002

Cassandra’s POV

“Have you guys met before?” Nicholas asked casually, his eyes flicking between us.

I shook my head too quickly. “No. First time seeing this… stranger. Nice meeting you mister.” My voice cracked on the word, and I hated it. Nicholas didn’t notice he was already pulling out a chair.

We both sat down, though my eyes couldn’t stop darting around the room, searching for any hint of what I’d been expecting all night. A ring box hidden somewhere. Flowers. Champagne. Something. But there was nothing. No surprise. No anniversary. Just a stiff, suffocating business atmosphere.

My stomach soured. Could it be that Nicholas really forgot? Six years together, and he forgot? Then why invite me at all?

The men dove into conversation, their voices low and serious, and I was left to stew in my thoughts. My fingers twisted the strap of my purse until it cut into my skin. I should have been celebrating, not babysitting a meeting.

Maybe it wasn’t Nicholas’s fault, I told myself. He ran a start-up, chasing investors, chasing stability. This stranger, this Mr. Blackwell could be someone powerful. Someone important. But his presence made my skin crawl and burn all at once.

Fuck! I should stop thinking, but I kept my mind busy because someone's particular gaze kept finding me. Every time Nicholas’s attention shifted to his pitch, Mr. Blackwell’s gaze found me slow, deliberate, searing. He didn’t hide it, either. His eyes raked over me like I was already undressed.

I tried to ignore it, staring at the table, at the chandelier, anywhere but him. And yet I couldn’t pretend I didn’t feel it.

“This is a good proposal,” Mr. Blackwell finally said, voice deep, velvet, commanding. “But I’ll need more time.”

“That’s no problem. I can leave the documents and await your feedback.” Nicholas smiled, desperate hope flickering in his voice.

“Mm. But tell me.” Mr. Blackwell leaned back, exhaling smoke from a cigar that wasn’t even lit yet. “Is she your secretary? She doesn’t seem very invested in the meeting.”

Heat shot up my neck. My eyes darted anywhere but his face. Please, Nicholas, defend me.

“Not at all,” Nicholas said easily. “She’s here to get to know you.”

I snapped my head toward him. “What?” My voice was barely a whisper.

Mr. Blackwell chuckled darkly. “Oh? Why’s that?”

Nicholas beamed, like this was normal. “Mr. Frank told me what you like, so I prepared a little gift. I hope you don’t mind.”

Gift? My blood ran cold.

Before I could speak, Nicholas stood abruptly, tugging at his sleeves. “Excuse me a moment. Wait here for me, Cassandra.”

“Wait where are you going? Have you lost it!” I grabbed his shirt in panic. He jerked out of my hold.

“I’ll be outside. Please consider my proposal, sir.” And with that, he walked out, leaving me stranded with a man whose stare made me feel naked.

I sat frozen, my pulse hammering. Nicholas wouldn’t just leave me…not like this…right?

Mr. Blackwell’s voice cut through the silence, rich and low. “So. Is this your first time? Or should I be telling you what to do?”

I flinched. “W-what do you mean?”

“Strip,” he breathed, the single word dropping like a bomb. “Isn’t that what you’re here for?”

My world tilted. “Excuse me? I’m not..I’m not a hooker!” I scrambled for my phone, dialing Nicholas’s number with shaking fingers. His line was dead. Unreachable.

Mr. Blackwell tilted his head, amusement gleaming in his eyes. “Are you sure? Because your boyfriend isn’t outside anymore. He left you here. With me. For a reason.”

“No…” My lips trembled. “No, he wouldn’t..today was supposed to be..”

But the truth sat heavy on my chest. My Nicholas. He had used me. He had left me here like some bargaining chip, like a whore to trade for investment money. Tears burned behind my eyes, but fury burned hotter.

That motherfucker set me up!

Mr. Blackwell studied me in silence, then exhaled. “Looks like you didn’t know. You can leave.”

Leave? Just walk away, humiliated, used?

No. I wanted Nicholas to hurt. I wanted him to bleed like I was bleeding. And at that moment, I knew exactly how.

I rose slowly, my heels clicking against the floor as I crossed the space between us. He lit his cigar with an almost bored elegance, his lips curving into something dark and knowing. The smoke curled around him like sin itself.

I leaned down, my voice low, trembling but steadying with each word. “Reject his proposal. Ruin him. And in exchange… I’ll stay. With you. Tonight.”

“You want me to ruin your boyfriend?” He blurted, and I shook my head. His smirk sharpened. “Ex-boyfriend, then?”

“Ex,” I spat, though my chest ached saying it. “If he wants a show, let’s give him one.”

“Ex-boyfriend.” He repeated it like a promise, his voice dripping with approval. His hand reached out, brushing my hip. A shiver ran down my spine.

I should have stepped back. I should have run. Instead, I leaned closer, my body betraying me.

“Do you want to sleep with me, mister?” I whispered, almost daring him to laugh. To shove me away.

But he didn’t. His arm snaked around my waist, pulling me down onto his thigh in one effortless move. My breath hitched, my face inches from his.

“Is that an offer?” His hot breath grazed my lips.

“Yes,” I whispered. “Are you going to take it?”

“If I don’t take it… kill me,” he growled, before his mouth crashed onto mine.

The kiss was fire, savage and desperate. I moaned into his mouth, clutching his suit, my body burning. His tongue demanded, devoured, and I gave in, drowning in the heat of him.

By the time we pulled apart, gasping, my lips were swollen, my head spinning.

“God,” he muttered, his lips dragging down my throat. His hands were everywhere, on my back, my hips, sliding under my dress, my breath catching as fabric fell away.

“Ahh..” I moaned, straddling his lap without thinking, grinding down against him, my shame drowned in heat. My skirt had ridden up, my panties already damp, and when his palm cupped my ass, I nearly lost it.

But when his fingers brushed the clasp of my bra, reality slammed into me.

“Stop!” I gasped, pressing my forehead to his. But my voice betrayed me, trembling, breaking, more plea than command.

His lips lingered at my cleavage, his breath hot against my skin. My body shivered, betraying me all over again.

Half-naked. Panting. Spread over the lap of a stranger. On the night I was supposed to be celebrating six years of loyalty.

What came over me?