The Devil's Favourite Obsession

The next morning, Cixi woke early.

She sat at the small desk with a notepad in front of her and began writing something down. She wrote a line, frowned at it, scratched it out, and started again.

Then once more. And again. She kept rewriting until at last she was satisfied.

Only then did she set the pen down and read the words on the page carefully, her eyes moving over every line as though checking for any hidden flaws.

After a moment, she tore the sheet neatly from the pad, folded it, and slipped it into her large purse.

Then she got ready for work.

Before leaving, she made sure to take Lily’s bag with her, and after that she headed to Warm Land Cafe.

The day passed as usual. She made no mistakes, which meant Amanda’s sharp eyes never once settled on her for long. That alone should have made the shift easier, yet her nerves refused to quiet.

The folded note inside her purse seemed to get her attention all day, as if it were not paper at all but a ticking time bomb.

By the time her shift ended, it was already six in the evening.

She changed her clothes and picked up her large purse, her fingers tightening around the strap as nervousness crept through her again.

As soon as she stepped out of the Warm Land Cafe, she saw a black car waiting for her.

Mark stood beside it, holding the rear door open.

Cixi paused for only a second, then walked towards the car and got in. Mark shut the door behind her and then moved to the front passenger seat.

Throughout the drive, Cixi could not relax.

Her thoughts kept circling around the same things. How should she act? What exactly should she say? How would Cassian respond?

Her hands felt colder than the temperature inside the car, and every few minutes she had to press them together to hide their trembling.

When the car finally came to a stop, they were in an underground parking area.

Mark stepped out first and opened the door for her again.

Cixi climbed out, her eyes flicking to him at once, and she noticed his face remained unreadable, his expression stoic as ever. She tried to study him, tried to find some trace of the man who had once shared food with her, yet he gave her nothing.

That unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.

Why would he not say a word to her? Why act as though they had never exchanged even the smallest food-sharing moment?

By the time they stepped into the lift together, Cixi was no longer sure about what she was about to do.

The ride upward felt unbearably quiet.

When the doors finally slid open, Mark led her down the corridor to the floor where Cassian was waiting.

Cixi’s heart began pounding so hard it felt like a drum inside her chest. She swallowed, but her throat remained dry.

Mark opened the door for her.

She stepped inside on shaky legs, clutching her purse tightly as though that alone could steady her and stop her from collapsing onto the floor like a fool.

At first, the room looked almost empty.

Her gaze moved around it in confusion until she noticed another door further inside. She walked towards it, pushed it open, and stepped through.

And there he was.

Cassian sat alone on a single sofa, perfectly dressed, his posture composed, his presence filling the room with his commanding aura. He was already looking at her.

”I was surprised to receive your call,” Cassian confessed, his gaze resting on her with unnerving steadiness. ”I had thought I might never hear from you again. Not even a thank you after I sent you something sweet.”

”Thank you,” Cixi blurted out at once.

The words came out too quickly, and even she could hear the strain in them. She was trying so hard to hold herself together, yet Cassian could see it plainly. The stiffness in her shoulders, the way her fingers clutched the strap of her purse, and the nervous swallow she could not quite hide—none of it escaped him.

”Sit.”

He gestured towards the single sofa where he could observe her well.

Cixi sat down immediately, almost too fast, and swallowed again, her throat still dry despite the effort.

”You are quiet today.”

She shook her head, as though to deny it, yet no words followed.

Cassian narrowed his eyes at her for a brief moment before the sharpness in his expression eased.

”Water?”

Cixi nodded again.

Without another word, Cassian rose from his seat, crossed to a small fridge, and retrieved a bottle of water. Then, instead of handing it to her, he tossed it lightly in her direction.

Cixi caught it in a startled reflex.

A faint look of amusement touched his face. ”Good catch.”

She quickly unscrewed the cap and drank far more than she intended, as though the water might calm the frantic beating of her heart. Once she had swallowed enough to steady herself, she placed the bottle down on the table.

Then, with careful movements, she opened her purse and pulled out the folded paper she had carried all day, holding it out to him.

Cassian took it from her hand, unfolded it, and read the very first line.

His brows lifted.

”Kissing Contract.”

His eyes moved to her at once. ”What is this?”

Cixi parted her lips, though for a second no sound came out. It felt as though her voice had hidden itself somewhere deep inside her.

She reached for the water again, took another small sip, and then finally managed, ”A contract.”

Cassian looked back at the page before asking, ”For what?”

”Could you please read it first?” Cixi set the bottle down once more and folded her damp hands together, willing herself not to tremble. ”Then I’ll explain.”

Cassian did not speak immediately.

He simply looked at her for a long, indistinct moment, as though trying to decide whether she had lost her senses or whether this was merely another side of her he had yet to uncover.

Then, at last, his gaze dropped back to the page.

And Cixi sat perfectly still, forcing herself to remain strong.

She had come too far to lose her nerve now.

Then he read!

”You want to stand in the same room,” Cassian drawled slowly, ”while I fuck another woman?”

Though the contract Cixi had placed before him was outrageous, Cassian revealed nothing of his surprise. He remained composed; only his eyes sharpened slightly as he studied her more carefully.

”Yes,” Cixi replied quickly and subtly straightened in her chair, pointing at the document with forced steadiness. ”It is clearly written. You may continue reading.”

He watched that finger.

Watched the effort it took for her not to pull it back.

If he had possessed supernatural senses, he might have detected the tremor in her composure and the violent racing of her heart. But thank God he was still human, Cixi thought, even after miraculously rising from his deathbed after being shot seven times.

”And I am only permitted to kiss you,” he went on, reading further, his voice now almost amused. ”Even if I am buried inside someone else.” His eyes lifted, resting fully on her now. ”Whenever I wish to kiss, it must be you.”