CHAPTER 1 ~ 𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖, 𝙰 𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝙱𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚜~

It's been three weeks now since that incident happened, and Mason has dropped the fake pretense of trying to win over Cassandra with his accusation. The duo started a competition to ruin her mood each day, and she had to end it even before they argued over who the winner was.

Arial lied every day, as Cassandra called it, though she didn't want to listen to her pettish talk, but they had more facts than a lie. Who was she to blame? She trusted them both, but she got mocked for her loyalty.

She ended it all before she was to be called a fool by them during one of the days.

Now, it's been almost a month, and she hasn't met the mysterious guy, as she calls him. The umbrella sat lonely in the corner as her eyes darted to it on rainy days. Soon, his image and his vision left her memory as she began to live life again.

Each tick of the clock reminded her she wouldn't be sleeping any time soon. She couldn't remember the last time she'd heard crickets, the clock, or the muffled silence of the night.

As her hope dwindled, she gave up on sleep.

At 5 am, her body fell into bed and she drifted into a comfortable fantasy world.

Her alarm clock blasted through the sleep haze, and she was awake. The reality hit her like a bucket of cold water, and she blinked at the numbers staring back at her. She was late. A panic formed on her face as she looked at the clock, which just kept ticking away, taunting her for being late to the day.

Her head had been spinning with thoughts all night like a tornado. She knew it was from tossing and turning, trying to sleep. Her heart was racing as she got out of bed with no time to spare. She ran into the bathroom and splashed water on her face to wake herself up. Every minute counted, and her boss was counting on her for this meeting, so she needed to get her act together fast. She ran back to her room, her mind racing as she looked through her closet for the perfect outfit to make her look confident and professional.

She reached for a black pencil skirt. The classic piece would instantly make her look elegant and in control. She scanned her blouse collection; she needed something to brighten up her complexion and mood. She hesitated for a second before choosing a white blouse with lace details that softened the look and added a touch of femininity.

But time was short, and the clock still ticked ominously. She slipped on the blouse, tucking it smartly into her skirt. She stopped and looked at her reflection, realizing her hair was a tangled mess.

Her fingers moved quickly, coiling her hair into a tight bun and fastening it with two bobble pins. A subtle touch of makeup, just enough to soften the impact of a restless night.

Then, she slipped into her favorite heels: a pair made just for her. With a look at the clock, she rushed to collect her essentials — her computer, a leather notebook, and a pen — and shove them all in her bag.

With a racing heart, she burst through the door driven by a sudden surge of resolve and pure adrenaline. Today was not just another work day, but an important one. She inhaled deeply, steeling her resolve.

Despite her late arrival, she was ready to make an impact and to tackle any challenges the day might bring.

She arrived at the office and sat at her desk, a part of the daily routine as a personal assistant. She would spend the day managing her schedule, responding to emails, and preparing for the meetings that filled her calendar, and the list goes on.

Today, the minutes passed quicker than she had expected as the clock ticks grew louder. Time was moving quickly, and she could sense excitement in the air.

Hayden Foreman, her boss, had long awaited this day, and his excitement was palpable. Gathering everything she needed, she walked toward his office, her knock alerted him, and he gave his consent immediately as it came. She handed him the files that contained all that they needed at the meeting, and he received them while still looking at his screen.

He breezed through them in moments before meeting Cassandra’s gaze. “ I like it, he admitted.

“Time to leave,” He added, handing it back to her, then stood and headed for the door. He wore a worsted wool black tuxedo that bathed him in an orange-toned light. His strides were long and fast as Cassandra followed behind.

"A sight to be seen." She complimented inwardly. His full charm was only evident to those unacquainted with his meltdowns and the carefully constructed 'Mr. Too-Perfect's persona.

With a look that combined all parts of determination and focus, he made his way toward the elevator that took them to the parking lot.

Hayden was one of those special kids they talked about: quiet, with a challenging temperament. Driven by a deep need to be understood, he buried his resentment beneath an aloof exterior. A survivor tactic he mastered with relentless dedication. Unable to bear the hurt times and times again, he shut himself off from any emotions. Many labeled him a playboy, but those who looked deeper could tell his true nature, and Cassandra was not an exception.

The driver shut the door, and soon they were on their way in the black-tinted Maybach.

Hayden and Cassandra walked alongside each other as they reached the elevator, riding the thing up to the second floor. The elevator suddenly dinged, revealing a greeting view.