When Love Finds Its Way Back (Cassienne and Dreston) novel Chapter 144

Chapter One Hundred And Forty–Four: Strangers Getting Too Comfortable.

The noise inside the arena did not die down immediately after Cassienne stepped under the lights.

It grew.

It rolled from one end of the stadium to the other like thunder gathering strength.

The LED screens shifted from her close–up to a wide–angle shot of the entire arena. Thousands of spectators were on their feet. Glow sticks in black and silver flashed in synchronized rhythm. The crowd’s chant became unified.

“NULL–WRAITH! NULL–WRAITH!”

She was escorted to a special elevated VIP glass pod overlooking the stage. It wasn’t the players‘ pod, she wasn’t competing, but it allowed cameras to capture her reactions throughout the game.

The match countdown began.

Two local professional teams prepared for a best–of–three tactical arena match–high–speed, strategy- heavy, no random mechanics. A game of intelligence and precision.

The arena lights dimmed slightly as the digital battlefield illuminated the screens.

“Three… Two… One… Match Start!”

The game opened aggressively. One team launched a flanking maneuver almost instantly, splitting their formation to pressure both sides of the map.

The commentators were alive.

“And they’re not wasting time tonight!”

“Oh, that’s risky, very risky, but it might pay off!”

The first elimination came within ninety seconds.

The crowd gasped.

From her glass pod, Cassienne leaned slightly forward, elbows resting on the rail. She wasn’t smiling now. She was studying.

She saw patterns. Weak rotations. And overextended pushes. A defensive formation that lacked timing discipline.

The camera cut to her face again. The commentator seized the moment.

“You see that look? That’s the look of someone analyzing every mistake.”

“Absolutely. You have to wonder what she would do differently. We still haven’t seen a player replicate the movement discipline NULLWRAITH showed in the expo finals.”

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“Her map awareness was unreal.”

“And that final ten–second inversion strategy? Still unmatched.”

The crowd murmured in agreement.

Below, Jessica’s team executed a clean counterplay, reclaiming territory with a tight three–point rotation.

The audience roared.

Jessica glanced up toward Cassienne’s pod and gave a playful salute.

Cassienne laughed softly and clapped.

The cameras caught it again. But this time, something else was caught too.

A man from the tournament production team, headset around his neck, tall, sharp suit, stepped into the glass pod briefly to clarify something with her about the next ceremonial segment.

He leaned slightly toward her to be heard over the noise.

He whispered something. And Cassienne laughed.

The camera, ever–hungry for moments, zoomed in just as her head tilted toward him.

The image was broadcast live.

And miles away…..

In Dreston’s family estate living room, the television screen illuminated three faces.

Dreston sat forward on the couch, elbows on his knees. His white shirt sleeves were rolled up. He had intended to review documents after lunch.

He hadn’t.

The moment the broadcast started, he was glued to the screen.

Beside him, Emily sat comfortably, a soft shawl over her shoulders. She looked healthier than she had in

years.

Joseph and Abigail were watching from the adjacent armchairs.

The arena’s roar filled the room.

“There she is,” Abigail said softly, smiling.

Emily’s eyes shone with pride. “That’s my daughter.”

On screen, the commentators were replaying Jessica’s highlight moment.

Then the camera cut back to Cassienne’s pod. Dreston’s gaze sharpened immediately. He watched the

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man step closer. He watched the whisper. And he watched Cassienne laugh.

His jaw tightened. 1

The remote creaked slightly under his grip. Emily did not miss that. She tilted her head, studying him carefully.

“You don’t look pleased,” she observed gently.

Dreston did not take his eyes off the screen.

“I just don’t like strangers getting too comfortable.”

Emily’s lips curved knowingly.

“Oh?”

The camera replayed the shot again in slow motion. Emily folded her hands on her lap.

“Then why didn’t you go with her?”

Dreston blinked.

She continued calmly, “If you don’t want another man whispering into your wife’s ear, perhaps you should be the one whispering.”

Joseph cleared his throat awkwardly, pretending to focus on the screen.

Abigail hid a soft smile.

Dreston leaned back slightly, running a hand through his curls. “She insisted on going alone,” he

muttered.

Emily’s eyes softened.

“You are her husband. You don’t wait for permission to stand beside her.”

But he didn’t answer. His silence said everything.

Back at the arena, the second round had reached peak intensity.

The match was tied one–to–one. And the crowd was on edge.

Jessica’s team executed a daring vertical drop maneuver, a high–risk move that required precise timing.

The commentator nearly shouted.

“That’s bold! That’s NULLWRAITH–style bold!”

“Exactly! You can see her influence. These players grew up watching her gameplay.”

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