She found them. Not just anywhere, but in an erotic hotel, barely a kilometer away from her.
At that moment, Cassandra felt her heart break completely. The fragile thread of hope she had been clinging to snapped.
When she returned, drenched in the rain, everyone expected her to break down. To throw herself into Matthew's arms and sob, demanding answers. But she did none of that.
Instead, she hid her wounds deep inside and walked away, silent and alone.
Matthew, on the other hand, had already rehearsed his excuses. He had assumed that Cassandra would react as she always did: throwing a tantrum, questioning him and crying about why he had abandoned her. Perhaps she’d remind him of the time he left her alone at the hospital for "urgent business matters." But this time, she didn’t.
Expressionless, she brushed past him. Her voice was eerily calm.
"No harm done," she said. "I just felt like walking in the rain."
She didn’t even take the towel he offered. Instead, she lowered her gaze and slipped out of her wet, ill-fitting high heels.
For the first time, Matthew was taken aback. Cassandra’s quietness unsettled him. He reached out again, his voice soft, coaxing.
“If you want to get wet in the rain, then let me join you.”
She let out a bitter laugh and sidestepped his outstretched hand. Her words were cold, detached.
“No need.”
Then, she added, as if sealing their fates, “There’s no need… not anymore.”
Her indifference sent a jolt of panic through Matthew. He froze. He’d never seen her like this before. For the first time, he didn’t rush off to his pressing meeting or heed his assistant’s calls. Instead, he stayed by Cassandra’s side, desperate and uneasy. His voice trembled as he whispered:
“Cassey, did I… do something wrong?”
Cassandra’s gaze met his. The man who once treated her like his everything—the man who claimed he couldn’t live without her—now only looked repulsive to her. She clenched her fists, trying to steady her voice.
"Were you with Julia today?"
The question dropped like a heavy stone in a still lake, shattering the silence.
Matthew’s face darkened. His voice, low and defensive, broke the tension.
"Did Julia fill your head with nonsense again? Cassey, listen to me. I was heading to a meeting when she insisted on getting in my car. She said she was looking for her dog… What was I supposed to do? Kick her out?"
He sounded guilty, his words rushed and uneven.
“We’re all in the same circle of friends. You know how it is. It would’ve been rude to refuse.”
He hesitated, then softened his tone.
“Cassey, believe me. There’s nothing between us. It was just a ride.”
Cassandra understood perfectly now. They had gone to an *erotic hotel* to look for a dog. And even with an empty box of condoms lying around, they were somehow “innocent.”
Matthew’s voice turned tender as he leaned closer. His gaze, full of affection, sought hers.
“Cassey, don’t worry. Julia is nothing compared to you. She’s not worth it. In seven days, we’ll be engaged. Trust me, okay? You’re my Mrs. Lawrence… the only one I’ll ever love.”
Cassandra smiled faintly, but her eyes remained calm, distant. How could someone love her so wholeheartedly with one half of his heart while tearing her apart with the other? His assurances sounded convincing, but to Cassandra, they were just words—empty, meaningless.
She gave no answer.
Only Cassandra knew the truth: the organization had arranged for her to fake her own death. There would be no engagement, no future with Matthew. Seven days from now, on their engagement day, all he would receive was the news of her "death" in an explosion. There would be no body left to bury.
The next morning, the nanny greeted her with an update.
“Mr. Lawrence worked late into the night after his meeting. He’s worried about you, afraid you’d do something rash. He barely slept on the sofa outside your room and left early this morning to buy your favorite lasagna jars.”
Cassandra stirred her cup of milk, her expression blank. This was just like Matthew. The ruthless businessman, feared in the corporate world, would transform into a doting boyfriend at home—cooking for her, pampering her, rubbing her feet. He was attentive to the point of perfection.
When Matthew returned, carrying the lasagna jars, the nanny couldn’t help but sigh.
“Mr. Lawrence is such a good husband to be. I’ve never seen a man this considerate.”
Cassandra forced a polite smile but said nothing. Even as they sat across from each other during breakfast, an unusual silence lingered between them.
Finally, Matthew broke it. His gaze was intense, his voice low but tinged with vulnerability.
“Cassey, please don’t interact with that punk anymore, okay?”
His words took her by surprise, but he continued, softening his tone.
“Every time I see him giving you something, I’m terrified. I’m scared you’ll leave me for him.”
A bitter smile crossed Cassandra’s lips. The "punk" he was referring to was actually his estranged half-brother, Thomas lawrence. Disguised as a man, Thomas had been searching for his sister while secretly working as an informant for the White Team—a role Cassandra couldn’t reveal to protect her identity.
Three months ago, Matthew had caught her with Thomas. Despite her explanations, he hadn’t believed her. That night, he had drowned himself in alcohol and slept with Julia.
At a party later that evening, Julia arrived uninvited, her entrance drawing everyone’s attention. Her dress clung to her figure, the marks on her skin visible beneath the thin fabric. Cassandra felt Matthew stiffen beside her, his breath hitching as Julia sauntered into the room.
Once, he had scorned Julia, warning Cassandra to avoid her. Yet now, his contradictions spoke volumes. Cassandra’s heart ached as she realized the depth of his betrayal.
Cassandra couldn’t remember how things had spiraled to this point. When had their lives become entangled enough for her to end up sharing a bed with Matthew? Yet, the moment seemed less like intimacy and more like a cruel joke when Julia walked into the party.
Her arrival sent ripples through the lively gathering, silencing the room. Whispers accompanied knowing glances and some guests were even dragged away by their girlfriends, all too familiar with Julia’s reputation. Julia, with her striking allure and unabashed confidence, thrived on chaos. She had woven herself into the lives of many men in the room, leaving trails of gossip and envy.
Yet, when Julia’s gaze landed on Cassandra, her lips curved into a smile that was more predatory than friendly.
“Cassey, I envy you so much,” Julia cooed, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. “To have a fiancé no one else can steal.”
Her words carried a dangerous edge as she sat down opposite Matthew, her movements deliberately provocative. The party resumed, but Cassandra noticed the tension in Matthew’s demeanor. His usually calm and commanding presence faltered as he suddenly lowered his head, suppressing a grunt.
“What’s wrong?” Cassandra asked, concerned.
Matthew hesitated before raising his face. His composure returned quickly, though a faint redness lingered on his skin.
“I’m fine,” he replied with a forced calmness. But Cassandra caught the way his eyes flashed with anger, shooting daggers at Julia, who was now laughing uncontrollably.
The laughter only grew louder as Julia leaned against her friend, her dress slipping dangerously low. It was then that Cassandra’s gaze fell beneath the table and her blood froze. Julia’s high-heeled foot was shamelessly sliding along Matthew’s leg.
Matthew’s face was a mask of stoicism, but the redness creeping to his ears betrayed his discomfort. Cassandra’s fury boiled over.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” she snapped, her voice sharp enough to draw attention.
Julia’s grin widened, unapologetic. Before Matthew could respond, Cassandra bolted from her seat, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. Her heart was pounding as she stormed into the restroom, splashing cold water onto her face. But no amount of water could cool the searing betrayal she felt.
As she passed the men’s restroom on her way back, muffled voices caught her attention.
“I’m the one who fits you best, am I not?” Julia’s flirtatious tone was unmistakable.
Cassandra froze.
“Someone like her couldn’t handle you,” Julia continued, her voice laced with seduction.
Matthew’s growl interrupted her. “Enough! Shut up, Julia!”
But Julia’s laughter echoed, her words a dagger to Cassandra’s heart. “Matt, don’t deny it. You know I’ll always belong to you.”
The world around Cassandra blurred. She stumbled outside, her limbs numb. Rain poured down, soaking her as she wandered aimlessly. She wasn’t sure how long she walked until the screech of brakes jolted her back to reality. A car had stopped inches away from her.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed?!” the driver yelled before speeding off. Cassandra didn’t respond. Perhaps she was, in a way. For how else could she explain her foolishness in loving someone like Matthew?
As if the night hadn’t punished her enough, a thief snatched her bag, shoving her into a puddle. Drenched and alone, she sat on the shore until dawn, her mind as turbulent as the crashing waves. She felt like a ghost—lost, homeless and invisible.
