’So-so looking girl?!’ Cixi couldn’t believe her ears. This narcissistic bastard was too busy praising himself and looking down on her!

She gritted her teeth. "I am not so-so. I am beautiful according to my friends! And I see myself in the mirror! I look fine!"

"Oh, look, someone is narcissistic!" Cassian commented, sighing.

"That’s my dialogue! It’s you who is narcissistic!"

She precisely remembered exactly how effortlessly he had convinced a terrified crowd that Mark’s gun was a fake prop. He indeed possessed a terrifying, magnetic charisma. People would blindly believe a psychopath in a tailored suit over a flushed, desperate woman any day of the week.

"It’s alright. I know the truth can be hard to swallow! The more you stay in my company, the more you will get used to hearing the truth about yourself!"

Cixi stared at him. Did he simply not hear anything she said unless it pleased him?

"Lousy Kisser," he continued, "it’s time for you to leave now. Unless, of course, you would like to come with me while I take a tour of the dungeon where I keep my prisoners."

Cixi froze.

Dungeon?

For a second, both her lips and her thoughts stopped working. Then the meaning fully settled.

She shook her head at once. "No. I’ll be going now."

There was no chance she trusted him enough to follow him anywhere underground. For all she knew, if the mood struck him, he might casually order his men to lock her in a cell for his amusement. He had already told her once that she was his prisoner. No, she was not taking any chances.

Cixi’s gaze drifted to his mouth. "I have marked you. Your lips are mine until that mark disappears," Cixi declared, not asking but telling him.

One dark brow rose. "Are we playing Alpha and Omega now?"

"Something like that," she gave back without hesitation.

"Then surely," he murmured, "I ought to be the one leaving the mark on you."

"Oh, I already have your coin," she replied quickly before he could turn the game further in his favour.

Yet Cassian’s eyes had already begun travelling over her with shameless leisure. The look in them was not hurried. It moved from her face to the line of her throat, where it stopped with such intent that her pulse stumbled. "I don’t deal in coins alone," he said softly. "I prefer marks that are visible." The reply was nonchalant enough to feel like a hand dragged lightly down her spine.

Cixi bit the inside of her lip and forced her breathing to remain even. How did he make her feel muddled so quickly? Why did every word from him seem to find the exact place where her composure frayed?

Lack of experience, she told herself bitterly. She has a lack of experience with men.

That was all.

Without saying another word, she turned and walked towards Mark, fixing him with a look that clearly meant ’Take me home before your master says anything else.’

Mark’s eyes moved to her face, then to Cassian. He gave a respectful inclination of his head towards his boss before stepping aside for her.

What Cixi did not see was the smile that touched Cassian’s mouth the moment she turned away. He knew perfectly well what had been running through her head. It had all been written over her face in lovely, readable confusion.

"How easy to read," he murmured under his breath.

*

By the time Mark returned, he found Cassian in the dungeon.

The place stretched beneath the earth like the buried skeleton of a city. Each cell held a single prisoner. The underground structure was vast, descending ten floors deep, each level built to hold hundreds. For others, the darkness below would have been oppressive, suffocating even. For Cassian, it was merely another form of quiet.

He walked through it with the ease of a man strolling through a private garden.

From behind the bars came the occasional rasp of chains, the faint scrape of movement, and voices so broken by exhaustion that even their pleas sounded hollow. Some begged. Some cursed. Some had gone so far past fear that they merely stared into nothing.

Cassian ignored them all.

His face remained serenely calm, almost detached, as though he were inspecting a business property rather than a place where men prayed for death.

When he heard Mark’s footsteps approaching behind him, he did not turn. He simply waited.

"Miss Cixi has returned home safely," Mark reported. "And our men have secured the remaining apartments on her floor."

Cassian said nothing at first. He continued walking, his hands resting lightly in his pockets with an unreadable expression.

To anyone watching, he might have seemed at peace.

Mark, however, knew better. Peace was never truly what lived inside Cassian Crown.

"I also spoke with Yuri Romanov," Mark continued.

At that, Cassian tilted his head the slightest bit over his shoulder, which was more than enough to signal that he should continue without omitting a single detail.

"They are moving to Demond City next month. Tatiana Romanov, the youngest daughter, wants to settle here in the hope of capturing Rafael Crown’s attention."

Cassian’s step did not falter.

"My half-brother always did attract ambitious women," he said mildly.

Mark inclined his head. "It seems your family has already invited the Romanovs to the annual ball. They plan to hold it on the anniversary of Crown’s Hotel."

That, finally, earned a small shift in Cassian’s expression. He gave a slow nod.

"Then it seems," he said, "it’s time for me to make myself visible in society again. And to introduce Lousy Kisser."

Mark’s face remained still, though inwardly, confusion tightened.

He did not understand why his boss was giving so much attention to Miss Cixi. From what little he had seen, she was more danger than peace to him. And Lousy Kisser? The name alone raised its own questions. Had they kissed? From Cixi’s flushed face and Cassian’s mood, it certainly appeared so.

Mark knew many things about his employer.

He knew Cassian was not entirely human, at least not in the way ordinary men were. He knew that fear moved around him differently. He knew that cruelty and charm lived too easily side by side in him.

Yet one question kept returning to Mark’s mind, stubborn as a nail beneath the skin.

Why did Cassian Crown become vulnerable whenever Cixi was near?

And that, in Mark’s view, was far more dangerous than any enemy lurking outside these walls.

Still, he was not foolish enough to say such a thing aloud. If he spoke against Cixi, Cassian would either ignore him or make it clear that the matter was not his.

So Mark remained silent.