Chapter 2 First Encounter with Cassian

Seraphina's POV

I didn't expect him to be so...well, so cold. The first time I saw Cassian Wrenford, it was as if I were looking at a frozen, unreachable glacier. He was tall and built like someone who spent more time at the gym than in a boardroom, and he stood in the doorway of my office. His dark hair was groomed exactly right, and his tailored suit looked like it had been fashioned just for him. He was powerful and in charge, everything I wasn't.

He didn't grin or even nod when he walked in. I could feel his gaze like ice slicing through my flesh as it swept over me. "Seraphina Vale," he said in a quiet, steady drawl. It sounded like he was tasting my name when he pronounced it.

I rose up and reached out my hand, attempting to hide the shaking in my palm. "Yes, Mr. Wrenford," I said, not sure if I should sit down or keep standing.

He didn't hold my hand. His eyes were locked on mine, as if he were studying every part of me, down to the smallest detail. And then, without saying a word, he turned and walked to the other side of my office. His back was stiff, and his motions were so exact that they seemed planned.

I felt my heart skip a beat, and for a moment I thought I was dreaming it. But as he looked back at me, those black eyes narrowed as if he were trying to figure me out like a puzzle. There was something in his eyes that made me stop breathing, something profound and scary that made me think he knew something I didn't.

He left my office without saying anything else. But before he did, I saw the smallest flash of something in his eyes for just a second. What about guilt? Sorry? Or something far darker?

I stayed still, trying to force the notion away, but it stuck to me like an unseen string.

The hours went by, but I couldn't concentrate. The cold, calculating look in Cassian's eyes kept coming back to me. I had a lot of stuff to do, such tasks, paperwork, and a never-ending list of things to complete. But everything else seemed less important, like if my body was waiting for the next time I would see him.

Then, just when I thought the stress would go away, the door to my office opened again. Cassian stood in the doorway, and it felt like he owned every inch of the room. When our eyes connected, I could feel the intensity of his gaze immediately away. It was so heavy that it felt like he could see right through me.

"Seraphina," he stated in a sharp voice. "By the end of the day, I need you to finish this." He put a heavy folder on my desk and ran his fingertips over it just long enough for me to feel it-a spark of something I couldn't name.

"Of course," I said, nodding, even though my head was already spinning, drawn in by his calm manner and quiet authority.

He stayed still. He lingered there, watching me work, and his presence felt like a storm cloud hanging just above me. I could tell he was watching me as I opened the folder and looked through the papers. It wasn't just the weight of his stare that made me uneasy; it was the quiet, stillness of the air around us that made me feel uneasy.

I could almost feel how strong his thoughts were as he watched every little motion I made. It felt as if he were watching me and waiting for something, but I couldn't figure out what. He had a small smile on his lips, but it was gone before I could get a hold of it.

I was just about to ask him anything when I heard something-Cassian's voice, low and faint, right outside my office. Mark, his assistant, was talking to him in a hurried whisper.

"Do you think she's ready for this?" Mark questioned, his voice full of worry. "She's going deeper than we thought, Cassian." We can't afford to make another mistake.

Cassian didn't answer right away. His voice was as cool and controlled as always.

"She'll do what she has to do." We'll make sure of it. He said it in such a way that it made my blood run cold.

I glanced around, but they were gone.

I sat there for a time, the words hanging in the air like a heavy mist. What had I just heard? And why did it seem like they were talking about me? I couldn't let my mind wander for too long since I had to get back to work. But the words stayed with me, like a poisoned needle that wouldn't leave my thoughts.

I couldn't concentrate on the paperwork. I couldn't concentrate on anything. I got up and walked around the room to try to shake off the feeling of unease that was creeping up on me. What did he mean when he said "make sure of it"? What were they going to do with me? What was I getting into?

A light knock on the door brought me back to reality. When I turned around, Cassian was standing there again, his shadow filling the doorway. You couldn't read his face, but there was something there-a flash of something, a quiet strain.

He replied in a cold, indifferent voice, "I need those papers by the end of the day." "You've got this, Seraphina." "Not a single mistake." His eyes met mine for a second, and they were piercing and intense.

"Of course," I said, my throat tight. The air between us felt heavier, and for a while I wondered whether he could feel it too-the tension, the unspoken feeling of something too deadly to touch.

But he didn't stay long. He turned around and walked away, leaving me alone with my racing heart and the file that now felt like a ticking time bomb.

I was still trying to deal with how heavy my first day at Wrenford Holdings was, and I was trying to focus on the huge amount of work I had to do. But the chatter in the office and the hallways made it impossible. I had never been one to talk, but in this location, it seemed like the walls were breathing rumors.

At that point, Amanda, a coworker from the marketing department, came up to my desk and looked about anxiously, as if she wanted to make sure no one was observing.

"You should be careful," she whispered in a low voice, as if she didn't want anyone to hear. I looked up from the papers and into her eyes, my mind a jumble of bewilderment.

"Careful about what?" I inquired because I wasn't sure whether I was reading too much into her tone.

She looked back over her shoulder and then leaned in a little more. "About Cassian Wrenford and his family," she said, her voice dropping even lower. "They're not what they seem, Seraphina." You don't want to become connected with them, trust me.

My chest got constricted. My mind went back to the short meeting I had with Cassian this morning. The way he looked at me with a cold, impersonal expression and scarcely recognized my presence. But it was something else-the way his eyes seemed to see right through me. Was there more to it? Was he part of the web of falsehoods that surrounded my father's death?

"What do you mean?" I pressed, my voice low, and the curiosity ate at me.

Amanda's eyes darted about uncomfortably, and before I could ask her anything else, she stood up straight and walked away. "Just... be careful," she added as she turned around and walked away, leaving the busy workers behind.

I sat there with my heart pounding and my mind trying to figure out what she had said. But just as I was about to contact my mom, something caught my eye. A small message was on my desk as if it had always been there.

"Don't put your faith in Cassian Wrenford."

I couldn't breathe. The writing was strange-rough and hurried. I looked around, thinking that someone would be observing me. But there was no one there. No one else was there, just me and the note that might have sealed my fate.

The office lobby was nearly empty later that night, when it was dark. The noise and activity had stopped, leaving just the quiet hum of the lights above and the distant ring of elevators. I headed toward the door, anxious to get away from the heavy feeling of the building, but something stopped me.

A big artwork was hanging on the far wall of the lobby. It took me a minute to figure out what I was looking at. My father was standing next to a younger version of Cassian Wrenford, and he was smiling. They were in a corporate atmosphere, wearing sharp suits and shaking hands in front of a table in a boardroom.

I didn't know what I was going to see when I got closer to the painting. It could be a coincidence or just another corporate exhibit to fill the walls. But I couldn't get any air. Seeing my father, who was younger and more alive, standing next to Cassian like they were old friends sent a shiver down my spine.

They were linked. <|image_sentinel|>I had never met them until I came here. My dad had never talked about Cassian or even indicated that he knew him. But in this picture, they were on the same side. Even friends.

As I looked at the picture, I felt something chilly flow through me. I tried Line up the questions that were racing through my thoughts. What had my dad been up to? Why did he keep this a secret? And why had Cassian never spoken anything about it?

I stopped breathing when I realized I wasn't alone.

Cassian himself was standing at the doorway and watching me. His dark eyes were locked on mine, but this time there was no veneer of indifference. There was something there that flickered, something primal and scary.

I couldn't say anything because I was so scared. My heart was racing in my chest. He must have seen the look of familiarity in my eyes and how I kept looking back and forth between the artwork and him. But instead of saying anything or providing anything, he just turned and walked away without saying anything.

And just like that, the tension between us got much worse. Cassian had to have known that I was onto him. But what did he know about me? What do you want to know about my dad?

As I watched him get into the elevator, my questions only grew.