Chapter 376

Chapter 368
Gemma’s POV
The private room is already tense as the dishes arrive, and when the door swings open again, my heart sinks before my brain even processes the figure in the doorway.
Cassian.
A wave of fatigue washes over me. Why is he everywhere? Is there a tracker on me I haven’t discovered yet?
nd shakes his
Except for me and Mikhail, who just sigh head, the others react with varying degrees of surprise.
“Mr. Blackwell!” Gavin exclaims. “What brings you here?”
Cassian’s gaze sweeps over William and then lands heavily on me before he answers.
“Dinner plans! But I heard Mr. Voloshin, Liam and Gavin were here and thought I’d say hello.”
As if on cue, a waiter enters with several bottles of 1/7
09:08
< Chapter 368 & +2 Boi expensive–looking white wine. This restaurant’s white wine is quite celebrated,” Cassian continues, his tone casually dripping with a wealth that intends to dominate. “Please, put tonight’s entire tab on my account.” William’s expression remains politely blank, but Mikhail doesn’t bother to hide his contempt. “Pretentious!” He mutters, just loud enough to hear. Liam, looking like a man watching a train wreck in slow motion, signals for a waiter to bring another chair. As if the drama wasn’t enough for one lifetime, the door apens again. 09:08 < Chapter 368 “Cassian!” ++ 2 Bonu Reyna’s voice, bright and hopeful, rings out. I freeze. The last time I saw her, she was breaking up with Rhett in a restaurant. Is this her next move? To associate herself with Cassian again? Liam looks like he wants to crawl under the table. If Cassian’s goal was to win me back, bringing Reyna is a spectacular act of self–sabotage. Cassian doesn’t acknowledge her call. He just turns his head slightly, a muscle ticking in his jaw. Reyna hovers in the doorway, unsure whether to advance or retreat, her smile stiffening into an awkward mask. Mikhail breaks the painful silence. “Well, we’ve had quite a few late additions. One more thing hardly matters. She’s Mr. Blackwell’s… friend, after all. Waiter, another chair.” Reyna’s face brightens with relief. She beelines for the space next to Cassian. “There’s no room here. ” 3/7 09:08 < Chapter 368 ++2 B Cassian’s voice is flat, like a door slamming shut. Reyna freezes, her eyes instantly glistening with unshed tears. “She can sit here,” Mikhail offers smoothly, shifting his own chair to make space next to him, while inadvertently placing himself closer to me. “Plenty of room.” Cassian watches this with annoyance. Then, in a move of breathtaking audacity, he simply stands, picks up his chair, and places it down squarely between Mikhail and me. The legs scrape harshly against the floor. I flinch, the sound and the sudden proximity jarring. The familiar, clean scent of his cologne envps me, and I have to force myself to look away from. A stunned silence falls over the table, Only Gavin, blissfully oblivious, tries to help. “Mr. Blackwell, there’s actually more space over here if you’d be more comfort-‘ “Blackwell Industries and Dream International are partners,” Cassian interrupts, his smile tight. “It’s only efficient for Mr. Voloshin and me to sit closer for discussion.” Mikhail rolls his eyes so hard I’m surprised they don 9:08 99 < Chapter 368 stick. I don’t trust you, his expression screams. +2 Bonus I can’t breathe with Cassian this close. Acting on pure instinct, I pick up my own chair and move it several inches away, placing myself squarely next to William instead. Cassian’s eyes flash. He looks like he wants to physically split himself in two to bracket me, to cut off any male contact. Reyna, relegated to the seat beside Mikhail, pouts but is still within leaning distance of Cassian. She simply ignores Mikhail and addresses Cassian directly, her voice a honeyed plea. “Cassian… about what happened before… are you still upset with me?” He frowns, but his eyes dart to me, watching for a reaction. The old script. In the past, any interaction between him and Reyna would have sent a spike of jealous anger through me. He’s testing the waters. I keep my face utterly neutral, picking up my soup spoon and taking a deliberate, calm sip. The broth is tasteless. Mikhail, enjoying the chaos, leans in. “What did appet,8