Claire hurried to get ready as her flight was scheduled to land within half an hour. Mike, one of Cain's subordinates, arrived promptly to take her to the airport, and in no time, she boarded her flight. By 7 p.m., she had touched down in S City. As she exited the terminal, she noticed Mark waiting to receive her. The moment he spotted her, he looked away, tension flickering in his eyes. Claire walked over, keeping her face expressionless.
"What's going on, Mark? Why did he call me here?" she asked directly. Mark didn't respond, instead, motioned for her to follow him. They walked in silence to the parking lot until Claire halted, her gaze on his face as he turned back to her, puzzled.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, unable to meet her eyes.
With a raised brow, she responded. "Are you not happy that I'm out of jail?"
Mark looked stunned, caught off guard. "I–No. I..."
She sighed. "Oh, I see. I thought you might be." She turned and began walking toward the car. Behind her, Mark seemed to struggle with his emotions, finally speaking up.
"Claire, wait!" She stopped and looked over her shoulder. After a pause, he continued, "I thought you'd hate me, resent me, never want to speak to me again. I failed you, Claire. As a friend, as a big brother—I wasn't there for you. And it's not that I'm not happy. I just…I feel ashamed. Friends stick together in hard times, and I didn't. I—"
"Mark," Claire interrupted with a small, wry smile. "You forgot to breathe." She chuckled, folding her arms over her chest.
Realizing he'd rambled, Mark laughed awkwardly. Claire stepped closer and tapped him lightly on the head.
"I don't hate you, and I never thought of you as a bad person. I was betrayed by someone I loved. What could you have done as his subordinate? So let's leave it at that, okay?" She smiled reassuringly before walking away. Mark stayed rooted in his place for a moment, a relieved smile forming on his face before following her to the car.
Their drive to the hotel was filled with laughter and light conversation. At one point, Mark even stopped to let Claire buy some candied fruits she spotted at a roadside stall. Soon, they reached the hotel and Mark escorted her to her room before excusing himself, reminding her to get ready soon.
As she entered the room, Claire was greeted by a beautiful bouquet of flowers and a deliciously warm meal waiting for her. A stunning black gown was draped on the bed, shimmering under the room's lights. But to her surprise, Cain wasn't there. After a long, warm shower, she slipped into the gown and began to put on her heels when her phone buzzed. Cain's name flashed on the screen.
"Claire, I'm waiting for you at the hotel entrance. Come down when you're ready." His voice was softer than usual. After a brief silence, Claire hung up. She took a steadying breath and made her way downstairs, her mind racing with questions about why she was there.
As she reached the entrance, she noticed a sleek black Rolls-Royce parked near the entrance. She walked toward it and stepped in, finding Cain inside with a smile on his face—one she hadn't seen before.
"Did you have any trouble on your way here?" he asked politely.
She shook her head, replying with a simple 'no.' The rest of the car ride was filled with Cain's attempts at conversation, but she kept her responses brief, uncertain about his intentions. After what felt like an endless journey, they arrived at a secluded destination. Mark stayed behind with the car, leaving her alone with Cain.
As they walked, Claire's breath caught at the sight before her—a beautifully decorated seaside penthouse, glowing under the moonlight. Lanterns illuminated a cozy pathway leading up to it and delicate flowers were draped over every surface. Seeing her stunned expression, Cain chuckled. "I'll take that as a compliment."
She said nothing, but as they moved closer, Cain leaned toward her ear and asked, "Would you like to board the yacht for a sea ride? Or would you rather relax in the penthouse?"
Oh, how she wanted to sail the sea, but she held back, shrugging nonchalantly and turning toward the penthouse. Cain seemed to catch her hesitation. Without warning, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up.
"Hey! Put me down!" she protested, but he ignored her, carrying her toward the yacht. Soon, they were greeted by the captain and his crew, and the yacht began its journey into the open water. She made her way to the railing, captivated by the calm waves, the reflection of the moon, and the night breeze on her face. It was enchanting, and for a moment, she felt a rare sense of peace.
Then, she felt Cain's presence beside her. He gently draped his coat over her shoulders as the breeze picked up.
"You look like a fairy, Claire," he murmured with a smile. Their eyes met and a surge of emotions filled her—anger, sorrow, longing. She wanted to scream at him, to make him feel her pain, but she held back, choosing silence.
Cain stepped closer, his hand grazing hers, sending a shiver down her spine. He turned her to face him, his fingers softly tracing her cheek as he held her gaze. He gently tilted her chin up, his gaze tender, almost vulnerable. Then, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips warm against her skin. He rested her head in his arms and tightened his grip around her.
Her breath caught, the intensity of his touch mixed with the chilly sea air. Cain held her close and whispered, "Claire, stay with me tonight. I know I don't deserve your time, or even you, but I want you to hear me out. Tonight, it may be the night that your decision will either make me or break me."