[BL] Bound to My Enemy: The Billionaire Who Took My Girl-Chapter 179: Unwanted guard

NOAH

His voice was low, intimate, as if the ten other people staring at us with wide eyes didn’t exist.

I was sweating. I could feel the dampness of my shirt against my back. "Yes," I croaked, staring intensely at a scratch on the table. "Very much. Thank you, sir."

"Good," he murmured, his eyes lingering on my mouth before he took another sip of his drink.

The next twenty minutes were the most awkward of my entire life. The group tried to perform normalcy, but it was like watching a play where everyone had forgotten their lines.

Mason brave put on a karaoke song, and the wailing of a heartbroken ballad provided a thin veil over the tension.

Cassian stayed. He didn’t leave. He sat there, drinking his beer, making the occasional dry, devastating comment about the singing that made me bite my lip to keep from laughing.

But it was the touching that was killing me.

It started small. His knee pressed harder against mine. Then, his hand moved, resting on the back of my chair. His fingers brushed the back of my neck, just a ghost of a touch, invisible to the others, but sending jolts of electricity straight down my spine.

Then, he reached down. His fingers found the soft skin of my side and gave a sharp, playful pinch.

I nearly jumped out of my skin, biting back a gasp. My face was on fire. I couldn’t look at him. I could feel the heat radiating off him, the sheer gravity of his presence pulling me in. I was a mess, flushed, overwhelmed, and increasingly desperate for oxygen.

"Bathroom," I managed to choke out, standing up before anyone could protest.

I didn’t look back. I knew Cassian was watching me. I knew he could see the way my shoulders were shaking. I walked through the bar, ignoring Mason’s confused look, and found a staff member near the back.

"Is there a back exit? An alley? I just need some air," I pleaded.

They pointed to a heavy metal door. I pushed through it, the cool night air hitting my face like a blessing. I leaned against the brick wall, tilting my head back and closing my eyes.

He came. He actually came. He’d told me he had a meeting. He’d ignored my text for hours. And then he’d shown up at a mid-tier karaoke bar in the middle of a Friday night. How did he even find me? Did he track my phone? Or did he just know?

I had exactly ninety seconds of peace before the door creaked open.

I hoped it was Cassian. I expected it to be Cassian.

It was not Cassian.

A man stumbled out, reeking of cheap lager and poor decisions. He spotted me and his eyes lit up with a dull, predatory gleam. "Hey," he said, stepping too close. "You come here alone?"

"No," I said, my voice flat. "I’m with people inside. I was just leaving."

I tried to move past him, but he stepped sideways, blocking the door. He reached out, his hand gripping my arm with a strength that was more annoying than frightening. "Don’t go yet. Come on, just talk to me."

"Let go," I said, my voice hardening.

"Don’t be like that," he slurred, pulling me closer. "I just want to—"

I felt the familiar spark of anger. I had been cornered twice tonight. I’d nearly had a panic attack. I’d been toyed with by my boss-not-boyfriend in front of my entire office.

I already had enough for the day and I was done being polite. I pulled my arm back, my fist curling. I was genuinely about to swing when something else moved.

A fist came from the side, clean, efficient, and devastatingly hard.

The man went down like a sack of flour, hitting the pavement with a dull thud. He didn’t get up.

I stood there, my own fist still raised, my heart hammering. I didn’t need to look to know who it was. The scent hit me first, that dark, expensive cologne, the smell of rain and power.

Cassian walked past me as if the man on the ground were a piece of litter. He didn’t even glance at me.

He bent down, grabbing the man by the collar and whispering something into his ear. I couldn’t hear the words, but I saw the man’s face go pale.

He nodded frantically, scrambled to his feet, and disappeared into the night as if the devil himself were chasing him.

I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

"Thank you," I said, my voice shaking with a mix of adrenaline and irritation. "But I had it."

Cassian didn’t respond. He pulled a cigarette from a silver case, lit it, and took a long drag. The orange glow of the cherry illuminated the sharp angles of his face.

"I was about to handle it," I snapped, stepping toward him. "I can take care of myself. I don’t need you to keep swooping in like I’m some kind of helpless—"

Cassian remained silent, the smoke curling upward into the dark sky. He wasn’t even looking at me.

"Are you listening to me?" I demanded. "You couldn’t even respond to my text all day, but you have time to play bodyguard in an alleyway?"

Nothing. Not a word.

I huffed, trying a different angle. "How did your meeting go? Was it productive? Did you get the—"

Cassian dropped the cigarette, crushing it beneath his heel. He moved toward me, closing the distance until I was forced back against the brick wall. He didn’t look at the alley. He looked at me.

"With a beautiful face like yours," he said, his voice a low, vibrating growl, "I’m sorry Noah but I can’t help being on guard."

My breath hitched. "That’s—we’re not—you don’t own me—Cassian."

"I don’t share," he said simply. It wasn’t a boast. It was a statement of fact, as immutable as gravity. "The intern. She was practically in your lap."

"She was drunk!" I protested. "It wasn’t like that. I wasn’t doing anything!"

"You might as well have buried your face in her tits," he said, his voice incredibly dry.

"THAT IS NOT—I wasn’t—nothing was HAPPENING—!"

I didn’t get to finish. Cassian leaned down, his hand catching my jaw and tilting my head back. He captured my mouth in a kiss that was firm, claiming, and utterly silent.