Chapter Nine
Playing the Part
Cassie smiled as she poured Damien’s morning coffee.
Light roast, splash of oat milk, two teaspoons of raw sugar.
Just how he liked it. She slid it across the marble island toward him, her silk robe barely grazing her calves, the scent of lavender still clinging to her skin.
Damien, bleary-eyed and distracted, murmured a thank-you as he scrolled through the news on his phone.
Cassie leaned against the counter, watching him.
“You’re quiet this morning,” she said.
Damien glanced up, startled, as if remembering she was there. “Sorry. Just… a lot on my mind.”
She gave him a soft smile. “Work?”
He nodded. “The Italy expansion’s delayed again. The legal team is still untangling contracts.”
Cassie tilted her head. “Anything I can help with?”
His brows lifted in surprise. “You’d want to?”
“I run a hotel empire, Damien,” she said with a quiet laugh. “I think I can handle a corporate snarl or two.”
He chuckled, and for a moment, he looked lighter but guilt still lingered at the edge of his gaze, flickering behind his smile. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
And it wouldn’t.
Not yet.
Cassie kissed his cheek and handed him his briefcase. “Have a good day.”
He hesitated at the door. “You’ve been… really amazing lately.”
“I love you,” she said simply.
Damien blinked, then whispered, “I love you too.”
She watched him leave and then she dialed Delia.
“Everything’s still in motion,” she said. “He has no idea.”
Damien sat in the Sterling boardroom later that morning, only half listening to the quarterly projections presented by the CFO. The glass walls offered a perfect view of Manhattan’s skyline, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching him from the other side of the glass.
His phone buzzed.
Kelly: Missing me already?
His jaw tensed. Beneath the table, he quickly typed:
Damien: Now’s not the time.
Kelly: You always say that. And yet, here I am, still in your head.
He didn’t reply. Across the table, Leo noticed. Their eyes met briefly. Leo’s expression was unreadable. Damien looked away.
Kelly lay on a daybed at her Upper East Side apartment, sipping from a martini glass and scrolling through Damien’s social media feed.
Photos of Cassie smiling. Of them together. Of the life that Kelly still felt belonged to her.
She sent another message.
Kelly: Tell her yet? Or still pretending she’s the only one you’ve ever touched?
Damien didn’t respond. Instead, he tossed his phone onto the table and stood.
“Apologies,” he said to the room. “I need to step out.”
Leo watched him go. Then opened his own phone. Scrolled until he found Cassie’s name.
And stared.
But didn’t type.
That evening, Damien arrived home to find Cassie curled on the couch, a book in her lap, jazz playing low in the background. The fire crackled. The lights were dimmed. And everything smelled faintly of vanilla and something warmer, comfort, maybe.
She looked up with a smile. “Dinner’s almost ready. I made mushroom risotto.”
He paused in the doorway, uncertain.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
He nodded slowly. “I’m just… surprised. You’ve been incredible lately, Cass.”
She stood and walked to him. “I want us to be happy again.”
He kissed her forehead, his guilt bubbling and she held him like she didn’t know. Like she hadn’t watched every lie unravel in slow motion but beneath the calm surface, Cassie was a storm biding its time.