"Of course." Cassian did not hesitate. Not even for a fraction of a second. "How else will you prove to me that you love me, if not through your actions?" He watched her face cycle through shock, fury, and a helpless, stuttering disbelief that she could not seem to articulate into words. "Actions speak louder than words, my pregnant fiancee."

There it was. Cassian found a new opening, no matter how small, and he drove the word pregnant through it like a stake through the heart with the specific intention of reminding Cixi that she had lied about carrying his child, that she was trapped inside that lie, and that he was enjoying her imprisonment far more than any decent person should.

Cixi pressed her lips into a bloodless line and turned her face toward the window. The city lights streaked past in long, blurred lines of gold and white. When she focused on the window, she saw her reflection staring back at her from the dark glass, and was outmatched by a man who turned every conversation into entertainment and a cage, then handed her the key just to watch her refuse to use it.

*

The car pulled into the underground parking of the Michelin-starred restaurant. Cixi recognised the building immediately. She had seen this restaurant many times during her trips to college. To get a table there, people often had to wait four months, so she couldn’t believe Cassain had decided to try to eat there on a whim.

Would they even be able to get a table? She turned to ask Cassian if he was sure he had chosen the right restaurant. She then observed that instead of heading toward the main lobby, the driver descended a ramp she had not noticed before, two levels below street level, into a private garage lit by cold, white fluorescent strips.

Mark stepped out first and opened Cassian’s door. Then Cixi stepped out onto the smooth concrete. She followed Cassian to a brushed-steel elevator in the far corner of the garage. This elevator was separate from the others, behind a reinforced door that needed a keycard, a six-digit code, and a fingerprint scan to access.

The elevator doors opened, revealing an interior lined with dark walnut and a row of unlabeled buttons. Without looking, Cassian pressed the highest button.

Mark stepped inside and stood by the door, his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes straight ahead.

The lift moved silently, displaying the counting floors.

When the doors opened, Cixi stepped out into a corridor that looked nothing like a hotel hallway. There was a single wide corridor with dark hardwood floors, soft ambient lighting recessed into the ceiling, and one heavy door at the end.

Cassian walked to the door, pulled a key from his inner jacket pocket, and unlocked it. He pushed it open and stepped aside, gesturing for Cixi to enter.

She walked in confusion and stopped near the door to glance at the place.

The room was not a room. It was a penthouse suite large enough to contain her entire apartment four times over. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the far wall, offering a panoramic view of the city skyline that stretched from the river in the east to the dark silhouette of the mountains in the west. The furniture was dark leather and polished wood, with a long sectional sofa, a low coffee table carved from a single slab of black marble, and a dining table set for two under a crystal chandelier.

A private bar occupied the left wall, its shelves lined with bottles that Cixi suspected cost more than her annual salary combined. The air smelled of cedar, leather, and something faintly smoky that she could not identify.

Behind her, Mark took his position outside the door and closed it to give his boss and Cixi privacy.

Cixi turned to face Cassian. "I thought we were going to a restaurant."

Cassian shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of a dining chair with the unhurried ease of a man returning to a space that belonged to him. "I cannot be seen in public."

Cixi frowned. "You already showed your face to people in the club, and today you came to pick me up. Why do I get the feeling that you went to more places and that there’s CCTV almost everywhere... How are you still a missing person? How come none of the police forces has found you yet?"

"Half of the people are already dead from the club, and the rest of the others would lose considerably more than their lives if they spoke a word about my whereabouts." Cassian loosened the top button of his shirt collar and walked to the window. "This building belongs to me. So does the restaurant."

Cixi blinked hard. Her mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, finally managing to express her surprise. "This entire building is yours?"

"This entire building and Casanova and the one where you came to clean my apartment, even that one. These buildings belong to me." He did not turn around. "The parking garage, the private lift, the penthouse, the staff, the security systems. Every person inside this building who has seen my face works for me directly. Their livelihoods, their families, their futures—all of it depends on their silence."

He turned from the window and faced her. "There are people in the underworld who know I am alive. I know exactly who they are, and they know that to keep my secret well kept — because the alternative is not worth imagining for them. I go only to places where I know my secret is safe."

Cixi swallowed dryly. Why did the penthouse suddenly feel smaller than it had a minute ago?

"There is a code in the underworld," Cassian continued, deciding to let Cixi have a little information on the Mafia world. "An unwritten law that governs how certain information is exchanged, who is protected, and what happens to those who break the agreement that is supposed to be followed by everyone. So, no Cixi, certain information will not be treated carelessly."

"And who created the codes?" Cixi asked.

Cassian looked at her for a long, weighted second. Then he pulled his phone from his pocket, scrolled through his contacts, and dialled a number.