C7 The Blueprints of Doubt

Cassidy’s POV

Cassidy stared at the empty chair long after Aria left.

Every instinct in his body told him to go after her—chase her like he did that night. But instincts were dangerous. And in his world, chasing meant weakness. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, hands steepled under his chin, and replayed the conversation in his head.

She was cracking. Not much, but enough.

There was a fire under that steel composure. A fire he’d seen once before—when she wore a silver mask and danced like she owned the night. That woman hadn’t been cold. That woman had burned.

So why was Aria Winters pretending to be someone else?

He tapped a finger against the edge of the table.

“Tell me your secrets,” he murmured to the empty room.

---

Later That Day — Executive Design Review Meeting

The conference room was packed—his top team, marketing, and two junior architects Aria had personally requested. Cassidy watched her from across the long table. She stood tall, gesturing to her design model on the screen.

Her voice? Flawless. Measured. Professional.

But Cassidy wasn’t listening to the words.

He was watching the performance.

Every time her eyes almost met his, she blinked and looked away. Every time she said “Lorne Corp” instead of “your company,” it was deliberate. She was drawing lines. Reinforcing walls.

He couldn’t help but want to knock every one of them down.

Then someone opened their mouth.

“Mr. Lorne,” said Marcus, the Head of Development, “While the design is clean, I’m not sure the open terrace concept works for our financial floor. Security could be compromised.”

Aria responded, cool and confident. “Then we secure it differently. This terrace symbolizes openness—something Lorne Corp could use more of.”

A few executives snickered. Cassidy didn’t.

He smiled.

“Let it stay,” he said, eyes locked on Aria. “The terrace stays.”

Marcus frowned. “But the—”

“I said what I said.”

Aria glanced up sharply. Not with gratitude—more like suspicion. She knew that wasn’t a win. She knew he was playing a long game.

Good.

She was starting to learn the rules.

---

Cassidy’s Private Office — That Night

The sun had dipped below the horizon, and the city pulsed with light. Cassidy walked into his private lounge and picked up the security footage file he’d asked for.

Masked Ball. One night. One woman.

And now… one architect.

He clicked play and paused at her image.

Even in grainy footage, her eyes had been unforgettable.

“You can lie all you want, Aria,” he whispered. “But I see you now.”

And he planned to see more.