Chapter 3 #2
He held a wine glass, head tilted, listening to someone beside him, charcoal suit paired with the tie I'd chosen, hair perfectly groomed.
His whole posture was painfully familiar—back straight, chin slightly raised, calm, commanding, subtly controlling the rhythm of conversation around him, making everyone lean his direction without realizing it.
When he sensed my gaze and turned, I clearly saw his eyes pass over me with zero reaction, like looking at a stranger. He quickly looked away and dove back into his networking.
I stepped back imperceptibly, the urge to approach evaporating, and steadied myself.
I circulated the hall, making small talk with society wives, completing the necessary obligations.
An hour later, I escaped to the terrace.
The winter night wind was harsh, stinging my face, but I greedily breathed that cold air, trying to suppress the nausea churning in my stomach.
"Mrs. King, lovely venue tonight, isn't it?" Sloane appeared beside me silently, champagne in hand.
I turned to leave, breathing the same air as her felt suffocating, but her words stopped me cold.
"Luna, I can call you that, can't I?"
"I think you should call me Mrs. King." I glanced back at her.
She swirled her champagne, eyes dropping to my dress. "Mrs. King, you weren't so gracious this afternoon when you refused my kindness."
Her shamelessness nearly made me laugh. "Please do your job as a secretary and stop touching things that belong to the lady of the King family. I'll tell Cassian exactly what you did."
She looked innocent, as if she had no idea what I meant. "I was seriously helping you choose a gown. Cassian instructed me."
"Cassian loves this dress I'm wearing. He said so." I fought to keep the fury from shaking my voice.
Sloane sighed deeply. "Yes, I know him. Cassian's like that. Even when he doesn't like something, he won't show it. Just like how he treated this arranged marriage."
She suddenly covered her mouth exaggeratedly. "Oh, sorry, Luna, I let that slip. But... you two were forced into this marriage, weren't you?"
My brain buzzed like a snapped wire, humiliation pouring over me like ice water from head to toe.
"Shut up," I said through clenched teeth, forcing words between them. "You think you can climb into his bed? You're just a convenient tool he uses!"
"Am I?" Sloane suddenly smiled. She stepped closer, finally dropping her mask.
"Cassian spends time with me, confides in me, and takes me to galas.
That's when his smile is most real." Her gaze dripped with mockery.
"And you? Besides that nearly bankrupt surname, forcing him to tolerate you out of marriage obligation, what do you have left? Who's really the tool here?"
"He thinks looking at you is a waste of life." The low voice mixed with Sloane's cloying perfume made me dizzy. I instinctively wanted to refute her, but Cassian's earlier gaze flashed through my mind.
Ice cold. Not an ounce of love.
Sloane moved closer, and I used my last bit of strength to block her, trying to push her away. "Stay away from me!"
She glanced almost imperceptibly behind me, then her lips curved with a barely visible smile. "As you wish."
Before I could react from that brain-numbing rage, Sloane's expression rapidly switched to terror. She raised her glass, not to throw it at me, but with almost self-destructive viciousness, splashed it directly in her own face.
"Ahhh—!"
Her scream tore through the terrace's quiet, accompanied by shattering glass. As Sloane fell, she viciously ripped open the side seam of her own gown.
Liquid ran down her collarbone. She collapsed near the broken glass, body shaking violently, crying as if I'd committed some unforgivable crime.
"Mrs. King... I was just trying to help you... Why would you do this to me?"
I froze in place, hands still positioned from trying to push her away. And in that moment, the terrace doors burst open, and Cassian's ice-cold face appeared in the light.
His gaze stopped on my face for one second, on the wine stains on my dress for one second, then moved to Sloane, then scanned the gathering crowd quickly.
Then he looked at me. Expression unchanged, but something in his eyes tightened.
"Cassian," I started, voice compressed, "she—"
"Enough."
His voice was low but just loud enough for the surrounding circle to hear, just ambiguous enough in its target that any observer could interpret it however they wanted.
Cassian said nothing more. He walked past me straight to Sloane on the ground, looked down at her pitiful state, and helped her up, then turned to me, the temperature in his eyes dropping to absolute zero.
"Let me explain," I said. "She just—"
"Explain what?" Cassian whipped around. "Explain how your jealousy led you to destroy a woman's reputation in public? Is this Crawford family breeding?"
His words were low and rapid, meant only for the three of us. I clearly saw Sloane flash me a provocative smile from Cassian's arms.
"She's acting! Cassian, it's not like that..." I grew more desperate, voice shaking uncontrollably. This feeling of being misunderstood by the entire world had me trembling.
Then Sloane lifted her face, tears streaming, expression wounded and bewildered. "I... I just accidentally wrinkled your dress, I really didn't mean to, Mrs. King, I—"
"There are cameras," I cut her off firmly. "Security can pull the footage. Two minutes to clear this—"
Before I could finish, Cassian silenced me with a gesture.
"This ends now. You owe Sloane an apology."
"I didn't touch her! She's acting! Cassian, believe me..." I reached for his sleeve like a drowning person grabbing for the last piece of driftwood.
"Enough, Luna." He cut me off impatiently and stepped aside, avoiding my touch.
In that moment, the guests' whispers drowned me like a tide. I could see the undisguised mockery in those society women's eyes, contempt in the men's.
I felt like I was burning, shame scorching from my feet to my skull.
"I'll take her," Cassian said without looking at me again. He supported Sloane and headed for the exit without a backward glance. "Go home yourself. Don't let me see you again, at least not tonight."
"Cassian! Stop!" I lunged forward frantically. I didn't know what I wanted to do. Instinct just screamed to stop him, to make him turn and see the desperation in my eyes.
But before I touched his arm, he jerked it away.
The force was brutal—like shaking off something filthy and parasitic.
The momentum sent me crashing hard onto the cold marble floor, my palm landing on the shattered wine glass remnants. Searing pain exploded instantly.
Cassian paused but didn't turn back. He escorted Sloane out and disappeared through the revolving doors.
The whole world hit mute in that moment. I lay on the ground, watching that sapphire ring land in a pool of my blood, flashing with icy light.
The surrounding laughter seemed to fade. After that extreme pain came a deathly silence.
I stared at the doorway in disbelief. This was the man I'd gambled my dignity on believing. This was my supposed "one and only."
My heart hurt so much it went numb. Mechanically, I stood up.
I didn't wipe the blood from my hand or acknowledge those spectating eyes.
I walked out of the ballroom step by step. Night wind dried the tear tracks on my face.
I felt something inside me die completely.