Cassidy slipped out of Cristian's grip with agonizing slowness. She left the bed and walked into the master bathroom, pulling the heavy door shut behind her until only a tiny crack remained.

She turned on the faucet. She cupped the freezing water in her hands and splashed it directly into her face. The shock of the cold did nothing to stop the racing of her heart.

Water dripped down her pale cheeks and off her chin. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were red-rimmed and pathetic.

She grabbed a thick towel and pressed it to her face. Her mind dragged her back to that boardroom three years ago. When Cristian had proposed the marriage of convenience, her hands had shaken so badly she could barely hold the pen. It was not out of humiliation. It was the absolute, dizzying shock of winning the lottery. She was marrying the man she had loved from afar.

She lowered the towel and let out a bitter laugh. She was suitable because she was ordinary. She was easy to control.

A sharp, demanding ringtone pierced the air. It came from the bedroom. It was not a vibration. It was the specific ringtone Cristian set for high-priority contacts.

Cassidy dropped the towel on the marble counter. Her pulse hammered in her ears. She walked silently to the bathroom door and peered through the narrow gap.

On the bed, Cristian sat up. He ran a hand through his messy hair, looking deeply irritated.

He reached across the nightstand and grabbed his phone. He glanced at the screen, and his dark eyebrows slammed together in a harsh line.

He swiped to answer. "What," he barked. His voice was thick with sleep and zero patience.

Darren Madden's loud, slurred voice bled through the phone's speaker. Even from the bathroom, Cassidy could hear the thumping bass of a nightclub in the background.

"Cris! You gotta come down here," Darren yelled over the noise. "Hayden is at a club in SoHo. She is completely wasted and refusing to leave."

Cassidy slapped a hand over her own mouth. Her fingernails dug painfully into her cheeks. The nightmare was happening right now.

"Come on, man," Darren pleaded, sounding drunk himself. "Just come pick her up. For old times' sake."

The air in the bedroom seemed to freeze. Cassidy stopped breathing entirely. She stared at Cristian's broad back, waiting for the executioner's blade to fall.

Cristian let out a short, cold laugh. There was zero warmth in his tone. "Are you out of your mind?"

Darren stuttered on the other end. "She keeps crying and screaming your name."

Cristian cut him off instantly. "If she is drunk, call the police. Why the hell are you calling me?"

Darren tried to speak again, but Cristian did not let him.

"I am a married man," Cristian stated, his voice dropping to a dangerous, icy pitch. "Do not bother me with this garbage again."

Before Darren could form another word, Cristian hit the end button. He tossed the phone back onto the nightstand with a loud clatter.

Behind the door, Cassidy's knees gave out. She slumped against the doorframe, sliding down a few inches. A massive wave of relief crashed over her, bringing tears of pure shock to her eyes. He had rejected her.

Cristian turned his head toward the bathroom. He saw the sliver of light coming from the door. "Cassidy?"

Cassidy scrambled to her feet. She quickly adjusted her robe, pulling it tight around her waist. She pushed the door open and walked out, pretending she was just finishing up.

She walked to her side of the bed, forcing her voice to sound calm. "Is everything okay? Did the phone wake you?"

Cristian looked at her. He noticed the redness around her eyes. He reached out, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her down.

She landed on his lap. His large hands rubbed up and down her back in a soothing motion. "It was just a spam call," he said, his voice low and steady. "Go back to sleep."

Cassidy rested her cheek against his bare chest. She listened to the strong, rhythmic beating of his heart. Her own heart was still a mess of tangled wires.

He was lying to her. He had rejected Hayden, but he was hiding the truth from her. He did not want her to know Hayden was calling for him. The relief she felt a moment ago vanished, replaced by a dark, creeping suspicion.

Cassidy waited until Cristian's breathing deepened into the steady rhythm of sleep. She carefully untangled herself from his arms and slid off the mattress. She walked out of the bedroom and headed toward the massive open kitchen.

Her bare feet slapped softly against the freezing marble floor. She walked to the island, grabbed a glass, and filled it with ice water from the dispenser.

She tipped her head back and drank the whole glass. The freezing liquid hit her stomach, trying to calm the violent cramps twisting her insides.

The phone she had left on the marble counter suddenly lit up. A soft buzz accompanied the light.

Cassidy set the empty glass down. She picked up the phone. It was an iMessage from Joy. It was a video file.

She hesitated for a fraction of a second. She quickly pressed the volume button down to mute, then tapped play.

The video was shaky. It showed a dark, neon-lit VIP booth at a club. Hayden was slumped over a table, wearing a tiny slip dress.

Cassidy stared at the screen. Even without sound, she could easily read Hayden's lips. She was sobbing, repeating the same word over and over: Cristian.

A second later, a text bubble popped up from Joy. "Darren and his idiot friends just said Cristian is already on his way to get her."

Cassidy's hand jerked violently. The phone slipped from her fingers and slammed hard against the marble counter. The crack echoed in the silent kitchen.

Her eyes widened in absolute horror. Her brain scrambled to process the information. Cristian had been so cold on the phone. Was it all an act? Did he wait for her to fall asleep so he could sneak out and play the hero?

She did not bother looking for her slippers. She turned and ran back down the long hallway toward the master bedroom. Her heart pounded so hard it felt like it was going to break her ribs.

She shoved the heavy bedroom door open and stared at the center of the room.

The bed was empty. The covers were thrown back on his side.

Cassidy felt the blood drain from her face. The room spun. She turned her head toward the massive walk-in closet.

The black trench coat he always wore was gone from its hook.

A suffocating wave of despair swallowed her whole. Her legs lost all strength. She leaned against the doorframe, sliding down until she hit the thick carpet.

She shoved her fist into her mouth, biting down hard on her own skin to stop the pathetic sobs from ripping out of her throat. She was a fool. She was just a placeholder.

Then, a sharp beep echoed from the front of the penthouse. The electronic lock on the main door clicked open.

Cassidy flinched. She pulled her hand from her mouth and wiped the tears off her face with the back of her sleeve.

She grabbed the wall and forced herself to stand. She stumbled out of the bedroom and walked toward the foyer.

The motion sensor lights flicked on. Cristian was standing by the front door. He was wearing his black trench coat. He was taking off his shoes. In his left hand, he held a brown paper bag.

He heard her footsteps and looked up. His dark eyes instantly locked onto her red, swollen eyes and her bare feet on the cold floor.

His jaw tightened. He closed the distance between them in three long strides. "Why are you walking around without shoes?" he demanded, his voice sharp with reprimand.

Cassidy just stood there. She stared at him, her brain completely short-circuiting. She could not process what she was seeing.

Cristian let out a heavy sigh. He bent down, scooped her up into his arms, and carried her into the living room.

He dropped her onto the plush sofa. He placed the brown paper bag on the glass coffee table. The smell of toasted bread and melted cheese wafted into the air.

"You were tossing and turning," Cristian said, unbuttoning his coat. "I figured you were hungry. I went down to the 24-hour deli on the corner and got you a sandwich."

Cassidy looked at the steaming bag of food. The tears she had just fought back broke loose again. They poured down her face, this time born from the overwhelming, dizzying high of absolute relief.

Cristian froze. He looked completely out of his depth. He sat down next to her, his large, rough thumbs clumsily wiping the tears off her cheeks. "Cassidy, what happened?" he asked, his voice dropping to a low, concerned rumble. "Why are you crying?"

Cristian picked Cassidy up from the sofa and carried her back down the hallway. He walked into the master bedroom and placed her gently in the center of the bed.

He pulled a thin blanket up over her legs. He turned around and walked toward the adjoining sitting room to pour her a glass of warm water.

Cassidy sniffled. She watched his broad shoulders disappear around the corner. A heavy wave of guilt washed over her. She had doubted him.

Then, panic spiked in her chest. Her phone. She had left it on the kitchen island. Joy might send another message.

Cassidy threw the blanket off. She sprinted out of the bedroom, her bare feet slapping against the floorboards, and ran straight to the kitchen. She grabbed the phone off the marble counter.

The moment her fingers touched the screen, a new voice message popped up from Joy.

Cassidy's heart raced. She was desperate to hear exactly what Joy had to say. Her hand trembled as she reached for the screen. She intentionally tapped the play icon, completely forgetting that her phone was still paired to the kitchen's Bluetooth speaker system from when she was listening to music earlier that evening. Instantly, Joy's voice blasted through the penthouse at maximum volume.

"Cass! Did your husband go or not? That little bitch is still crying at the club. You better not let him rekindle his old flame!"

The words echoed off the high ceilings like a bomb going off.

Cassidy screamed. She fumbled with the phone, desperately trying to hit the volume down button. Her hands shook so violently that the phone slipped from her grasp and crashed onto the hardwood floor.

Cristian walked out of the sitting room, holding a glass of water. He stopped dead in his tracks at the edge of the hallway.

The apartment fell into a suffocating, dead silence. The only sound was the faint rattle of the phone settling on the floor.

Cassidy stood frozen by the island. All the blood rushed out of her face, leaving her chalk-white. She forgot how to breathe. Her mind went completely blank.

Cristian looked down at the phone on the floor. He slowly lifted his gaze and locked eyes with Cassidy, who was shaking like a terrified child.

He did not yell. He did not throw the glass. He walked forward with slow, measured steps. He placed the water glass on the marble counter.

He bent down and picked up the phone. The screen had a spiderweb crack across it. He pressed the lock button, silencing the device.

He handed the phone back to her. His dark, piercing eyes never left her face.

Cassidy reached out with a trembling hand and took it. She dropped her chin to her chest, bracing herself for the explosion of his anger.

Instead, Cristian reached out. He pinched her chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing her head up so she had to look him in the eye.

"Is this why you were crying earlier?" he asked. His voice was terrifyingly calm, but it demanded the absolute truth.

Cassidy bit her lower lip so hard she tasted copper. Tears welled up in her eyes again. She gave a tiny, jerky nod.

Cristian let out a long breath. His thumb moved, slowly stroking the soft skin of her cheek. His expression turned deadly serious.

"Listen to me, Cassidy," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Hayden and I ended things three years ago. There is nothing left."

Cassidy blinked. Her breath hitched. In three years of marriage, he had never once explained his past to her.

Cristian stepped closer, his chest almost touching hers. "I have zero interest in recycling garbage from the past. And I certainly would not run out in the middle of the night for her." He paused, his thumb gently stroking her jawline. "And when Darren called earlier, I didn't tell you who it was because I didn't want you to worry over nothing. It was nonsense, and it had no place in our bedroom."

The word "garbage" hit Cassidy's ears and sent a shockwave of pure joy straight to her heart. The heavy, suffocating weight in her chest evaporated.

Cristian watched the fear leave her eyes. The corner of his mouth twitched upward in a helpless, almost fond smirk.

He pulled her into his chest. He rested his chin on the top of her head. "Next time you have a question, ask me. Stop listening to outsiders."

Cassidy buried her face into his solid chest. She wrapped her arms tight around his waist and let out a soft "Okay." The crisis that had nearly destroyed her mind was gone.