I Don't Love You Like I Did Yesterday

“She should start getting used to this. Once the project is secured and we’re married, she’ll be moving in with us.”

Cassian’s words cut into me like a blade, each syllable sharper than the last.

He had once promised he would only propose if he secured the project—pleading with Mrs. Montclair to approve our marriage. Now, that promise had become the bargaining chip for his engagement to Sloane.

Even if he no longer wanted me, he shouldn’t have placed me in such a humiliating position, expecting me to simply stand by and accept their intimacy as if it were normal.

My nails dug deep into my palms. Fighting against the sharp sting, I forced myself to clean up before I completely lost control.

Their discarded clothes were strewn across the floor.

Sloane’s lace lingerie dangled from the bedpost, a shameless reminder of what it had been used for last night. Handprints smeared the floor-to-ceiling windows. The bathroom vanity was a disaster. Used condoms were tossed around carelessly.

Filthy. They were filthy. And after being with Cassian, so was I.

I watched them kiss on the balcony as if I weren’t even there, suppressing the bile rising in my throat before fleeing the room.

I thought living like this would break me.

But as the days dragged on, my pain and disgust dulled into numbness. Eventually, I could even listen to their moans without flinching as I brought them their meals.

For seven days, I waited on Cassian.

Seven days later, he finally saw Sloane off, reluctant to let her go. Before she left, she cast me a knowing smile.

“Poor thing, you must be exhausted listening to all those sounds we were making,” she mused, her voice dripping with condescension. “Don’t worry, though—I’ve told Cassian to add a little bonus to your paycheck.”

By the time Cassian returned, night had already fallen.

I lay in bed, dazed and drained, as if I had barely survived some catastrophic ordeal. Somewhere between wakefulness and exhaustion, the mattress suddenly dipped beside me.Before I could react, strong arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me into a firm embrace. His hot breath fanned against the back of my neck.

“My sweet little Pixie, once I marry Sloane—I’ll make it up to you with a wedding of your own, okay?”

“You’ve been a good girl,” he murmured, his voice thick with longing. “Makes me want to keep you hidden away… from the world. Where no one else can see you. I want to keep you just for myself.”

I jolted awake, my body stiffening. With all the strength I could muster, I shoved him away.

“Get out!”

Cassian leaned back against the headboard, watching me with an amused smirk. “Are you mad?”

His gaze was taunting, as if he were toying with a petulant child.

So different from the way he was with Sloane—gentle, careful, utterly devoted. It reminded me that even in bed, he treated her with infinite patience and indulgence.

But with me? He was rough, demanding, taking what he wanted without restraint.

He used to say I made him lose control. Now, I understood—he simply never cared enough to be gentle with me.

When I didn’t respond, his lips curled into something between amusement and mockery. His voice was deceptively soft.

“Come on, I’m doing this for us. You know me. The harder something is to get, the more I want it. And now that I finally get her… she doesn’t feel like matter anymore.”

His tone was almost nonchalant, as if Sloane had already served her purpose.

“You know our family has strict rules. Your background will always be a disadvantage—it will wear you down eventually. So why don’t we just keep things the way they are?”

“Sloane can be a little spoiled, but she has her own social circle. As long as you stay obedient and accommodating, she’ll tolerate your presence. And of course, I won’t let you miserable.”

His gaze darkened, something predatory lurking beneath the surface.

“I’ll make sure you’re compensated. Whenever you want…I’ll try my best to satisfy you.”

My whole body trembled. Each word sent a fresh wave of disgust and fury through me.

And then, without thinking, I slapped him—hard.

“You bastard!”