"So, did you try all five tips with Martin?" Cixi asked, already trying to imagine whether any of them had worked even a little.

Marion kept folding clothes as though the question were ordinary. "No. By the time I read those books, it was already too late to try anything on him. We have been married for 20 years already." Then, without even a hesitation, she added, "The only thing that ever worked was being good at Plow Job." And gave Cixi a wink.

Cixi went utterly still.

The plate of pastries in her hand suddenly felt like a mountain, making it all the more difficult to hold on and prevent it from slipping away while she maintained her gaze at Marion, certain that she understood her correctly.

Marion had not misspoke, but had said it on purpose, alphabet ’P’ instead of ’B’ and with such blunt ease that Cixi did not know whether to cough, blush, or laugh.

For a moment, Cixi simply stood there in the narrow laundry room, surrounded by the scent of detergent and folded clothes, while Marion continued her task as though she had not just dropped the most shameless sentence of the day.

Marion then said something else, and this time Cixi caught it at once.

"Who knows how many women have already tried all sorts of tricks in the world on Cassian Crown to make him marry them? I’m sure I’m not the only woman who has read those books."

Cixi’s mood sank immediately.

That thought had not crossed her mind before, yet now it seemed obvious. Women must have tried every possible way to make Cassian theirs.

Women are prettier than she.

More experienced than she.

Women who knew how to use their smiles, their voices, and their bodies properly.

Then Marion lifted another blue blouse from the basket and said, far more thoughtfully, "If you really want a chance, do something he will never forget."

Once more, Marion’s words got stuck in Cixi’s brain, repeating unconsciously at first those words silently in her head.

’Do something he will never forget.’

Then, consciously, she repeated.

And again, before asking, "And what would that be?"

Marion shook her head. "I don’t know, Cixi. I don’t know him well enough to tell you exactly what would work. But it has to be something he would never expect from you. Something that stays in his mind after you leave. Something that surprises him and makes him think of you again."

Cixi nodded slowly, studying Marion’s hands as she folded the clothes with neat movements.

That made more sense than all the silly tricks.

Her thoughts immediately turned to the pastries.

To the man in the black suit.

To the message Cassian had sent through him. ’Madam forgot to eat dessert after lunch.’

The words still unsettled her.

Last time, Cassian himself had come to Marion’s place and was taken against her will.

Cassian had not remembered anything about her. At least, that was what he told her.

But then, how had he remembered the garbage bin?

How had he known she would refuse the pastries unless his man said they would be thrown away?

Her eyebrows slowly drew together.

Did he remember their first meeting?

Or the second one, when he told her to throw away all the food from the refrigerator into the garbage, and she refused, saying she would take it with her?

He was quite cunning; Cixi believed.

Was he lying about his memory loss?

A flicker of anger ran through her.

Yet almost at once, the image of him in that torture room rose in her mind. His call with Mark and his confusion regarding her and the coin she held. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

That looked genuine.

Her anger eased at once.

No! Mark could have informed him about their encounter.

Unless he was such a terrifyingly good actor that he had fooled everyone in the room.

That thought bothered her more than she liked.

It was clear that Cassian Crown was not the type to be easily deceived. If she could somehow coax him into visiting her more often, bringing treats on his own like his friend did with pastries, would that be considered progress? Would it bring her one step closer to her goal?

Then another thought came.

Before anything could truly happen, his status had to change from missing to found, officially.

She was sure he would not walk openly in public while the police were still looking for him, and his killer might be freely roaming around.

Did he take such a risk just for her? Or was it merely a reckless move to prove to his fake fiancée that he could be entrusted? What was he thinking?

Cixi stopped herself there, knowing better than to build too much on assumptions, especially with a man like Cassian.

Then another question arose.

Why were his men still keeping an eye on her when he already knew she was not his fiancée?

The answer struck a second later.

The coin!

Of course!

The coin guaranteed his protection, and he had made that clear to her himself. This meant that those watchful eyes weren’t merely a sign of possessiveness. He was officially accountable for her safety.

Cixi cast her gaze down at the plate in her hands.

He was complicated, she reminded herself once again.

Hopelessly complicated.

After a while, Cixi left Marion’s apartment and began the walk back to her own place. The evening air had turned cooler, and the streets looked busier than ever.

When she reached her floor, she stood outside her door for a second longer for no reason, then hesitated before typing in the PIN and stepping inside.

She hung her purse on the wall hook and walked straight to the bed, taking her phone with her. Then she lay down without changing, one arm tucked beneath her head, her gaze fixed on the ceiling.

Her thoughts would not stop.

On one side was the deepfake video.

That nightmare had begun haunting her again, dragging her old helplessness back to the surface.

On the other side was Cassian.

The man who frightened her, protected her, confused her, and somehow kept tightening his hold on her thoughts without even being present.

The whole evening passed like that.

She watched a few romantic clips on her phone, then read about sexual fantasies men desire with half-curiosity and half-embarrassment, then shut them and opened them again, read and then kept them aside.

She replayed Marion’s words in her head.

’Do something he will never forget.’

That line would not leave her.

She picked up her phone and opened his contact.

For a moment, she stared at the name.

Then her thumb moved.

She deleted Cassian.

And changed it to: Triple C

Then, before she could overthink it, she pressed call.