*Warning - This chapter contains a theme of attempted suicide*
As soon as the lift doors slid open, Cixi pushed herself forward, forcing her feet to move even though every part of her wanted to crumble where she stood.
She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand and pushed herself to keep walking, ignoring their stares as she headed straight for Nelson's office.
Her hand rose to knock, but she hesitated for a brief second before gathering the courage to rap her knuckles against the door.
"Come in." After Nelson gave his permission, she pushed the door open and stepped inside, only to freeze.
Nelson was not alone. His wife was sitting across from him. The moment their eyes met, Nelson's wife, Angelina, gave her a dirty look, clearly disgusted by her presence and by her audacity to come here to meet her husband. She sprang to her feet. "YOU! Home-wrecker! Why are you here?!" she stormed toward Cixi and raised her hand to strike her. But Cixi reacted quickly, caught her wrist mid-air, and pushed her back to create distance.
"I am not a home-wrecker!" Cixi protested, her voice shaking but firm. "And I have done nothing wrong! I came here to clarify the misunderstanding. That video—that's not me! I could never do something like that. I was never interested in your husband. And certainly I am not into a married man!" She turned desperately to Nelson. "Please believe me. It was never me. I swear it wasn't. "I don't know who created the deep fake video. And why did someone use my face? But certainly it's not me."
Before Nelson could respond, his wife stepped in front of Cixi, blocking him from view.
"Whatever you want to say, say it to me, not to my husband," she snapped. "Don't even look at my husband. I know girls like you. You use your youth to trap married men and climb higher in status. It is clear your parents taught you no values before they died. You may have fooled others before, but you cannot fool me. My husband took pity on you and gave you a job, and this is how you repay him? By seducing him?" Her voice dropped into a cold warning. "Leave now before I lose my patience."
But Cixi wasn't going to leave without clearing her name. "Ma'am, this is all a misunderstanding!" Cixi pleaded. She tilted her head to look at Nelson again. But he avoided her eyes.
His wife was losing her patience, and she turned sharply to her husband. "Nelson, tell her. Or should I tell her?"
Taking a deep breath, he finally spoke. "Cixi McLore… you are terminated from the company. Effective immediately. Your immature action had a great effect on the company's reputation. Hence, you will not receive this month's salary. It is a management decision."
The words struck her like a physical blow, knocking the breath out of Cixi.
For a moment, she could not breathe and tears once again spilled from her eyes. " Please don't do this to me? Please, I need that money," she sounded desperate. "Please… I worked hard for it. I understand if I am fired, and I accept, but please, that salary is my hard-earned money. I need it. Or I will have no home or food. At least give me my salary, Manager. Please help me!"
Everything that had occurred since morning felt unreal.
She had woken up hopeful and believed she could endure another day. But now everything was collapsing in her imperfect world. What should she do? Whom should she ask for help?
"GET OUT!" Nelson's wife screamed, jolting Cixi, but she could not leave without her money. She wanted her money.
"Not until I get my salary. I am not leaving." Cixi declared.
When Cixi refused to leave, security was called. Within minutes, she was forced out of the building and pushed onto the pavement outside.
She stood there, staring up at the building with a distant look. Some people watched her with curiosity. Others walked past without a second glance.
After watching the building for an unknown length of time, she slowly made her way back to her apartment, like someone defeated in war.
On the way, a message arrived on her phone reminding her that rent, electricity, and water bills were due tomorrow. Her chest tightened, and tears fell even more. She called the landlord immediately, but his response was very simple—if she could not pay within one week, she must vacate the apartment.
That night, without a jacket or shoes, Cixi walked up to the terrace of the building, the cold floor biting into her bare feet. Snow fell softly from the sky, coating her and the city in fragile white. But she felt nothing.
She walked toward the railing and looked down at the empty street below, which resembled exactly what she felt.
Empty! Abandoned! Hollow!
She lifted her gaze toward the sky. People said God watched from above. So she searched the heavens for an answer. And none came.
Tears slid down her cheeks for what felt like the hundredth time that day. She felt utterly alone and helpless.
Slowly, she opened her fist and looked at the coin Cassian had given her. The metal shone faintly under the falling snow. She stared at it for a long moment, the coin that was supposed to bring her luck. She closed her fingers around it tightly, closed her eyes, and jumped.
For a heartbeat, there was only the silence that exists before something irreversible happens. Then the wind rushed past her, tearing at her hair, clawing at her clothes, filling her ears with a violent howl. She waited for the impact. She waited for the pain. She waited until the end.
"Your life belongs to me, Cixi." A voice echoed in her head. And it reached her before she was fully aware of what was happening around her.
Only after realising she was no longer plummeting towards the pavement, but was held by someone with strong arms. Her lashes lifted and found a man's gaze fixed upon her.
His one arm supported the small of her back, the other curved beneath her knees, and he held her as though she were as light as the snowflakes swirling around them.
"Let me be clear—you had or have no right to take your life, not before settling your parents' debt and certainly not without my permission."
Cixi might have reacted to man's words or had paid attention to his remarks, but her mind was spinning from the shock of falling from the eleventh floor and still being alive.
And this man showed neither a single strain in his muscles nor any hint of struggle when he caught her. She focused on his features and felt a sense of familiarity. She thought deeper, trying to find him in her memory... why he looked familiar.
Then it clicked.
Cassian.
Cassian Crown.
He was Cassian Crown.
What was he doing here on this street? A street known only for poor people living here.
Snow swirled around them, but not a single flake seemed to dare settle upon him. The winter coat was still missing, and his posture remained unshaken by cold or snow. He watched her intently.
"What are you doing here?" Cixi asked in bewilderment. "And why did you catch me?" She demanded an answer. "Who asked you to—" Her words were cut off.
"Shh," Cassian's hushed her. "Did you even hear a single word I spoke before?" he questioned her, "I am not the person who likes to say the same thing twice." He remarked as though they were discussing a missed conference note rather than her attempt at death.
"I don't care what you told me before," she retorted. "You had no right to—"
"Cixi." He again cut her off. His hand tightened almost imperceptibly at her waist, drawing her a fraction closer to him. "Either you keep that mouth of yours closed," his gaze dropping briefly to her lips, "or I will use mine to make you stop talking."
She froze at once. Her fingers, which had been fisted against her chest, loosened and hovered uselessly in the air. Her breath snagged, caught between a gasp and a protest she no longer dared to voice.
Only then did she feel that her feet were bare, and her body wrapped in nothing more than morning clothes, without a jacket, yet the winter chill did not bite her. The warmth she felt had seeped into her from where she sat, caged against him. Cassian's body radiated a heat that shielded her from the chill outside.
"I–I am cold," Cixi lied, fingers gathering weakly at the front of his shirt as if she could pull herself away that way. "I need to go back to my apartment. You can let me go now." Her gaze slid off his face and fixed somewhere over his shoulder, as if meeting his eyes would somehow undo her.
"Cixi McLore, you still do not understand your situation." His grip adjusted, more secure than before, and he turned without haste toward the car waiting on the main road. "You are coming with me as my prisoner!"
Prisoner?
The word landed like a lightning bolt.
Feeling anxious and panicked, she writhed in his arms, twisting her body, trying to wrench herself free from the cage of his hold. "What you are doing, Sir, is called kidnapping," she bit out, her breath breaking with every jolt. "I will call the police and make sure you rot behind bars, Sir."
"Be my guest." His reply was almost languid. He did not even glance down at her, and that indifference rattled her more than anger could have.
Her hands balled into fists and began thudding against his chest, the blows light yet frantic. "What are you going to do to me, Sir? A-are you going to sell me to human traffickers for money, Sir?" Cixi was panicking even more. "I have heard you have a lot of money. And I am sure you will not get much money for selling someone like me. You are only wasting your time..." When he didn't budge, Cixi yelled at him. "Let me go!"
Cixi had viewed numerous documentaries on human trafficking after her parents' funeral. Living alone, she wanted to shield herself from such traffickers. Therefore, she studied through documentaries how they schemed and trapped their victims. There were many men who deceived young girls under the pretext of relationships and sold them to others after gaining their complete trust.
This was enough for her to resolve never to date anyone until she graduated, nor attend late-night events aside from work.
She even dyed her hair from blonde to black because people claimed that blonde girls were valued more and that traffickers particularly looked out for those with blonde hair. Additionally, she avoided makeup to evade attracting attention and hid her figure in loose-fitting jumpers and shapeless t-shirts and coats so that no one would give her a second glance. Still, despite her efforts, she somehow attracted unwanted attention.
And on the night she chose to leave the world on her own terms, this billionaire had caught her, claiming her as his prisoner... For what?
"Sir, I swear I will kill you if you—"
Cassian stopped walking. Before the rest of the threat could spill out, he shifted his hold with effortless strength and lifted her a fraction higher. Her body rose with the motion, and their faces drew closer in one smooth arc. Her breath hitched when she realised her lips hovered only an inch from his, so close she could feel the ghost of his exhale brush her own.
Her mouth snapped shut.
The memory of his earlier warning of what he would do to keep her lips sealed surged back with startling clarity.