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Our gazes locked in a silent duel, the quiet between us stretching until it became almost deafening. It felt as though the entire restaurant had softened its hum, granting us an uneasy pocket of privacy.
“Aren’t you in a meeting, Mr. Pierce?” I finally asked, forcing the reminder past my tight throat when he remained standing in front of me far too long long enough to disturb what little peace I had left.
“Yes.” He flicked a brief glance toward the private room. Then, to my disbelief, he pulled out the chair across from me and sat down as if this were the most natural thing in the world.
My pulse spiked.
“When did you come back?” he asked once he’d settled.
“Just yesterday.” I gave a light shrug, though I couldn’t understand why my return seemed to matter to him at all.
“Are you staying for good?”
The question came with that piercing stare again–measured, intent, as though he were weighing every possible answer before I could even speak.
“No.” The word left me without hesitation. I didn’t look away.
“Why?” His jaw tightened, the word scraped out through clenched teeth.
The edge in his tone caught me off guard. It sounded almost accusatory. As if I owed him an explanation.
“I have nothing here,” I said evenly, surprised by the steadiness of my own voice as I met his gaze
head–on.
He fell silent, but his eyes never left me. It felt like being placed under a microscope–every expression, every breath examined with quiet intensity. I held myself together with practiced composure, though maintaining it was a quiet battle.
“Do the Knowles know you’ve come back?” he asked at last, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.
“I ran into your wife and your mother–in–law on the way here,” I replied with a casual shrug. “Wife?” His brows drew together, confusion flickering across his face.
I studied him for a moment, irritation pricking beneath my calm. I couldn’t tell what game he was playing, but the feigned confusion felt deliberate and unnecessary. I offered no clarification. If he was waiting for me to say Miriam’s name aloud, he could wait indefinitely.
Thankfully, a waiter arrived, breaking the tension.
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“Excuse me, Madame. CEO Pierce.”
“Please,” Ashton said with a small gesture, allowing the food to be set down while I remained silent.
When the waiter stepped away, I lifted my gaze again. “If you don’t mind, Mr. Pierce, I’d like to eat my lunch.”
“Eat well, Cassie,” he said lightly.
And yet he didn’t move.
I stared at my plate, exasperation creeping in. Had he truly missed the cue? Or was ignoring it entirely part of his intention?
Unless I sent him away bluntly, I had the distinct feeling he had no intention of leaving. He watched me as though time meant nothing to him, as though no one was waiting for him back in that private
room.
So despite his maddening presence, I ate. My stomach had begun to growl in protest long before, loud enough that I was certain it could be heard across the table.
Then he spoke again.
“Where have you been all these three years, Cassidy?”
My spoon froze halfway to my mouth.
Why was he so interested?
“I tried to look for you in Vermont City the morning after we met at the restaurant,” he continued, his voice low. “But you were already gone. You were… very good at hiding.”
I lowered my spoon slowly, my appetite evaporating as his words settled in.
“I had several business trips there afterward,” he went on calmly. “But I never ran into you again.‘
The air between us tightened.
I said nothing, watching him now with a guarded stillness, trying to understand why he was saying any of this at all.
“Our meeting in Vermont City was nothing more than a coincidence, Mr. Pierce,” I said after drawing in a steadying breath, forcing myself to be direct. “As far as I’m concerned, whatever thin thread once connected us was severed long ago. There’s no reason to complicate things now.”
I held his gaze, refusing to look away. “While I’m here, I don’t intend to cause any trouble- especially with Miriam Knowles.”
But even after mentioning his wife got me no reaction from him. Then something occurred to me. “Oh. You might actually be here for this.” I reached into my bag and pulled out a sleek card, sliding
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it across the table toward him.
“Here,” I said calmly. “I’ve doubled it. Consider it interest.”
He glanced at the card only briefly before lifting his eyes back to me, unreadable.
“Doubled?” He gave a faint shrug. “Then Vermont City really was good to you.”
He still didn’t touch the card.
I said nothing. I had no intention of lying, nor of explaining myself. Instead, I picked up my utensils again and continued eating, the clink of metal against porcelain filling the space between us.
“So,” he murmured after a moment, nodding slightly as if piecing together a private conclusion, leaving Bay City helped you.”
His tone was contemplative, almost distant.
I studied him, puzzled. He had more important matters waiting for him, but why was he still here- wasting his time on a boring conversation.
“Yes,” I answered at last, setting my fork down. “Leaving Bay City was the greatest decision I’ve ever made.”
My lips curved into a faint, bitter smile as I met his gaze without flinching.
“Leaving everything and everyone–behind freed me from a misery I carried for far too long.”
“Now,” I said with a dry snicker, “may I eat in peace?”
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Chapter 45
Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.

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