Cassie’s POV
I woke up to bright light streaming across my face.
"Kate, close the curtains, it’s too bright." I mumbled, rolling over.. except the bed felt wrong, far too soft compared to my own.
No response came back at all. I cracked one eye open, then closed it again almost immediately, but even in that split second, something about the room already felt deeply unfamiliar.
I opened my eyes properly this time. A large dark painting hung at the center of the wall, standing out sharply against the muted grey. Beneath it sat a long, low cabinet with a few books and carefully arranged decor on top. A tall lamp stood in the corner, casting warm light across the room.
The rest of the walls were mostly bare, giving the whole space that clean, expensive feel.. minimal without feeling empty.
I shot upright immediately, heart already racing. Something is definitely, seriously wrong here. I don’t own a painting anything like that, and my walls have certainly never been grey.
Where am I?
I turned and saw him — tall, broad-shouldered, shirtless, standing in front of the window with his back to me.
"Cassie. You’re finally up." Edward said, turning around and walking toward me. "I was starting to worry you wouldn’t wake."
"What am I doing here?" I managed. "I called you to take me home."
I tried to focus on the fact that I wasn’t home, but his bare chest wasn’t making that particularly easy.
"I tried to take you home, but your friend wouldn’t answer the door, and it was freezing outside. So, here we are instead."
"Oh." I paused, glancing down. I was still in last night’s dress.
"Don’t overthink it." He said quickly. "Nothing happened. I slept in the other room."
"Okay... can you please put a shirt on?"
"Right, sorry." He grabbed one from his dresser. "Come down for tea when you’re ready."
I stood there a moment after he left the room, catching my own reflection in the mirror behind me. A complete disaster, honestly — wig barely clinging to my head at this point, makeup smudged everywhere across my face.
And he’s been staring at me looking like this the whole time. I pulled the wig off and went to splash water on my face in the bathroom. It helped marginally.
Downstairs, I settled onto a stool at the kitchen counter while he brought over two steaming cups of tea for us both.
"You look a lot better now."
"I wasn’t that bad." I muttered, fully aware I had been.
"Sure." He grinned. "So — the wig. You were out with your boss, and apparently someone who looks just like him."
"It’s a long, ridiculous story, but basically — I’ve been pretending to be my friend. Her dad set her up on a blind date, I went in her place, and now I’m stuck in this whole mess."
"That’s genuinely insane, Cassie. You need to put a stop to this before it spirals."
"I know, I know. I’m actually trying my best to end it, honestly." I didn’t sound especially convinced of that, even to my own ears.
"Does your boss suspect anything?"
"From how he’s been acting, I think he definitely suspects something. Just hasn’t confirmed it yet."
"He sounds sharp. Be careful."
I watched him flip pancakes at the stove, sleeves rolled up past his elbows, looking frustratingly good doing something as mundane as cooking breakfast. Thankfully, I had the day off.
"Why don’t you just stay here today? I can get you anything you need."
Before I could think it through, I said yes. What’s the worst that could happen?
"I could really use a break from everything that happened yesterday. This feels like a good way to start."
My phone rang. Kate.
I picked up, gave her a quick explanation, promised the full story once I got home, and hung up, turning my attention back to Edward.
"I’ve got a surprise planned for you. Once you’re freshened up, we’ll head out together."
"I love surprises. Give me a hint?"
"You’ll find out when we get there."
I ran through every possibility I could think of in my head, but came up completely empty, still genuinely puzzled about why he’d even want to surprise me with anything in the first place.
—
Hours later, freshened up, I changed into a black gown he’d already laid out for me.
Between the outfit he’d picked out and the way he’d styled himself too, it was more than obvious this whole evening was shaping up to be an actual date. We arrived at a restaurant dripping in luxury — expensive decor, completely empty except for us and a handful of waiters.
We sat down, and wine was poured.
"So. The surprise?" I asked.
"Honestly, ever since we reconnected, I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I’d really like you to be my girlfriend."
I stared at him, caught completely, totally off guard by the question. For a second, my mind drifted somewhere else entirely — to Damien, to whatever strange, unresolved thing still existed between the two of us.
He’d nearly kissed me in that elevator once already, along with plenty of other charged, loaded moments between us since then. But he’d never said anything concrete. Edward, meanwhile, was right here — attractive, tall, and genuinely kind, unlike Damien in nearly every way.
"Yes. I’d love to be your girlfriend." I said it without much hesitation.
"Phew. Honestly, I was nervous you’d say no."
"Why would you even think that in the first place?"
"Probably because of your boss, honestly. There’s clearly something going on between you two, and I really think you need to sit down and actually talk it out with him properly."
Is it really that obvious? I did feel some kind of tension between us, something that felt like it should be more than it currently was.
"I’ll bring it up with him. Though knowing him, he’ll probably deny it exists entirely, tell me it’s all in my head." I smiled at the thought.
"You should tell him anyway. At least then he knows where things stand."
The rest of the evening passed easily enough, filled entirely with laughter and genuine, easy conversation, right up until it was finally time to head home together. On our way out, I spotted Damien’s car parked outside the restaurant, though I couldn’t see anyone through the tinted windows.
Probably not even him. Plenty of people have that car. The ride home was smooth, easy flirting filling the space the whole way.
He pulled up slowly outside my estate, and we just sat there for a while afterward, talking quietly in the dark.
"I really wish you could’ve stayed over."
"I’ve got work tomorrow morning, unfortunately, but I’ll make it up to you properly this weekend." I added, "Thank you so much for today, really."
"It was nothing. I’m just glad you said yes." He leaned in slowly and kissed me, soft and unhurried.
"I should head in. See you tomorrow." I stepped out and walked toward the house. Kate wasn’t home yet. Just as I reached my room, I heard a car pull in — her, finally back. I waited by the door for her to come inside.
"Cassie!" She practically shouted the second she saw me.
"Hey, Kate — is everything okay?"
"Is everything okay?" She repeated, voice sharp with something close to fury.
"Why would you tell Dylan I use sleeping pills every single night?"
Damn it. I should’ve known better than to trust him with that.
"I’m sorry, Kate, I was just genuinely worried about you." I continued. "I was scared something would happen to you the same way it almost did with Damien, and I’d never forgive myself."
"You’re being incredibly self-centered right now, Cassie. I’ve told you a hundred times already that I’m taking it responsibly — not the way you nearly killed your own boss with an overdose, out of pure revenge."
"That’s not fair, Kate."
"You want to talk about unfair? Dylan told everyone at the program that I’m ’abusing drugs’ just to sleep through my own ’messed up mind.’" Her voice cracked. "Now everyone there thinks I’ve been lying this whole time. That’s what’s actually unfair."
"I’m sorry, Kate. I genuinely just wanted to help because I care about you more than almost anything, but I can see now that I overstepped a line I shouldn’t have."
I felt genuinely sick to my stomach, knowing full well I was the actual reason she was hurting like this right now.
"I’m really sorry," I said again, but she’d already turned and walked off toward her room.
I hated this, genuinely hated the sudden distance sitting between us now. I knocked on her door a few times, softly at first and then a bit harder, but she still wouldn’t open it. Eventually I gave up entirely, took a long shower, pulled on something comfortable, and got myself ready for bed, replaying the whole conversation over and over in my head.