The Devil's Favourite Obsession

Her brow lifted slightly. ”That is bold,” she mused, swirling the liquid in her glass. ”Knowing who I am.”

Cassian lifted his whiskey from the table. Instead of looking at her, he studied the amber liquid sloshing against the ice. ”I know what you want me to know.”

”You look curious,” Wasabi hummed, observing closely for any shift in his expression. ”Is that what brought you to the specific terrace table I reserved for the entire year?”

Cassian took a slow sip of the burning liquor. His dark eyes lowered to her pink drink. ”Curiosity kills things.”

Her red lips curled into a brilliant smile. ”Yes,” she agreed, her voice dropping into a deadly purr. ”Usually men!” She took another sip of her drink, leaning back against the white leather. ”And right now, you are the man who almost died. Not once, but Twice!” she giggled, unable to hold back her dark amusement. ”Are you truly as dangerous as your bloody reputation... or just well-advertised?”

Cassian set his glass down on the table with purposeful calmness. His predatory gaze was now locked onto Lady Wasabi. ”It is interesting,” he observed, ”that you find attempts on my life entertaining.”

Her soft brown eyes met his darkened stare with equal intensity. ”And what is wrong with that?”

She took another slow sip while her attention drifted deliberately toward the man standing on her left. Her eyes travelled over him with appreciation.

She had excellent taste in men, she noted with sheer satisfaction. Justin was designed to absolute perfection.

”You are not as invincible as you used to be... You Weak Human!” Wasabi stated fearlessly. Her eyes remained fixed on Justin’s jawline as she abruptly derailed the mafia conversation. ”How do you find my men?”

Then, as though remembering Cassian existed again, she tilted her head slightly, her perfect brows lifting as she waited for Cassian to reply.

Cassian hardly reacted to the bizarre shift in topic, knowing her reputation all too well.

Madam Wasabi collected beautiful, expensive items. She was allergic to imperfection. The very word ’cheap’ acted like corrosive acid against her delicate ears.

”I don’t recall my sexual preference ever shifting toward men,” Cassian replied coldly. ”Ask your gay friends to confirm.”

”I am certain my Body-Guards would gladly change their orientation for you.”

She giggled darkly at the thought of picturing Cassian with other men. His hands were bound, growing hot against the sting of the whip wielded by Justin.

As if understanding her dark amusement, Cassian broke her train of thought. ”That would be a severe tragedy for you,” Cassian deadpanned. He leaned back against the leather couch and drew a long breath from his cigar.

”I would only need to utter a single command, and they would slit your throat while you sleep. And they would do it – for me.”

Wasabi’s smile vanished. The dark humour drained from her features. ”Why are you sitting at my table?” She was done being good to him.

Cassian finished his whiskey in a single swallow and slammed the heavy crystal glass onto the low table. ”I have destroyed entire cartels looking for the people who hired assassins against me... And. I. Am. Still . Looking. For. Them.” He lowered his voice into a dangerous growl, stressing his final words directly at her.

”As I said before,” she returned coolly, ”you have become pathetic.” Her tone carried disappointment rather than fear. ”You are no longer worthy of carrying the title of Devil. At this point, you are beginning to look like an insult to the name.”

A smirk curled on Cassian’s lips. ”I seem to remember,” he replied after a quiet moment, ”that you once found it very enjoyable to kneel before the Devil you are currently criticising.”

”He lost that charm,” she forced a smile at Cassian, ”the moment he was found bleeding on the road to hell–– Twice!”

Cassian leaned forward then, resting his elbows upon his knees. ”That brings me to something I have been meaning to ask,” he said calmly. ”Was it you?”

Wasabi’s perfectly shaped brow lifted in theatrical confusion.

Cassian did not repeat the question. He simply looked at her the way men look at answers they already intend to extract.

”If it had been me,” she finally answered, leaning forward just enough for the movement to feel intimate rather than cautious, ”you would never have found even a shadow of proof.”

Cassian slowly sat back. He stretched his arms wide across the back of the white couch, spreading his massive frame to dominate the space like a king. It was a declaration.

”If I were you, I would begin praying.” His voice cooled the air. ”Pray to whatever Devil you currently believe in that I find those bastards soon. Cause if I don’t, your days are numbered, Kitty?”

One corner of Wasabi’s dark red mouth lifted. ”You should concern yourself with your own present first, Devil Crown. At the moment, yours looks far more fragile than anyone else’s in this city.” Her gaze lingered. ”I still have plenty of time left to worry about mine.”

Right in the middle of their standoff, the screen of Cassian’s phone lit up against the glass table.

Both of them stared at the bright notification. The caller ID simply read––Vampiress.

Instead of continuing his deadly threat against Wasabi, Cassian reached forward, grabbed the device, and unlocked the screen.

Wasabi narrowed her brown eyes in deep suspicion. Cassian usually never received any calls during business hours, let alone interrupted a violent confrontation to check a trivial text message.

Ignoring Wasabi’s burning stare, Cassian opened the message.

”I am saving your number under Emergency Contact for our fake wedding.

Yours,

BiteLover.

(Don’t let anyone touch what has already been marked)”

Cassian stared at the message far longer than he should have.

”Is this your new contracted woman?” he heard Wasabi ask him.

Rather than responding, he got up from the couch and dialled Mark’s number.

”Get me the names,” Cassian commanded, walking away to confront Mark about the deception surrounding his fake fiancée.