The invitation
355 Words
The next night, Cassandra was wiping down the counter when the diner’s door opened again. Edwin didn’t come alone this time — two men in dark coats followed, their eyes scanning the room with quiet menace.
He approached her directly, not bothering with the booth.
“Cassandra,” he said, his tone softer than she expected. “There’s a gathering tomorrow. I want you there.”
Her brows furrowed. “A gathering?”
“A dinner,” Edwin clarified, though his eyes hinted at something more. “You’ll see my world. You’ll understand why I don’t want you wasting your time here.”
Collins, sliding into the booth behind him, raised an eyebrow. “Or you’ll see why you should stay far away.” His grin was playful, but his voice carried warning.
Cassandra’s heart thudded. Edwin’s invitation felt like a door opening into danger. Collins’s words felt like a rope pulling her back.
Later, when Edwin stepped outside to take a call, Collins leaned across the counter. His voice dropped, urgent now.
“Don’t go,” he said. “His dinners aren’t dinners. They’re displays. He’ll parade you like a prize, and once you’re in, you don’t get out.”
Cassandra swallowed hard. “And you? Why do you care?”
Collins’s grin faltered. “Because I’ve seen what happens to people who get too close. And because…” He hesitated, then met her eyes. “Because I don’t want you to be one of them.”
Her chest tightened. For the first time, she realized Collins’s charm wasn’t just surface. He meant it.
That night, Cassandra lay awake in her small apartment, staring at the ceiling. Edwin’s words replayed in her mind — You’ll see my world. Collins’s plea echoed too — Don’t go.
She imagined herself at Edwin’s side, dressed in something elegant, stepping into a room filled with power and danger. She imagined herself laughing with Collins over tea, safe but uncertain.
Coffee or tea. Bitter or sweet. Command or choice.
Her heart raced as she realized the truth: whichever path she chose, her life would never be the same again.
- Writer
