The Devil's Favourite Obsession

Finally, they stopped in front of a pair of heavy wooden doors. As everywhere else, two more armed men stood guard at the entrance. They gripped the heavy brass rings of the oak doors and pulled them open in unison.

Emily stepped inside, followed by Cixi, entering a vast sitting room bathed in the warm, golden glow of low-hanging crystal chandeliers, despite the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows flooding the space with natural light.

The room’s aesthetic was museum-quality — Persian rugs over dark hardwood floors, velvet drapery, and antique porcelain vases resting on polished mahogany stands.

Cixi was so distracted that her boots almost clipped Emily’s heels. A servant, moving silently across the floor, gently touched Cixi’s arm, pulling her attention back to the people.

That’s when Cixi caught sight of two figures sitting on a white crescent-shaped couch in the centre of the room.

The man looked to be in his late fifties, impeccably dressed in a tailored navy suit. Beside him sat a woman in her late forties, looking elegant, with diamonds glittering at her throat and wrists.

Emily crossed the room and embraced both the man and the woman intimately before taking a seat in the opposite armchair, making no introductions or offers for Cixi to sit.

Cixi chose to remain standing and not to insult any of the members. She was determined to walk out of this colossal fortress alive, not buried beneath one of the snowy gardens.

Another maid, dressed in a red-and-white uniform, approached the table with a silver tray and poured steaming tea into porcelain cups for three people.

This exclusion didn’t sting Cixi. She was accustomed to cold shoulders and had been treated this way her entire life.

Cassian was the only man who had ever given her attention in a way that made her feel confused. Thinking of Cassian, Cixi snapped back and announced. ”I am here to know if Cassian is alright! Where is he?”

She had no intention of participating in their silent games or wasting her time, although she had a lot of time on her hands. However, they didn’t have to know that.

The man and the woman paused, slowly lifting their gazes, as if they hadn’t noticed her when she had entered with Emily. Even Emily looked slightly taken aback by the bluntness.

”And who are you?” the older woman finally asked in a flat and dismissive tone.

”I am Cassian’s fiancée!” Cixi replied smoothly, keeping her chin level. She decided not to offer her name, as they were not interested. ”I assume the Vice-President of the Crown Hotel has already informed you.”

”How long have you known Cassian?” The man enquired, his voice held an authoritative command which could beat Emily even. She cannot say ’surely’ about Cassian...

”Two months,” she answered without hesitation. Lying about the timeline was too dangerous, and if they dragged out an investigation for six months or a year, her lies would be exposed.

”Two months?” the woman in her forties repeated, her eyes widening in pure, theatrical disbelief. ”And he decided to marry you?!”

Cixi didn’t take it as an offence. ”You should ask him why he decided to marry me.” Cixi mirrored the woman’s stare, folding her arms across her chest. ”He repeatedly told me that if I didn’t behave well with him, he would imprison me. He even claimed I was his and was under his protection.” She wove the threads of reality into her lies. ”I even tried to break up with him because he forgot our two-month anniversary.” She shifted her gaze to Emily. ”Your Vice-President knows exactly what happened next.”

Keeping the teacup aside, Emily retrieved her phone, tapped the screen, and placed it on the coffee table between them.

The man and woman leaned forward, watching the video of Cassian carrying Cixi through the city streets and into Café Le Petit. Pure, unfiltered shock registered on their faces.

They sat thunderstruck, watching a man notoriously devoid of public affection holding a fiercely protective grip on a blonde woman. And that blondy was standing right in front of them.

The older man finally tore his eyes from the screen and stared intently at Cixi’s features. She had a fresh look, like an innocent flower. ”Which family do you come from?” He asked.

’Only if she knew...’ Cixi silently conveyed in her mind. ’Cassian is the one with that answer.’

”May I know who I am speaking to?” she countered smoothly.

The man’s chest expanded as he leaned back against the cushions. ”I am Michael Crown. And this is my wife, Tamara Crown.”

Ofcourse, Cixi knew who he was. She had seen his picture on the hotel’s website. She recalled the articles she had scoured—Michael had been married three times. Tamara was the third wife.

”Where is Cassian?” Cixi pressed again, clutching her purse straps.

”We do not know,” Tamara bluntly replied as if she were entirely unbothered.

”Last I checked, his life was in danger,” Cixi pushed harder, her voice cracking with desperation. ”I simply want to know if he is alright. I swear to you, I will not breathe a word to the press or anyone else. I only want to know if he is still... breathing.” And her hand tightened around the strap.

Michael Crown’s face remained entirely impassive. There was no flicker of parental panic or hint of worry for his son’s potentially severed life.

Tamara looked equally unfazed, sipping her tea as though discussing household chores. Only Emily held a troubled, contemplative look in her eyes, staring at the floor as though retracing steps.

’Is this a dead end?’ Cixi asked herself, her chest tightening as the moment stretched in silence.

”What I think is,” Tamara said with a smug curl to her lips as she placed her teacup back on its saucer, ”that Cassian realised he made a grave mistake. He likely left the country with another woman just to get a new thrill.” She brushed a speck of invisible dust from her skirt. ”You should know how Cassian is. Frankly, you should feel lucky he spent two full months with you... Forget about him. I believe he is entirely done with you.”

Cixi felt the anger rush to her blood. She locked eyes with Tamara. ”I might not have known him for long, but I know he is a man of his word. And I know someone is actively trying to take his life.” Her voice trembled not from fear, but from a surge of raw, painful emotion. ”Either he is dead and someone has hidden his body, or he is hiding somewhere to survive. Don’t you feel ashamed of yourself that a family member is missing... And I am telling you something happened to him, and you are reacting as if I am talking about someone who doesn’t carry Michael Crown’s blood!”

Cixi swallowed hard, her eyes darting to Michael. The coldness radiating from his stoic face reminded her of the emptiness of her own childhood.

She suddenly understood why Cassian acted the way he did.

They were both islands.