Cassian
A glass bottle of vintage wine hit the marble table with a dull thud, followed by the clinking of two crystal glasses.
"So, you have been in the city for over a week now," Julian said, pouring the dark liquid into the glasses. "And today is the day you’re finally remembering you have a friend."
I rolled my eyes as I finished sending a quick text message, setting my phone face down beside me. Reaching out, I picked up the glass by its stem and took a slow sip.
"I could say the same to you," I replied, leaning back against the leather armchair. "You knew I was back in town and didn’t bother to call once. Yet the moment I decide to show up, you start dramatic guilt-tripping."
Julian dramatically flung his arm into the air, clutching his chest like I had just mortally wounded him. "Don’t forget I’m a high-powered defense lawyer, Cassian! A lawyer doesn’t have time to chase down elusive artists."
"Oh, please," I scoffed, a smirk tugging at my lips. "But you have plenty of time for your wife in the other room."
Julian squinted his eyes at me with a laugh. "You do know you haven’t changed at all, right? Still the same ruthless, insufferable bastard."
I lifted my glass in a mock toast, my eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "Do you blame me?"
"Fair point," Julian chuckled, taking a long drink of his own wine before his posture relaxed into something more genuine. "Anyways, how has it been? How does it feel coming back home? You still haven’t told me why you decided to abandon your lucrative career just to take up a professorship at the university."
I remained silent for a moment, letting the rich flavor of the wine linger on my tongue.
Julian had been my closest friend for longer than I cared to count. In a world full of fake smiles and opportunistic leeches, he was one of the very few people who could tolerate my cynicism and call me out on my bullshit without blinking. He was sharp, outrageously loud, and possessed a theatrical humor that usually drove me insane, but beneath all the dramatics, he was fiercely loyal. If anyone deserved a straight answer, it was him even if the full truth was far more complicated than I was willing to admit.
"I needed a change of pace," I said, leaning back as I let the rich wine sit on my tongue.
"The corporate world became tedious. Endless board meetings, endless politics."
Julian snorted, swirling his drink. "A change of pace? Cassian, you were literally running a top-tier firm overseas. You had power, status, a high-ranking corporate position that half the country would kill for. And you just tossed it aside to teach university students?"
He leaned forward, setting his glass on the table. "And what about Victoria? You left her and everything behind, too?"
"Was it ever real with Victoria?" I replied, my tone flat, devoid of any regret. "You know as well as I do that our relationship was built on a contract from day one. The arrangement served its purpose, the contract ended, and I walked away. Simple as that."
Julian shook his head, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "You really are cold, aren’t you? So what’s the plan now? You intend to just meet another woman, fall in love, and eventually get married to her?"
The word woman barely left his mouth before my mind traitorously flashed straight to Elvie.
Her wide, wide eyes staring up at me. The soft flush creeping up her neck. The agonizing heat of her body sitting an inch away on the piano bench.
Fuck.
My grip tightened slightly around the stem of my glass. My mind shouldn’t have gone there. Not to her. She was off-limits, completely out of bounds, yet the mere thought of another woman instantly summoned her face into my head.
It was the entire reason I had left the house in the first place. I knew damn well I couldn’t cope with being cooped up under the same roof with Elvie all day.
The raw, pulling attraction was already driving me insane, and spending a full Saturday watching her move through my hallways would have shattered what little self-control I had left.
"I’m not looking for a wife, Julian," I said, "I came back to focus on my art and my work. That’s all."
Julian raised an eyebrow at my sudden change in tone, but before he could dig any deeper, I took another slow drink of my wine, forcing the thought of Elvie back down into the dark corners of my mind.
"All right, if you say so," Julian said, holding his hands up in surrender. "But does your brother know you’re back?"
Before I could answer, my phone buzzed beside me. I picked it up and tapped the screen open. It was a reply from the private investigator I had hired to discretely look into Elvie’s case
The message was brief: No major altercations or public incidents reported at the residence. She simply left one night.
I locked the screen and finally addressed Julian’s question. "Whether I’m back home or not isn’t his concern. After all, I’m not here for him."
Julian sighed, swirling the remaining wine in his glass. "When are you two ever going to reconcile?"
"The time he learns how to treat people like human beings," I replied dryly.
I stood up, slipping my phone back into my trouser pocket. "I’ve got to go."
Julian stared at me in disbelief. "What? You haven’t even been here for twenty minutes and you’re already leaving? Where are you going exactly? Today is Saturday."
"Exactly. Today is Saturday," I said, smoothing down my jacket. "I need to rest. I’m going home."
Julian stood up to follow me, but before he could protest further, a soft voice called out. "Oh, Cassian, you’re already leaving?"
Mary, his wife walked out of the kitchen, resting a gentle hand over the visible baby bump beneath her sweater. "I was just preparing something for you."
"No, Mary, don’t bother," I said softly, waving her off. "Next time."
I clapped a hand onto Julian’s shoulder, giving it a firm grip. "I’ll talk to you some other time."
Without waiting for another dramatic objection from Julian, I turned and headed out the front door toward my car. The quiet click of the sedan’s door closing behind me cut off the outside world, leaving me in total silence.
I rested my hands on the steering wheel, my jaw clenching as the investigator’s text message echoed in my head. She just left one night.
She clearly doesn’t remember who I was to her past, but the urge to pull the truth out of her was growing stronger by the hour. Maybe I should push myself and confront her directly why she had run away from home.
**
I took my time after leaving Julian’s. Instead of heading straight back, I drove to a gourmet market across town, deliberately picking up a few unnecessary groceries just to kill time. I didn’t want to get back home too early. I had told Elvie she could have the house to herself and invite her friend over, and the last thing I wanted was to cut her afternoon short or make her feel like I was hovering.
When I pulled into the driveway, it was nearly an hour before dinner. I figured by now her she’d be done with her painting, and would likely be in the kitchen starting on the pasta I had requested.
Stepping through the front door, the heavy oak lock engaged with a sharp click.
I set the grocery bag down on the entryway console, lifting my brows at the sound coming from the direction of the kitchen. Upbeat music accompanied by a soft, melodic voice.
I walked and stopped just at the edge of the kitchen doorway.
Elvie stood in front of the stove. She wore an oversized sweater that slipped off one shoulder and a pair of worn denim shorts, her hair tied up in a loose, messy bun. She was holding a wooden spoon like a microphone, singing along to the song playing from her phone while swaying her hips in a free, uninhibited dance.
I leaned my shoulder against the doorframe, crossing my arms over my chest. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even bring myself to clear my throat to let her know I was there.
I had only ever seen Elvie guarded, trembling, or blushing under my heavy gaze. But seeing her like this completely unguarded, alive, and lost in pure, unbothered joy, had something strike in my chest.
A slow, dangerous heat unfurled deep in my gut as my eyes tracked the soft curve of her waist every time she moved.
Then, she spun around with a dramatic flourish of her wooden spoon and stopped dead in her tracks.
Her wide, dark eyes rounded in complete shock, the deep crimson flush returning to her face with terrifying speed.
"C-Cassian..." she gasped out, nearly dropping the spoon.
I didn’t take my eyes off her for a single second. A slow, wicked curve touched the edge of my lips as I took in her completely flustered state. "You seemed to be having quite the performance, Elvie."
"I... I thought you were going to be out longer," she stammered, her face turning a deeper shade of red. She reached over with a frantic tap of her thumb to pause the music on her phone, plunging the kitchen into a sudden, heavy silence. "I was just making the pasta like you asked, and I lost track of..."
"Don’t stop on my account," I said softly, stepping into the kitchen with unhurried strides.
I reached out, taking the handle of the wooden spoon she had abandoned, turning the simmering sauce on the stove.
"You have a lovely voice, Elvie," I murmured, my tone dropping into a low rasp. "It’s a shame you only use it when you think no one is listening."
She bit down hard on her lower lip, her chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow breaths. "You’re teasing me."
"I never tease," I replied smoothly, setting the spoon back down. I leaned forward slightly, resting both forearms on the marble counter, closing the distance between us just enough to catch the sweet scent of her skin. "Did you finish your painting today?"
"I... yes. I spent a few hours in the study before coming down here. It’s almost done."
"Good," I said, my dark eyes trailing down to the soft, exposed curve of her collarbone where the sweater had fallen away. A sharp, possessive urge flared in my chest—a desire to trace that bare skin with my fingers and feel her shiver under my touch.
I forced myself to straighten up before the thought could turn into action. "I brought some groceries," I mentioned casually. "Finish up here, and I’ll bring the bags in."
As much as I knew I should keep my distance, the sight of her completely unraveling because of me was becoming a habit I had no intention of breaking.