The Billionaire widowers Last Wife

Glass kept tinkling long after the chandelier hit the floor.

The noise lingered in the air, thin and metallic, like reality hadn't caught up yet.

Eloise's ears rang as if the balcony itself had taken the blow. She blinked hard, once, twice, trying to steady the world as it tilted out of place. For a second there was nothing. No voices, footsteps, sound or anything. just the heavy impact below, metal striking first, glass shattering a breath later.

Eloise didn't move.

Not because she was brave.

Because Cassian's hand was still wrapped around her arm, firm enough to hold her there, steady enough to remind her she was still standing.

She looked down.

The heel of her shoe was inches from a shard of glass that gleamed like a blade.

Cassian's fingers tightened slightly, guiding her back without dragging her, without rushing, like he was moving something fragile through a room full of traps.

"Eloise," he said, slowly, carefully.

The sound of her name in his mouth cut through the chaos more sharply than the crash had.

She swallowed, throat tight. "I'm... I'm fine."

His gaze didn't meet her eyes. It skimmed over her head, her collarbone, the curve of her shoulders - the exact places the chandelier would have struck if he hadn't dragged her back. He looked like a man bracing himself to see blood.

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

"I don't think so." Her voice came out smaller than she intended.

He lifted her hand gently, turning it palm-up. His thumb brushed across her knuckles with quick precision, not tenderness, like he needed proof she hadn't been hurt.

Eloise breathed in, and his scent reached her again. clean, expensive, faintly sharp, like cold air over stone.

His fingers slid to her pulse.

The touch wasn't romantic. It was careful. He held it there, eyes fixed on her face now, tracking every breath, every flicker of reaction, watching her like her body might betray something she hadn't said aloud.

"Cassian," she whispered, because there was something unnerving about how calm he was.

His gaze didn't waver. "Breathe," he said quietly. "Slowly."

She forced air into her lungs, then let it out. Her body obeyed him before her pride had time to argue.

Behind them, voices started rising from inside the restaurant as people rushed toward the noise. A staff member pushed through the balcony doors, stopping short when she saw the wreckage below, her hands hovering uselessly in front of her as if she didn't know what to touch first.

"Call an ambulance!" someone shouted from inside.

Another voice snapped back, "She's not hurt!"

"Everyone stay back," a man called, trying to sound in control and failing.

Eloise's gaze dropped again.

The chandelier lay twisted where it had fallen, its metal frame bent out of shape, glass shattered across the pavement below in a spray of glittering fragments. The chain that had held it hung broken from above, the split link bright and raw where it had snapped.

Cassian looked up.

Not at the wreckage.

At the ceiling.

His eyes moved slowly over the empty space where the chandelier had hung, then to the dangling chain, then to the mounting point above it.

He wasn't looking like a shocked man.

He was studying it.

A staff member finally found her voice. "It-it must have been old," she stammered, eyes darting between Cassian and the wreckage below. "Fixtures like that... they wear out."

Cassian didn't answer right away.

"When was the last inspection?" he asked.

The staff member blinked. "Inspection?"

Cassian's voice stayed even. "Maintenance. Repairs. Who last worked on it?"

The woman hesitated. "I... I don't know. Management handles-"

Cassian turned his head slightly, not fully away from Eloise. He only angled enough to bring the woman into his focus.

Eloise saw the change the moment it happened. the woman's expression tightening, her shoulders drawing in, the quick swallow that followed.

"We had work done," she said quickly. "Recently. The chain was replaced."

Cassian's gaze sharpened, and she felt the shift through his touch. the subtle tightening of his fingers, the kind that meant his mind had already moved ahead of everyone else's.

"When?" he asked.

"Two weeks ago," the woman said. Then, hurried, "It was scheduled. Routine."

Cassian lifted his hand from her pulse, and for the first time since the crash she realized how violently her heart had been pounding. Her palms were damp.

"You should sit," he said, turning his attention back to her.

"I'm fine," she lied.

A man in a dark suit hurried toward them from inside, phone pressed to his ear, face tight with stress. His words came out fast and tangled. "Yes, yes, the chandelier - yes - someone nearly - no, no fatalities -"

He glanced at Cassian and faltered mid-sentence, like the sight of him had knocked the rhythm out of his voice.

Cassian didn't look at him.

He looked at the staff member again.

"Who replaced the chain?" he asked.

The woman shook her head. "A contractor. I don't know the name. Management handles that."

Cassian's eyes flicked toward the interior of the restaurant where a man in a dark vest stood near the service corridor speaking urgently with two employees, his expression tight with strain.

Cassian started to move.

Eloise's fingers tightened on the chair. "Where are you going?"

He stopped just long enough to look at her.

"Stay here," he said.

It wasn't a command disguised as kindness. It was plain instruction. 

Eloise swallowed. "Cassian-"

His gaze held hers, "Stay with your friend," he said, his eyes shifting briefly toward Adam, who had finally pushed through from inside, his expression sharp with concern.

Adam's stare went straight to Eloise. His hand lifted slightly, like he was checking from across the space that she was still intact.

Eloise nodded once, because she didn't have the strength to argue.

Cassian walked away. 

Cassian was speaking to the manager now. Not arguing, but asking questions. The man answered, shook his head, then gestured toward the office door.

Adam leaned closer, voice low. "This is what I meant."

Eloise didn't answer.

Because she couldn't decide what unsettled her more.

The falling chandelier...

Or the fact that Cassian Blackmoor hadn't looked surprised.

Adam stayed beside her, close enough that if she swayed he would catch her. His leg bounced once, then stilled.

"Do you want to leave?" he asked.

Eloise opened her mouth, then stopped.

Cassian stepped back into the room.

He didn't look at the wreckage first.

He looked at her.

Just for a second. Like he needed to see her upright before anything else.

 Then his gaze shifted briefly to Adam, acknowledging him with a slight nod.

Cassian walked toward them.

His eyes moved over her once more, slower now, as if he didn't trust the first check. He seemed satisfied, but the tension didn't leave his face.

He turned slightly toward the staff member hovering nearby.

"You said the chain was replaced."

"Yes."

"Bring me the invoice."

"I- I don't have it on me."

Cassian didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. "Then bring me the person who signed off on it."

"The manager isn't here tonight."

Cassian held her gaze.

"Who the hell authorized the repair?" he asked quietly.

The woman's mouth opened.

No sound came out.

A man holding a broom froze mid-motion.

Even Adam went still.

Cassian waited.

And the silence that answered him didn't feel like confusion.

It felt like fear.