"Has anyone ever told you that you are crazy?" Cixi questioned him without a shred of fear, which only surfaced when a person had already survived the worst and decided they had nothing left to lose.
Cassian did not answer immediately. He simply watched her audacity in speaking to a Don. And when he noticed her uncertainty as she began to doubt whether she had crossed a line with him. Though she had meant to provoke him, she was no longer sure of herself. Only then did he speak.
"Sweetheart, call me crazy when I put you in a dungeon with no sunlight," Cassian delivered so casually, so devoid of theatrics, that it sounded like a promise rather than a threat, and Cixi was pulled back to the real world, where Cassian held power and she was just a face among many unknown ones.
Even though she was immortal, she was not powerful — at least not yet. Her freedom meant everything to her. That was the reason why she had watched many crime documentaries to keep herself safe, where no one was there to protect her, and she had to rely on herself.
Even after being careful, she always ended up in trouble, and now the curse chained her to immortal life and then to some sort of debt her parents had forced her into with Cassian.
"You have some fetish about feeding me. I started to believe in that theory." Cixi changed the topic and widened her lips into a forced smile, the kind that stretched too far to fool anyone paying attention.
Cassian remained still. He did not interrupt her. His eyes rested on the smile that stretched too wide on her face, on the slight tremor at the corner of her mouth that betrayed the effort behind it.
"Why am I still being held by you, or is it meant to be that I stay in your embrace like a cuddly couple while we order drinks and food?" She held the smile because she did not want to be in the dungeon.
She had an immortal life ahead of her, and she could not spend eternity locked beneath the earth with no sunlight. Wouldn't it be similar to living in hell? No, she was never going there. She would rather swallow her pride a hundred times over than swallow darkness for the rest of forever.
Without answering a single word, he walked to the table in the far corner and set her down in a seat.
A few onlookers nearby turned their heads with soft smiles, contemplating whether the poor girl was injured and her adorable, handsome boyfriend had carried her in his arms across the street to make her feel special.
If only they knew the truth behind the chivalry.
The moment Cixi's feet touched the floor, the coldness of the tiles hit her through her socks. She looked down at her feet and realised she had no shoes on, nothing but the thin socks covering her soles. And with the socks, she remembered a cringeworthy incident.
Cassian had taken her clothes away. All of them… including her underwear.
Heat rose to her cheeks in a rush so fierce it spread to the tips of her ears, and she could not bring herself to lift her head out of embarrassment. Although it was not her action, but Cassian's!
How could this billionaire be so shameless? She bit her lower lip harder until it tinged with pain. Had he seen every piece of underwear she owned and packed them into a bag as though they were items on a grocery list?
Cixi kept her head down, fidgeting with her fingers beneath the table, while Cassian sat exactly opposite her and studied the sudden change in her attitude with thinned eyes.
His gaze moved slowly — from the crown of her lowered head, to the scarlet creeping along her ears, to the way her fingers twisted together beneath the table.
It did not take him long to understand what she was thinking.
Her clothes, the ones he kept in his apartment.
"Whose clothes are you wearing?" The question was mild. The amusement in his eyes was not.
Cixi bent her head down even further, her chin nearly touching her chest. Meanwhile, the onlookers at the cafe admired the couple who looked like newlyweds still lost in their honeymoon period, completely unaware that the girl was burning with mortification and the man was savouring every second of it.
"Wh-where are my clothes?" Cixi muttered her question in a voice so subdued that she couldn't detect her own sound.
The mirth in Cassian's eyes brightened at Cixi's sudden shyness.
"Could you say that louder?"
She cleared her throat and tried again, this time a fraction louder, enough that she could hear her own words, though she could not say the same for the rest of the cafe. "M-my clothes… Where are they?"
Cassian tilted his head. "Look at me, Cixi." He waited patiently for her to comply.
The silence stretched until she finally slowly raised her eyes. Only then did he continue. "If you want to say something, look straight into my eyes and say it with confidence."
Cassian's words worked like a viper slowly coiling around her neck, gently commanding her to listen while threatening to do something she wouldn't like.
Just then, the waiter arrived and placed two menu cards in front of them with a polite smile before retreating.
Cassian did not look at them. His attention remained on Cixi, who took a deep breath before trying again.
This time, she clutched her fists beneath the table until her knuckles ached, aiming to hold his gaze as he wanted, even though her voice lacked confidence. "Why would you take my clothes away? Do you not feel ashamed of your actions? Stealing clothes from a poor person?"
Cassian's lips curved faintly, shamelessly. "Your parents would be very disappointed to hear their daughter calling herself poor." Cixi's eyes flickered, and he noticed. "Your clothes are not worth anything, Cixi, given how much your parents owe me."
That sentence snapped Cixi's composure, and she glared at him with a fury so concentrated it could have scorched the menu cards. "Then you should not have taken them!" she shot back.
Cassian did not react to her anger. Instead, he studied it. The way her jaw tightened and the way her shoulders stiffened.
"For you, my clothes may seem worthless. But to me, they hold the same value as any luxury brand." Cixi didn't see any necessity for him to point out that her clothes were inexpensive to her.
Cassian said nothing to correct her misunderstanding. He let her think whatever she wanted. "I did you a favour." Cassian leaned back in his chair, one arm draped across the armrest, carrying the quiet authority of a man who decided to forgive her for talking back to him in a manner no one had ever spoken to him like that.
She was definitely testing his patience, he told himself before informing Cixi, "I saved the time you have spent packing. You should be showing gratification, Cixi. And do not worry, I already moved your clothes to my building. But, where they end up depends entirely on your behaviour — in the wardrobe, or in the dungeon, or in the fire!"
Cixi's eyes widened with shock, and the fright spread across her face before she could mask it.
"You—" The retort lodged in her throat before it could escape.
Thinking of the dungeon and her clothes being on fire, she kept her mouth shut and averted her seething gaze away from Cassian, while her jaw tightened with an exasperation she could no longer contain.
"Do I look like a punching bag or what? Why do people act as though they are entitled to threaten and hit me whenever they want? I am tired of being treated this way," she muttered under her breath, like air leaking from a wound, which didn't escape Cassian's ears.
He narrowed his eyes for a second before he smoothed them out.
"I see you have a lot of fans!" he said lightly. "You must be quite a famous personality!" Cassian's teasing landed differently this time. Instead of her usual response, Cixi's face turned grave, reminding her of the deepfake video like oil rising to the top of still water.
He noticed that, too.
A wave of distress overpowered her anger, yet she swallowed hard and forced the dreadful image back down before it could completely overwhelm her.
Her wavering gaze settled on the wall clock, which hung on the light mustard-yellow wall behind the counter, and Cassian followed her gaze without moving his head.
The clock reminded her of Silvia's message. She had asked Cixi to meet at the main college gate at five o'clock, and the clock at that moment showed half-past three.
Cassian returned his attention to Cixi only to find she was studying him now.
Her mind started to calculate backwards from the moment Cassian had carried her from Marion's home until here, for nearly half an hour through the streets, over his shoulder like luggage.
She searched for any signs of his exasperation, but found none. His breathing remained steady; beads of perspiration were absent, and there was no flushed neck or face. His hair also looked perfect, and not a single strand was out of place.
How?
How did he manage to look perfect, like a model ready for a photoshoot? His physical fitness must be above that of athletes, Cixi concluded.