6. It was him

Three days later…

Throughout the night and up until this morning, I found that I couldn't sleep. 

I didn't know if it was the knowledge that I'm officially Isabelle Quinn or the fact that I'd be meeting Cassian Knight, the mad Lycan king, today that kept me awake, but sleep was far away from me. 

Estelle came to my room last night, and she had asked if I really wanted to do everything I had said. 

My “yes” had come almost naturally. I was sure I wanted this, but I guess I didn't prepare myself for the bone-crushing reality of everything. 

The past three days had been a crash course in learning everything about Isabelle—the basics. 

Knowledge that would help me go through today's private lunch. 

Well, I had already come so far; it was now or never. 

I walked towards the clothes Rita had picked out for breakfast and got ready to go downstairs. 

The meeting with Cassian was at noon, which gave me an opportunity to ask Estelle and Joel more about him to complement everything I had read about him so far. 

Also, I could cross-check some little details about Isabelle's and Cassian's childhoods before I leave. 

~~~

At the breakfast table… 

“Isabelle?” 

“Huh?” I turned to Estelle, who was looking at me with a gentle gaze. 

“Sorry, ma'am, did you say something?” 

“You seem to be lost in thought; is something the matter?” She asked. 

“Umm… Nothing really,” I said, slowly chewing on the apple slice in my mouth. 

“You can ask us anything… Speak freely,” Estelle urged. 

“What kind of person is Cassian Knight?” I asked, going straight for the kill. Estelle and Joel looked at each other and then back at me. 

“I know you've heard the rumours… The truth is that Cassian was very warm and lively in his childhood. But he never came close to us after he lost his grandfather and father in the war. And from everything he has done since then…” Estelle paused. 

“He's ruthless and petty, I must say,” Alpha Joel concluded, and I turned to look at him. 

“Petty?” I repeated, looking at Joel. 

‘Could “ruthless and petty” be put together in the same category?’ 

“You could say he's very prejudiced about every werewolf and even his own kind… and he likes to bear a grudge. Cassian doesn't forgive. Bottom line, he hates being deceived,” Joel said, and my stomach dropped. 

“Would you like to know something else?” Joel asked. 

“No,” I said. I'll probably have indigestion at this rate. 

“Hm, as long as you remember the birthdates and everything else we discussed about Isabelle's childhood. You should be fine,” Joel said. 

Estelle took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, and for a moment, I felt I could breathe. Everything felt lighter. 

~~~

11:50 am 

The driver dropped me off in front of the glass-walled restaurant that looked more like a museum for the pack elites than a place to eat. 

The Blood Moon City was really developed.

I smoothed the skirt Estelle had picked for me and reminded myself that I was no longer Yvette Swan. I was Isabelle Quinn. A name I had to wear like armour, not skin. 

The hostess greeted me with a polite smile and a bow. 

“Private Room 3, Miss Quinn. His Majesty should be here soon.”

‘Here soon.’ The words made my throat tighten.

I walked down the corridor lined with velvet drapes and chandeliers that glittered like drops of ice. 

Every step echoed a little too loudly against the marble floor, each sound reminding me how easy it would be for this new life to crumble.

That was when I heard it. 

Laughter. 

That sharp, familiar, poisonous laughter.

Vanessa.

She had turned the corner with Lucas beside her. Her hand was looped through his arm, her glossy red lips curved into her signature gentle smile that still haunted my nightmares… And they were coming my way! 

‘What the hell were they doing in Blood Moon City?’

My breath caught. And I moved faster than even my brain could process. 

I spun around before they could see me and slipped into the nearest door on instinct, my heart thundering like it wanted to escape my chest.

The door clicked shut behind me, and I turned around, heaving a sigh of relief when I realised it was empty. 

I was inside a dimly lit private dining suite, elegant and neat. 

‘Good.’

I pressed my back to the wall and forced myself to breathe. 

Vanessa’s voice floated past the door.

“You didn't see? I swear, for a second I thought—” 

“Impossible,” Lucas replied, his tone flat. “She’s dead.” 

Dead. 

The word crawled on my skin. 

That means Vanessa would still recognise me, right? 

My fingers clenched as I waited until their footsteps faded before I dared to move. 

Unfortunately, the relief lasted barely a second. 

Before I could slip out, another sound reached me. 

Footsteps. 

Two people were approaching, their steps steady and purposeful. They were coming closer… to me. 

Panic surged again. 

I glanced around for an exit, but there was none except the door I came through. 

‘Shit!’

I ducked behind the heavy velvet curtain near the corner table, the fabric smelling faintly of wine and expensive cologne.

The door opened right at that moment, and a man’s voice, deep and controlled, filled the room. 

“Seal the deal with the Koreans before the week ends. If they pull out, we lose control of the docks.”

“Yes, I'll get to it as soon as we're done here,” another man replied. 

“Has Vincent been dealt with? Make sure not to leave any traces… And what's with Grandmother making me attend lunch on her behalf?” the first man continued. 

“Sure. Everything has been taken care of. Vincent's matter won't be traced to you,” the second voice said. “And about today's lunch. It's about the marriage alliance.” 

“What do you mean?” The man's voice turned colder. 

I instinctively held my breath. 

“The Iron Lady arranged a private lunch with your future wife in your name. She should be here by now.” 

Silence. 

My eyes widened as I realised what was happening, and I turned into a statue. 

The silence stretched forever, and then a low sound, almost a laugh, filled the atmosphere.

“Bloody Quinns. Are they not afraid of death? Handing over their daughter to me on a silver platter. I don’t need a wife from those traitors,” the first voice said. “What I need is leverage. And if it's the Quinns who would offer that leverage, I don't want it.” His tone carried power like gravity, cold and absolute. 

“My King, I understand your anger, but the Quinns…” The second man stopped speaking, and I felt the first man step further into the room, his shoes soft against the carpet. 

A sudden quiet fell, and I dared a small breath of air. 

Even without seeing him, I felt the air change—sharper, heavier, and more dangerous. 

That was when I realised who he was. Cassian Knight. 

My stomach twisted. 

The Lycan king. The man I would have to marry. Something in his voice made my chest tighten. He was talking about me. 

About Isabelle. 

He moved closer to the table, and then he spoke again. 

“We’re not alone.”

My blood froze.

The click of a gun being cocked was the loudest sound in the world. 

Before I could move, the curtain was yanked aside. 

A strong hand caught my wrist and shoved me against the wall. 

The cold muzzle of a gun pressed against my temple. 

“Who are you?” His voice was low and calm, terrifyingly calm. 

“Answer, and maybe you’ll live long enough to explain why you were spying on me.” 

I lifted my eyes.

And the world stopped. 

It was him! 

Dark hair.

Those sharp blue eyes.

The same face that had watched me from behind a black mask months ago while music thundered through a crowded club. 

The stranger who had let me go only after I gave him my name… a fake name.

The stranger who haunted my dreams.

‘He was Cassian Knight?!

Of all the men in the world… it had to be him?!’