[BL] Bound to My Enemy: The Billionaire Who Took My Girl-Chapter 66: Unwelcome surprise

NOAH

The air in Cyan’s office was already thin from the sheer absurdity of the décor, but the tension between Cassian and the pink-haired whirlwind was what really made it hard to breathe. Cassian looked at his watch, a flicker of genuine annoyance crossing his face as Cyan continued to hang off his arm like a designer accessory.

"Fine," Cassian sighed, the sound heavy with a resignation I’d never heard from him before. "Thirty minutes. We eat, and then we leave."

The "meal" was a blur of high-end Thai takeout and Cyan’s non-stop narration. He sat pressed against Cassian’s side on the velvet sofa, picking at spicy noodles while regaling us with stories of "disaster clients", apparently, a German countess had once tried to pay for a bespoke suit with a cursed emerald.

Cassian was mostly silent, but it wasn’t the cold, predatory silence he usually directed at me. It was a weary, familiar silence. Occasionally, he’d throw out a dry remark, "She didn’t try to pay you in emeralds, Cyan, you just wanted her ring", that would send Cyan into a fit of giggles.

I sat across from them, poking at my pad thai, feeling like a ghost at a dinner party. Every time Cyan touched Cassian casually, a hand on his forearm, leaning in so close their shoulders rubbed, or that final, lingering peck on the cheek, my stomach did a violent, uncomfortable somersault.

He’s a good kisser.

The words were stuck in my brain like a piece of glass. I watched the way Cassian didn’t flinch when Cyan moved into his personal space. I watched the ease of their history. They had an intimacy that I, the "lowly assistant," could never touch. It made me feel small. It made me feel like the "pretty, helpless type" Cyan had joked about.

Before we left, Cyan refused to let me walk out empty-handed. "These are gifts, Noah! You looked absolutely scrumptious in them, and I won’t have my hard work go to waste."

"Cyan, I can’t possibly accept, "

"Shush!" He pressed three high-end garment bags into my arms with a wink that felt like a secret code I couldn’t crack. "You’re a cutie. Come visit me again. We’ll have even more fun when Cassie isn’t being such a buzzkill."

As we walked out, Cyan threw his arms around Cassian’s neck one last time. He whispered something in Cassian’s ear, something private that made Cassian nod once, his expression unreadable but focused. Then, Cyan turned to me, pinched my cheek hard enough to sting, and blew kisses until the elevator doors shut.

My face was still burning by the time we reached the car.

The drive back to the hotel was a masterclass in suffocating silence. I sat in the backseat, buried under layers of expensive wool and silk garment bags. Up front, Cassian was already back in "Wolf" mode. The soft edges he’d shown around Cyan had vanished, replaced by the rhythmic tapping of his thumbs on his phone as he tore through work emails.

The silence stretched between us like a rubber band pulled to its breaking point. I kept replaying Cyan’s voice in my head. He’s a good kisser. Did Cassian look at Cyan the way he looked at me? Did he pin him against walls and make his heart stop with a single glance?

The knot in my chest tightened. I didn’t want to call it jealousy. I wanted to call it "professional concern" or "moral distaste," but lying to myself was getting harder by the second.

"You didn’t have to accept all those suits," Cassian said suddenly. He didn’t look back. His voice was flat, echoing through the quiet car.

"He insisted," I said, my voice coming out more defensive than I intended. "I didn’t want to be rude to your... friend."

"Cyan doesn’t understand the word ’no,’" Cassian replied. There was a long pause, the city lights flickering across the rearview mirror. "Don’t take everything he says seriously, Noah. He talks to hear the sound of his own voice."

Does that include the kiss? The question was right there, on the tip of my tongue, heavy and dangerous. I wanted to ask what they were to each other. I wanted to ask if I was just a placeholder for a specific "type" he liked to break. But the words stuck in my throat, choked by the sheer power dynamic between us.

When we reached the suite, Cassian didn’t even look at me. He walked straight to his room, the door clicking shut with a finality that felt like a slap.

I stood in the middle of the living room, surrounded by bags of luxury clothes I hadn’t earned, feeling weirdly, inexplicably hollow.

The next three days were a slow-motion descent into isolation.

The pattern was identical every morning. I’d wake up late, my body still heavy with the stress of the past week, to find the suite empty. No Cassian. Just a series of cold, impersonal notes left on the marble kitchen island.

"Meetings all morning. Review the structural reports for Phase 3."

"Be ready by 2 PM. We are meeting the local council."

"Handle these documents. Do not contact me unless it is an emergency."

He was back to being the Boss. The man who had held me on the couch and smelled of sandalwood and danger was gone, replaced by a ghost in a three-piece suit who seemed to find my very existence a chore. I felt like I was being shoved back into a box, and for some reason, the walls of that box felt narrower than they used to.

On the fourth day, I arrived at the construction site for a final pre-gala inspection. I expected the usual: Cassian looking terrifying, Alex looking "angelic," and a lot of dust.

What I didn’t expect was a splash of electric blue in the middle of the grey concrete.

Cyan was there.

He was dressed in a shirt that shouldn’t have been legal, electric blue with silver embroidery, and he was practically vibrating with energy. He was glued to Cassian’s side, his hand resting on Cassian’s shoulder as they looked over a set of blueprints.

Cassian looked completely unfazed by the human sugar-rush attached to him. He was tolerating the physical contact with a stoic expression that made my blood boil.

I stood by the entrance, clutching my tablet, feeling a sudden, sharp urge to turn around and walk into the sea. I’d hoped the boutique visit was a one-time fever dream. Seeing him here, in our workspace, made me feel like an intruder in my own life.

"Noah!"

Alex spotted me first. He waved, a genuine smile breaking across his face as he started heading toward me. I waved back awkwardly, trying to look busy, but it was too late. Cyan’s head whipped around, his eyes lighting up like a predator who’d spotted a particularly shiny toy.

"Oh! Cupcake!"

Cyan pushed past Alex without a second thought, his boots clattering on the metal walkway. This, of course, alerted Cassian. He turned, his gaze meeting mine for a brief, searing second. His expression was a fortress, unreadable, cold, and entirely too calm.

Cyan didn’t quite jump on me, but it was a near thing. He wrapped me in a tight, floral-scented hug. "I’ve missed you! You look so drab today, Noah! Where is the midnight blue? We have to work on your off-duty style."

"I’m... at work, Cyan," I laughed nervously, trying to pry his arms off. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you mean?" Cyan chirped, looping his arm through mine. "Of course I’m here! My baby Cassie is working, and I’m here to cheer him on! I’m his emotional support peacock!"

"Oh. That’s... nice," I said, my voice sounding strained.

Alex finally reached us, his expression shifting into something guarded. "Noah, good to see you. I was hoping we could finish our conversation from the other night."

Cyan’s smile stayed in place, but his eyes turned ice-cold. "Alex. Always hovering where you’re not needed. Don’t you have a board meeting to bore someone with?"

Alex didn’t blink. He matched the energy perfectly. "Cyan. Still clinging to people like a barnacle, I see. I’m surprised you haven’t suffocated Cassian yet."

"Cassie likes the way I cling," Cyan purred, tightening his grip on my arm. "Don’t you, Cassie?"

Cassian didn’t even look over. "Stop talking, both of you."

Before I could process the weirdly personal animosity between the two CEOs, Cyan was already dragging me away. I glanced back at Alex, who was watching me with a look that was somewhere between pity and concern. I just shrugged and let myself be pulled along. I didn’t have the energy to fight a man who wore electric blue.