The week that followed was nothing short of a dream.
Cassian had gone full courtship mode.
Every morning, there was something on her desk—flowers, her favorite drink, handwritten notes filled with ridiculous metaphors and stolen inside jokes. He'd drop by to check on her under the guise of asking about reports, only to grin when she rolled her eyes. Every lunch, he made sure she ate. Every break, he managed to steal a moment with her—sometimes just a brush of his hand against hers, sometimes a kiss pressed against her cheek before anyone could see.
Everyone in the office had noticed. And no one was subtle.
"You guys are disgusting," Letty teased, walking past with a fresh coffee. "My bar for men is now Cassian Hayes with morning peonies. Thanks for ruining real-life expectations."
"We're not—" Sienna started, but gave up halfway through the sentence. Her protest was always met with the same response—knowing smirks, raised brows, and giggles she tried to ignore.
But truthfully? She was glowing.
And maybe a little in love.
—
After a site visit with another engineer, she got back to the office late in the afternoon, hair wind-blown and skin warm from the sun. She was still laughing about something one of the site workers had said when she stepped into the elevator.
But the moment she reached her floor, she noticed something off.
The air was... different.
People were quieter. Eyes flicked toward her, then away too quickly. There was a stiffness in the way Cindy looked up from her monitor, biting her lip.
Sienna paused.
"What happened?" she asked.
Cindy hesitated. "There's a woman in Cassian's office."
Sienna blinked. "Okay...?"
"She's been there a while."
She looked at Cassian's door. But... he doesn't have a meeting scheduled right now.
Then a strange chill ran down her spine. "Who?"
Cindy glanced toward the glass hallway, as if nervous. "I think you know her. Tall. Brunette."
Sienna felt her heart drop.
She did know her.
One of Cassian's old flings. A woman she had always seen visiting the office at lunch breaks.
Her hands tightened at her sides.
She didn't storm over. Didn't cause a scene. She simply walked back to her desk, sat down, and opened her laptop with a little more force than necessary.
A few minutes later, the woman left Cassian's office, heels clicking loudly. She didn't even glance in Sienna's direction.
But Cassian did.
His expression changed the second he saw her. He froze in the doorway.
"Sienna," he started, voice low, careful.
She didn't look up. Just kept typing.
"I can explain—"
"You don't have to."
"Sienna—"
She glanced up, eyes sharp. "Business meeting?"
His jaw tightened. "Yes."
She said nothing more.
There were no labels.
No rules.
But she couldn't stop the heat of jealousy clawing at her chest. Couldn't stop the sinking feeling that no matter how sincere he'd been—this part of him might never change.
So she turned back to her screen.
And pretended her heart wasn't splintering all over again.
Cassian tried again after a few minutes, stepping slowly toward her desk like approaching a wounded animal.
"Sienna, can we talk?" he asked, quieter this time.
She didn't even look at him. "Do you need something or any file?"
He hesitated. "No, I—"
"Then I have work to finish."
The finality in her tone stopped him cold.
He lingered, clearly debating whether to push, but in the end, he gave her space. Throughout the rest of the afternoon, he tried a few more times—small openings, checking on reports, brushing past her desk—but she kept it all strictly professional. Tight. Efficient. Cordial in the way strangers might be.
By the time the end-of-day chime rang from her computer, she had never felt more exhausted.
Not from work.
But from pretending.
She packed up her things without a word, refusing to even glance toward his office as she walked out the door.
The silence between them stretched into the next day.
He didn't text. She didn't message. And when she walked into the office, another bouquet was waiting for her.
She barely looked at it. A pristine arrangement of white lilies and soft blue hydrangeas, with another card tucked gently into the petals. She didn't open it.
Instead, she picked it up, turned on her heel, and walked straight over to Cindy's desk.
"Here," she said, placing the vase down. "It'll brighten up your corner."
Cindy blinked. "Sienna—"
"I don't want it."
Word spread quickly, as it always did. By lunch, she heard whispers from the break room. She paused at the corner when she caught her name.
"…I mean, he's Cassian Hayes. He's gorgeous, rich, and a thorough fuckboy. He'll never change. Not even for someone like her."
"Seriously. If even Sienna can't tame him? What chance does anyone have?"
The words sank deep.
By the time Cassian tried to talk to her again—gently calling her name as she passed his office—her restraint snapped.
"Don't," she said sharply. "Not here."
He opened his mouth again—one more attempt, something desperate flickering in his eyes—but the look she gave him was sharp enough to cut glass.
Cassian shut his mouth, jaw tense, and nodded once.
Then, wordlessly, he turned and walked back into his office, the door clicking shut behind him.