Chapter 2

• The pain in my lower back kept getting worse. I had to brace a hand on the counter just to stay upright.
• Cassian had Hannah in his arms, his brow knotted tight, fury in his eyes hot enough to burn a hole through me.
• “Apologize to her.” His voice was low, the kind of command you don’t argue with.
• I laughed, and the stab in my back got even sharper.
• “I didn’t touch her. Why the hell would I apologize?”
• Hannah cried harder and burrowed deeper into Cassian’s chest.
• “Cassian, don’t push Vivienne. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have come…”
• That made his face go even darker.
• He stepped forward, reaching to grab my arm.
• “I’ll say this once more. Apologize.”
• I slipped out of his reach and slapped the divorce papers onto the entry table.
• “Cassian, we’re not even divorced yet and you’re already bringing a woman into my home to make a scene.”
• “If anybody’s apologizing, it’s her—to me. And she can get the hell out of my house.”
• Hannah lifted her tear-streaked face to him.
• “Cassian, I should go. I don’t want to mess up your marriage because of me…”
• She started to move, but Cassian yanked her back.
• “No one’s leaving.” He pinned me with a stare. “The one who needs to go is her.”
• I blinked, then let out a short laugh.
• “This place is my premarital asset. What gives you the right to kick me out?”
• “Cassian, did some woman squeeze your last brain cell dry?”
• That hit a nerve. His face flushed crimson.
• “Don’t think your family’s little pile of cash lets you lord it over me!”
• “Without me, your Blackstone Group wouldn’t be doing this well in this city!”
• I pulled out my phone, opened the banking app, and brought up the transfer record from three years ago—the money I’d injected into Dylan Group. I held the screen up to his face.
• “One hundred seventy million. Principal plus interest. Pay me back right now, and I’ll walk out this second.”
• Cassian went red, then white, then red again. For a long beat, he couldn’t get a word out.
• Hannah tugged his sleeve, whispering, “Cassian, maybe I should just go…”
• “Don’t you dare.” He ground his teeth and pulled her in tighter. “I’d like to see her try to lay a finger on you today.”
• I was done wasting breath. I pulled up the number for security and hit call.
• “Hi, this is Vivienne Astor. I’ve got two unauthorized individuals in here. Please come up to the second floor and escort them out.”
• I hung up, leaned against the wall, and stared at them, cold as ice.
• Cassian was shaking with rage. He pointed at me and finally forced out a line.
• “Fine. Real fine, Vivienne. You’ll regret this.”
• He grabbed Hannah and stormed for the door. The second he pulled it open, he nearly ran into the guards coming up.
• The two guards halted on the threshold, taking in the scene, looking awkward.
• “Mr. Mercer, we—”
• “We’re leaving.” Cassian’s face was like stone. He shouldered past them with Hannah in tow.
• Their footsteps faded down the stairs, and the house finally went quiet.
• I held my back and shuffled to the sofa, easing down.
• The pain spiked. I lifted my shirt and took a look—one big, ugly bruise blooming across my waist.
• I pulled out my phone to call my private doctor, but the screen lit up first.
• Rafael.
• I drew a breath, answered, and tried to make my voice sound normal.
• “Hey?”
• “Vivienne, why aren’t you here yet? I’ve been waiting at the café for half an hour.”
• His voice had that clear, youthful ring to it, with a little hurt underneath.
• My chest softened. Most of the anger I’d been carrying just blew away.
• “Sorry, something came up at home. I’m heading over now.”
• “It’s fine, it’s fine. I can wait as long as you want.” He brightened right up. “I’ll order your favorite cheesecake.”
• I hung up, changed into a long-sleeved sweatshirt to hide the bruise, grabbed my keys, and headed out.
• The café was tucked in an old-town alley, lit warm and dim.
• Rafael sat in the back, black hoodie on, hood up, only half of a sharp-cut face showing. When he saw me, he popped up and pulled out a chair.
• “Vivienne, what took you so long? The coffee’s almost cold.”
• He slid the cheesecake in front of me and nudged the coffee to where I could reach it easily.
• I reached for it. He suddenly frowned and caught my arm.
• “What’s up with your back? You’re standing weird.”
• I froze for a second. I hadn’t expected him to notice that much.
• “It’s nothing. I bumped into something earlier.”
• He didn’t say a word. He lifted the hem of my sweatshirt.
• The second he saw the bruise, his eyes went ice-cold.
• “Who did this?”
• His voice dropped low—nothing like his usual laid-back act—carrying a mean edge that could scare someone.
• I tugged my shirt back down and played it off.
• “Told you. I just ran into something.”
• He stared at me for a long moment, then finally looked away. But his hand on the soda can clenched so hard his knuckles went white.
• We sat there a long time that night, eating. He kept talking about school—how his roommate gamed all day and hit parties.
• I listened, throwing in a word here and there, and the knot in my chest slowly unwound.
• When we were done, he drove me home.
• We pulled up in front of the house. He suddenly turned, pulled a little box from his pocket, and handed it to me.
• “For you.”
• I opened it. A small silver necklace. The pendant was a tiny soccer ball.
• “I saved up for it. It’s nothing fancy.” He scratched his head, the tips of his ears flushing red. “Just… wear it if you want.”
• I stared at the pendant, and something in me shifted.
• “You like soccer?”
• “Yeah, I kick around when I’ve got time.” He grinned, all white teeth. “I’ll invite you to a game sometime.”
• I put the necklace on. The pendant fell right over my heart, cool against my skin.
• He watched me, eyes lit up like crazy.
• “Vivienne, when are you divorcing him?”
• I froze and didn’t answer.
• He leaned closer, his breath warm on my face, smelling like cumin from barbecue.
• “I’ll wait. As long as it takes.”
• “Once you’re divorced, I’m gonna go after you—out in the open.”
• I looked into his eyes—so bright, so clean, like he was holding a whole night sky.
• I was just about to speak when my phone buzzed.
• A text from Cassian.
• Just one line: “You want a divorce? Keep dreaming.”
• I locked the screen and looked back at Rafael.
• He was still looking at me, heat in his eyes like he might melt me.