His Forbidden Plus-One

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Underneath the long dining table, a custom men's Oxford shoe rubbed heavily against my calf with unapologetic aggression. At this billionaire family dinner, I was nothing more than my sister's burdensome plus-one. I jerked my head up, my gaze locking onto Cassianthe absolute ruler of the empire.

Something to say? His expression was completely flat, as if he hadn't just crossed a massive line.

Heat rushed to my cheeks. "Cassian you're stepping on my foot."

He held my gaze, a completely unapologetic smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "My apologies."

But a second later, the foot under the table pressed down even harder, completely trapping my white sneaker.

Chapter 1

It was the family matriarchs birthday dinner. The man in charge, Cassian, arrived fashionably late due to a delayed flight. Around the massive table, everyone harbored their own hidden agendas, save for the warmly smiling grandmother.

This family was powerful, wealthy, and full of vipers. Yet, every single one of them was terrified of Cassian. He was ruthless, calculating, and cold to the bone. Even blood relatives would lose a layer of skin if they crossed him.

Under his absolute control for less than three years, the family empire had secured the top spot in the entire region. Aside from the matriarch, everyone in this sprawling mansion breathed only when he allowed it.

The atmosphere in the dining room was suffocating. As an outsider just here for the free meal, I kept my head down, desperately trying to shrink into the upholstery. When I reached for another serving, my sisterwho had married into the family as the eldest daughter-in-lawnudged me sharply under the table. A silent warning to behave, to look the part.

I obediently slowed down, chewing my food with painful precision.

By pure accident, my eyes flicked up and collided with Cassian's just as he took a sip of his soup. Those pitch-black, freezing eyes sent a jolt of pure panic straight to my chest. I quickly looked away, my pulse spiking. It wasn't just his family who feared him; I was terrified of him, too.

For the rest of the meal, I kept my chin practically glued to my chest. He was sitting directly across from me, radiating an invisible, crushing pressure that made every second feel like torture.

I wasn't even supposed to sit here. But right as we were taking our seats, Cassian had casually pointed a finger in my direction.

"I remember Cressida really likes the Lobster Thermidor. Let her sit there."

His voice carried that effortless authority of a billionaire used to giving orders. So, I was placed right in the line of fire.

At these family dinners, no one dared to leave the table until the matriarch and Cassian stood up. I was nervously playing with the lobster meat on my plate with my silver fork. Under the table, a long, powerful leg forcefully parted my thighs, his burning knee pressing directly up against me.

My fingers froze around the fork. I stopped breathing for a second.

Instinctively, I pulled my legs back, trying to tuck them safely under my chair. But the pressure followed. The leg shifted, invading my space again.

That was when the horrifying realization hit methis wasn't an accident. It was deliberate.

I had retreated as far as I physically could, but his long leg just kept pushing, closing the distance, claiming my space. I risked a downward glance. Seeing that custom black leather Oxford pressing intimately against my leg, my head snapped up.

I stared in absolute horror at Cassian, who looked completely bored across the table. The angle. The shoe. It could only be him.

A sick prank? A warning? A proposition?

My mind spun with a dozen chaotic possibilities. A rush of static buzzed right beneath my scalp.

Cassian slowly lifted his gaze. He met my panicked stare. His eyes were like dark, bottomless watercompletely unreadable and endlessly dangerous.

He leaned back slightly. "Cressida," he murmured, his voice infuriatingly calm. "You keep staring at me. Do you have something to say?"

The moment the words left his mouth, a dozen pairs of eyes zeroed in on me. Under the crushing weight of their stares, my face burned furiously. There were things you could say at this table, and things that would ruin you.

My lips parted, but my throat felt completely dry. Finally, I forced the words out. "Cassian you you're stepping on my foot."

Complete silence fell over the dining room. Expressions of sheer shock rippled across the table. None of them had expected that. It was bizarre, incredibly awkward, and to a few, faintly amusing.

Cassian absorbed my little accusation without a flinch. A low, soft chuckle vibrated in his chest. "My apologies."

The man was flawlessly attractive. His jawline was sharp enough to cut glass, his proportions practically sculpted to a golden ratio. It was the kind of face that forced people to stop and stare. But his aura was pure, biting winteran endless, freezing abyss.

The sheer dominance rolling off him made it impossible to hold his gaze for more than a few seconds. And that smile? It was stunning. It was also absolutely terrifying.

I sat completely frozen, staring at him like a deer caught in high beams, utterly incapable of forming a response.

My sister quickly jumped in, desperate to shatter the agonizing tension. "Cressida is still young," she said with a strained laugh. "She doesn't quite understand the rules yet. Please forgive her lack of manners, Cassian."

No one at the table knew the truth.

Chapter 2

The very second Cassian offered his apology, the heavy leather of his Oxford shifted under the table, pressing down on my white sneaker. It wasn't bone-crushing, but the weight was absolutean undeniable, predatory invasion of my space that left no room for retreat.

That single, calculated touch sent a massive shockwave through my system. White noise flooded my ears. I froze, my muscles locking up completely.

The matriarch chuckled softly. "Let Cassian buy you a new pair of shoes later, dear. If you see something you like, just tell him. Don't be shy."

Cassian didn't miss a beat. "Of course."

I waved my hands frantically, my palms slick with cold sweat. "That's really not necessary, Cassian."

His dark eyes pinned me down, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. "Don't be shy with me, Cressida."

I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste copper, lowering my gaze to my plate. "Thank you, Cassian."

The suffocating weight on my foot finally vanished, but a heavy stone of dread settled high in my chest. It swung back and forth, counting down the seconds.

The dinner finally dragged to an end. In the sprawling lounge area of the great hall, the air grew thick with the scent of premium cigars. Servers in crisp uniforms wove through the crowd with trays of champagne, while the older generation gathered around tables for high-stakes bridge.

The matriarch was surrounded by a swarm of grandchildren, all vying for her attention and favor. Seeing me standing rigidly by the wall, my sister grabbed my arm and pulled me aside, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper.

"If you can't breathe in here, go take a walk in the gardens and come back. Tonight is important. We can't leave early. Don't disappear for too long, though."

"Make sure you come back to wish the matriarch a good night before she retires." She squeezed my hand with a look of desperate affection. "Got it?"

I gave a stiff nod.

Being the eldest daughter-in-law in this billionaire dynasty was a waking nightmare for her. My brother-in-law was the product of his father's pre-marital affair. Below him were four other brothers and two sisters. Aside from Cassian's mother, who was the legally wedded wife, the mothers of the other siblings were just a string of glorified mistresses.

Cassian barely tolerated my brother-in-law out of a thin shred of basic courtesy. As for the rest of his half-siblings? He treated them like dust on his expensive shoes.

My sister was dragged away to socialize with the other wives, leaving me to fend for myself in this snake pit.

I shot her a reassuring look and slipped out of the stifling room. Since I was eight, it had just been the two of us against the world. Ten years older, she was practically my mother. I stayed in dorms during the semester and crashed at her place during breaks.

But a dynasty like this ran on iron-clad traditions. Every holiday, she was summoned back to the main estate. The matriarch, taking pity on me being left alone, issued a standing order for me to tag along. I hated every second of it, but to save my sister from any backlash, I always showed up.

Slipping away from the main crowd, I headed toward the quieter wing of the estate. But there, standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, was Cassian. His broad back was turned to me as he spoke into his phone.

I held my breath, trying to ghost past him through the side corridor.

The second my sneaker scuffed the marble, he spun around. He ended the call, his icy gaze pinning me to the spot. "Drink with me," he demanded softly.

My throat seized up. Trapped beneath the weight of those pitch-black eyes, I could only force out a weak, "Okay."

I used to follow him around when I was younger, too naive to understand who he really was. Back then, I was foolish enough to beg him for imported treats whenever he visited. But as I grew older, I finally understood the terrifying reality of his world. I never dared to ask him for a single thing again.

The private bar area at the end of the hall was bathed in dim, amber light. Cassian stood before the towering liquor cabinet. His long, elegant fingers gripped a crystal decanter, pouring two glasses of single malt whiskey.

The ice clinked against the heavy glass, the sharp sound echoing in the suffocating silence. He lowered his gaze, every single one of his movements dripping with the lazy, dangerous grace of an apex predator.

Sitting rigidly on the leather barstool across from him, my pulse hammered against my ribs.

The phantom heat of his leg pressing against mine under the dining table still burned into my skin. I had no idea what his endgame was. Cassian didn't play practical jokes. He didn't do accidents.

And that was exactly what terrified me the most.

Chapter 3

"Take a sip." Cassian slid the rocks glass of whiskey across the bar toward me, beads of condensation weeping down the frozen crystal.

I wrapped my trembling fingers around the heavy glass, taking a slow, burning swallow. My mind was spinning, making every second drag out. Cassian's heavy gaze never left my skin, raking over me until all the fine hairs on my arms stood on end.

When I finally finished the amber liquid, he reached for the bottle again. This time, before he could offer it, I reached out to take it myself.

But Cassian picked up the very glass of whiskey I had just drunk from. His pitch-black eyes locked onto mine as his thin lips pressed precisely against the faint lipstick mark I had left on the rim, tilting his head back to down the rest.

My stomach dropped into my shoes. It took everything in me not to let my jaw fall open. We were the only two people in this dim corner.

The glasses might look identical, but the placement was entirely different. There was absolutely zero chance he grabbed the wrong one by accident.

As he swallowed the liquor, those dark predator eyes stayed pinned to my face. The raw, unfiltered intent burning in his gaze confirmed my most terrifying suspicion.

He wanted me.

My heart hammered frantically against my ribs, desperate to escape. My brain short-circuited, completely unable to process how to survive this.

Right at that suffocating second, my phone buzzed violently on the marble countertop.

[Preston]

Cassians gaze swept lazily over the glowing screen. "Your useless fianc, who still lives off his family trust fund, is calling," he murmured softly.

I snatched up the phone, desperate for an escape route. "Cassian, I'll step out to take this."

He stared at me, an absolute, undeniable refusal chilling his eyes. A devastating smile curved his lips. "Answer it here."

My family had fallen from grace years ago. And because of that, Preston always treated me less like a fiance and more like a servant. The second the line connected, his arrogant, demanding voice barked through the speaker.

"Cressida, why the hell aren't you replying to my texts?" he snapped. "Who gave you permission to tell Lexi you're my fiance? Do you really think you're that important"

I jabbed the red button, cutting off the call before he could spew any more toxic garbage. The grating, obnoxious noise vanished instantly.

Five seconds later, Preston called back. I declined it.

He dialed again. The screen lit up in a relentless, furious rhythm, exposing his absolute pathetic meltdown. I just flipped the phone onto silent.

The scent of sharp alcohol hung in the air. The room fell into a suffocating silence. Cassians gaze was unreadable, his expression completely flat.

No mockery. No contempt. Just the rhythmic tap, tap, tap of his knuckles against the marble bar.

Trapped in that heavy silence, holding his stare made my skin burn with humiliating heat. Desperate for a distraction, I hurriedly grabbed my glass to take another sip of whiskey.

Without warning, Cassian dropped a nuclear bomb. "Are you planning to just sweep the fact that you slept with me under the rug?"

The liquor caught in my throat. I choked, the burn searing all the way down to my lungs. Hacking violently, I stared at Cassian in absolute, unadulterated horror.

A memory I had violently repressed clawed its way to the front of my mind.

Half a month ago. After getting spiked at Prestons birthday party, I had stumbled blindly out of the VIP club. Running purely on survival instinct, I caught sight of a familiar broad back and scrambled into the back seat of his waiting SUV.

I had gripped the man's arm with bruised knuckles, begging him to help me.

Inside the tinted confines of the car, driven insane by the drugs and my own desperate clinging, the mans large handweighed down by a heavy watchclamped over my nape. The sudden, freezing touch of the metal sent a violent shiver down my spine. Unable to stop myself, I had arched up, practically rubbing against him.

He had pinned my thrashing limbs down, growling something low and dark that I couldn't understand. The heat searing through my veins felt like acid, tearing a broken sob from my throat.

Finally, cursing under his breath with devastating restraint, he ripped off his tie with his long fingers and used the most primal method to relieve that torturous heat.

His self-control was terrifying. Even fully aroused in that claustrophobic space, he locked down his most basic instincts. He coldly pulled out his phone and ordered his private doctor to meet us.

Through the hazy, feverish blur, I just remembered refusing to let him go. I kept my arms locked around him, thrashing and crying against his solid chest until dawn.

Chapter 4

I had woken up much later in a completely unfamiliar master bedroom. Listening to the sound of the running shower washing over his tense muscles in the bathroom, I grabbed my tangled clothes off the floor and, dragging my aching body, bolted like a thief in the night.

I never, in a million years, would have guessed that the man was Cassian!

Even though the memory was fragmented and blurred by the drugs, I knew for an absolute fact that we hadn't gone all the way. How could he say I slept with him? The most intimate thing that happened was just

My eyes darted involuntarily to Cassian's long, elegant fingers resting on the marble bar. Heat rushed to my face in an instant, practically steaming my skin.

"Don't remember?"

"Refuse to admit it?"

"Or do you need me to jog your memory?"

Watching my frozen silence, Cassian slowly dropped those three sentences, perfectly blocking every single avenue I had to play dumb.

Blind panic clawed at my throat.

He was giving me zero room to maneuver. He was forcing me to show my hand. The second he dragged this into the light, it meant he wouldn't let me run away.

A memory of playing chess with Cassian when I was a kid suddenly flashed in my mind. Right now, it felt like I was back on that board, completely oblivious to the fact that he had already surrounded me with hidden traps, cutting off every escape route. And Cassian was just lazily holding the final piece, waiting to strike the lethal blow.

Cassian and I were impossible.

In terms of status, I wasn't even on the same planet. His future wife would absolutely have to be from an equally powerful dynasty. The matriarch had been ruthlessly vetting potential brides for years, picking apart their pedigrees.

I highly doubted Cassian viewed me with some sort of equal affection. More likely, that chaotic night had just sparked his interest. He probably just wanted me as a mistress. These kinds of twisted, transactional affairs were dirt common in their elite circles, and the line of people desperate to warm Cassian's bed stretched around the block.

But I would never do it.

My eyelashes fluttered wildly. My heart rate refused to drop, slamming against my ribs like a trapped bird. Trapped under Cassian's pitch-black stare, I stammered, "I I"

I was never this tongue-tied around anyone else. But this was Cassian. The man who terrified me, who commanded absolute respect, who had watched me grow up. Never in my wildest nightmares did I think we would end up tangled in this kind of mess.

Gathering every ounce of courage I had left, I bowed my head in desperate sincerity. I blurted it out in one breath: "Thank you for saving me, Cassian."

I figured that sentence, though indirect, made my stance crystal clear. I was thanking him for saving my life.

That was it. Just gratitude. It could only ever be gratitude.

I kept my chin tucked down, my eyes frantically tracing the veins in the marble countertop.

Cassian didn't say a word.

The heat from the whiskey seemed to freeze in the air. My heart sank, inch by agonizing inch.

"Look at me." His voice cut through the suffocating silence, flat and cold.

I slowly forced my head up. My eyes collided with Cassian's.

It was terrifyingly obvious. He was pissed.

Chapter 5