Bound By A Broken Night novel Chapter 95

Chapter 95

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The tension around the table thickened, coiling tightly in the air as all eyes shifted toward Ashton, waiting -almost daring–for his reaction.

Mirriam and Rima exchanged a loaded glance, a silent understanding passing between them before identical sneers curved their lips.

“Sister,” Mirriam drawled, her voice dripping with mock concern, “you really can’t stop flirting with Ashton -even in front of your husband and your father–in–law?”

She paused deliberately, letting the accusation sink in before pressing on, clearly enjoying the attention she had stirred.

“I honestly don’t know how much longer I can defend your shamelessness, Cassidy,” Rima chimed in, shaking her head as if deeply wounded.

Her hand pressed to her chest, her expression a perfect imitation of disappointment and heartbreak.

“Can you at least stop disgracing us? Even if you’re no longer under our roof, people still associate you with this family. Please–have some respect for us.”

Cassie slowly turned to look at the two women, their performance so transparent it almost bored her. She couldn’t help it–her eyes rolled upward before she even realized it.

“Cassidy.”

Red’s voice cut through the murmurs like a blade. He glared at her, jaw clenched, teeth grinding as he spoke.

“Show some respect to CEO Wallace and CEO Holt.”

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The reprimand hung heavily in the air, pressing down on Cassie as the table fell into a brittle, expectant

silence.

Cassie turned her gaze to Jefferson. As expected, he was already watching her. But she felt no obligation to placate him, nor any urge to offer an explanation. The look in his eyes wasn’t accusatory–it was pure bewilderment, as if he were trying to decide whether she was reckless… or brilliant.

“Well,” she said lightly, breaking the silence, “I am shameless. If I can have them both, why should I choose just one?”

She shrugged, the gesture careless, almost playful. A sweet smile bloomed on her lips as she turned it toward Rima and Mirriam–saccharine and deliberate–before letting it slide lazily to her father.

“Why, you-!” Red’s face burned red with fury, his fist clenched so tightly his knuckles blanched. Beside him, Rima and Mirriam glared daggers at Cassie, their civility cracking at the seams.

Cassie, however, stayed perfectly composed, unfazed, as if the outrage surrounding her were little more than background noise.

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Then-

“Hahaha.”

Jefferson’s laughter sliced cleanly through the oppressive tension.

Heads turned. Even guests from nearby tables glanced over, curiosity sparked by the rare sound of amusement from CEO Holt himself.

“I’ve always found you… interestingly bizarre, Cassidy Greene,” Jefferson said, shaking his head as he reached calmly for his cutlery, as though nothing extraordinary had just happened.

“You never cease to amaze me.”

“It’s always my pleasure to entertain you, CEO Holt,” Cassie replied smoothly, a slow smirk carving itself onto her lips.

Around the table, jaws dropped.

No one–no one–had expected CEO Holt to indulge Cassidy, much less encourage her.

Cassie turned to Rima and Mirriam, a taunting, victorious smile playing on her lips–subtle yet unmistakable. It was the kind of smile that lingered just long enough to remind them who had won this round.

The remainder of dinner dragged on in an awkward, brittle silence. Conversations felt forced, laughter hollow. The moment Rima and Mirriam found a chance, they excused themselves and left the table, their departure stiff and hurried.

Red soon followed, drawing Jefferson away to greet a cluster of associates, eager to capitalize on the CEO’s presence. In the end, Cassie was left seated between Ashton and Zandrie, the noise of the banquet swelling around them.

“Excuse me,” she said lightly as she rose, already stepping back from her chair before the two men could

react.

“I’ll just refresh myself.” She didn’t wait for a response.

Cassie walked away, heels clicking softly against the floor, her composure intact–but only on the surface. Her social battery was dangerously low, drained by the scrutiny, the performances, and the constant undercurrent of hostility. She needed quiet. Space. Somewhere she could breathe and gather

her thoughts.

Even after six long years–and despite everything she had achieved–she was still Cassidy at her core. The woman who preferred solitude to crowds, silence to shallow pleasantries. The grandeur, the forced smiles, the endless pretending–it all weighed heavily on her, threatening to swallow her whole.