the wedding, bringing the women to the palace - it was all a protest. A statement," he continues, voice edged with something I can't quite name. "But I don't think you ever got it."
His words cut deeper than I expected. I swallow hard, looking away as the realization settles over me like a cold wave. He saw me as a gold digger. Someone unworthy of his time, his respect, his attention.
I exhale shakily before asking, "What changed?"
He leans forward slightly, his eyes still locked on mine. "You showed me a different side of you when you got the job. When you rejected the allowance I gave you."
I frown, confused. "That allowance was from the queen."
"No." His lips press together briefly before he continues. "The Queen would never have given you that much. I drafted it myself. I was ready to pay you from my personal account."
My chest tightens. He gave me that money himself?
"But you didn't take it," he adds, watching me closely. "Then you registered for law school. You bought yourself that Jeep. That's when I started seeing you differently. That's when I realized you weren't who I thought you were."
His words hang between us, thick with meaning.
"The council's demand, the grounding… those were me testing you," he admits. "But the scandal? That was purely on Liliana."
Silence. Heavy, charged, suffocating.
Then Cassian stands and walks toward me, closing the space between us. He perches at the edge of his massive glass table, facing me fully.
He reaches for my hand, and I let him take it, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine. "Maybe I went to the extreme," he says softly. "But I never meant to hurt you. I swear it, Celeste."
His voice is raw, stripped of all the arrogance, all the walls he usually hides behind. And for the first time, I believe him.
I swallow the lump in my throat and nod slightly. "I'm sorry too," I whisper.
And just like that, something shifts between us. Something fragile, but real.