Cixi took a walk back to Marion's apartment from the police station. On the way, her attention snagged on a notice pinned to the window of a small cafe.
HIRING.
She paused to read the details carefully, and then she tilted her chin upward to read the name of the place above the door, 'Warm Land', a cafe.
She pushed the glass door open and was greeted by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries.
The interior was cosy and golden in tone, with low-hanging pendant lights and mismatched cushions that made every chair look like an invitation to sit and never leave.
She was about to take another step toward the counter when a figure at the counter froze her entirely, and the warmth of the cafe turned icy inside her veins.
Cassian's man! The same broad-shouldered silhouette who had pointed a gun at her.
The same man who had been standing behind Cassian — the one who had kidnapped her, and then they had fallen into the river before she was taken by another group of kidnappers.
But now, seeing him alive, it didn't add up. No one survives that river. So, how does he look perfectly fine standing on two legs, ordering coffee? Should he not have been hospitalised if not dead?
Her eyes widened in many contemplation. Is Cassian alive too? Is he here as well? Cixi vigilantly looked around, but he wasn't there.
What did that tell her?
That he might be somewhere outside waiting for his man to bring coffee, or that he might be dead?
Nevertheless, her speculations crashed into one another like dominoes inside her skull, and not a single one of them brought good news of Cassian being alive, or that he would capture her again.
Yes, she was burning with curiosity to know what had happened that night at the river and how they had survived. But she loved her freedom more than she loved finding those answers.
Mark turned from the counter carrying two coffees, and Cixi moved to the far side of the cafe in one fluid, surreptitious motion, sliding into a chair at a tiny corner table and lowering her head.
Her heart was slamming so hard she could feel her pulse in her jaw, and she prayed no one noticed her. Why did it feel like she was always walking on the tip of an iceberg?
She and Cassian had crossed each other's path before. The day she stopped him from throwing away his coffee, since then, their paths collided, and every coincidence kept turning into something more inescapable for her. Was it her fault then?
When she saw Cassian in the mirror that morning, she thought she was hallucinating. That Cassian was in heaven, enjoying his time with a woman, giving him pleasure and that seeing him was part of her curse. But who knew he was alive, and she might have seen him in his intimate moment... Probably.
What was happening to her and her life? She must find the answer from the Grim Reaper, who had cursed her before she went crazy.
Once Cixi was certain Mark had left the cafe, she abandoned the table as if it were on fire and ran out the door without looking back. She did not slow down until the cafe was two streets away. With one sharp turn, she took a deep breath and swore to herself that she would never set foot inside Warm Land or any of its branches for as long as she drew breath.
*
After reaching Marion's apartment, the first thing Cixi did was look around to see if Martin was still at home, but found the apartment empty. He had already left for work.
The small relief that his absence provided was embarrassing in its size, but she let it wash over her without apology.
Cixi made herself a sandwich in the kitchen, cutting the bread with methodical motions of someone who was trying very hard to pretend that the day had been normal. She had barely placed the plate on the counter when the doorbell rang.
She glanced at her wristwatch. Three o'clock.
She placed the bread on the kitchen counter and walked to the door, expecting the package Marion had texted about, informing her that a delivery person would deliver it.
She opened the door without checking the peephole.
Instead of a cardboard box, Cassian Crown was standing on the doorstep, tall as a verdict, dressed in his formal attire without a winter jacket that framed his shoulders like the edges of a blade.
His devilishly handsome face held an expression that screamed of a calmness so absolute it made the surrounding air obey.
"Hello, Cixi."
Her body responded before her brain could process the danger. She slammed the door shut with both hands and all the panic in her body, but Cassian had already placed his boot between the door and the frame, and the heavy wood bounced off his polished sole.
Cixi did not wait to see what came next. She turned on her heel and ran toward Melisha's room to lock herself inside.
Her feet slapped against the floor. Even though the room was not too far, it felt like the distance between Frankfurt and Hamburg, and Cassian was too fast.
He caught her in the corridor. One arm wrapped around her waist from behind and lifted her off the ground with imperious ease.
Cixi's feet left the floor, and her stomach swooped as though the world had tilted sideways.
"Let me go! Let me GO!" she screamed, kicking her legs into the empty air, but it was like fighting the sea. Every thrust was absorbed and answered with nothing.
Cassian shifted her weight and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of rice, her hair dangling below, her fists pounding his back with every scrap of strength left in her arms.
He walked out of the apartment, toward the lift, and pressed the button for the underground parking with the composure of a man who carried women over his shoulder on a regular Tuesday.
"What do you want from me?" Cixi yelled, trying to push herself up by planting her palms against his lower back, but his arm held her in place like a lock that had never known a key.
"I already gave you the information last time." His voice was level and unbothered, which irritated Cixi even more.
"How are you alive?!" The question tumbled out before she could swallow it, fuelled by the bewilderment.
A slight contraction of his brow appeared that resembled annoyance more than offence. "I should be the one asking you that." And like Cassian, Cixi offered no answer.
Now they were even.
"What's up with you and kidnapping me? Do you have some kind of fetish for kidnapping people?" She wiggled, but his grip merely tightened. "How did you even find me? Leave me alone!"
"Stay still, little lamb," he warned her, his voice dropping low, stripped of humour, "or else you won't like what comes next."
"I hate you!" Cixi screamed into the fabric of his shoulder, and the words echoed inside the small lift.
"Sure." His reply was sardonic, almost lazy. "I would not be expecting anything less."
The lift arrived in jest at the parking level, and the moment the doors parted, Mark came into view, standing outside, straight-backed, waiting for his boss. However, instead of walking out of the lift, Cassian remained inside, staring at some point beyond Mark's head, thinking something that only he was invited to know.
"I am going to take a walk, Mark," Cassian stated unexpectedly.
Before Mark could decipher what "a walk" meant when accompanied by a woman slung over one's shoulder, Cassian had already pressed the ground-floor button, the doors slid shut, and the lift climbed back up.
The doors opened again. This time, Cassian walked through the small lobby, Cixi still suspended over his shoulder, her hair swaying like an inverted curtain.
When they emerged from the building and the cold air hit her dangling arms, the full horror of his intention solidified in her chest.
"Wait — what are you doing?" Panic sharpened every syllable.
"Taking a walk." He replied as though describing the weather and stepped down the stairs onto the pedestrian sidewalk.
"So why am I still hanging on your shoulder?!" Cixi craned her neck and saw people on the street turning their heads, some stopping mid-stride, their eyes wide with fascination and confusion.
"I wanted to try a new fun way to make my day excited. Hence the walk."
"It's freezing out here. I didn't even wear my winter jacket," she blurted, throwing out any excuse that popped into her head to avoid slipping into an even more embarrassing situation. "Let's go to the apartment first and let me wear the winter jacket..." When Cassian did not bother to respond. She tried even harder. "People are watching us, you Dumbass! PUT ME DOWN! Right now!" She wiggled with desperate fury, her face flushed crimson, and the pedestrians stared at them with expressions that ranged from alarm to amusement.
Some frowned, wondering whether the man was harassing her; despite their qualms, they studied him. His height, his expensive clothing, his handsome face that looked like it had been sculpted by someone who understood the unfairness of beauty, deciding to stroll down the street with a woman over his shoulder in broad daylight, could not possibly be committing a crime... Right?
"Lovers' spat, people." Cassian flashed a smile so genuine, so disarmingly warm, that it could have melted the frost off every window on the block. "She is running away from me for a small mistake of mine. I forgot our anniversary, and now she wants to break up with me."
A woman walking a small terrier actually murmured, "How adorable," under her breath as she passed, and a young couple laughed into each other's shoulders.
"You crazy Bastard!" Cixi cursed through gritted teeth.