The Sound of Control
1130 Words
Lana stood in the bathroom mirror, tying her hair into a neat bun. Cassian’s cologne still lingered on her collar from the morning kiss, and it made her smile. That quiet kind of smile the one that stays just for you.
She smoothed her blouse, reached for her lipstick, and caught herself humming. Everything about today felt normal. Good. Anchored.
Until her phone buzzed.
Cassian: Hey. Got reassigned. Leaving town. Not sure for how long.
She stared at the screen.
Another message followed: Will explain later. I love you.
Her fingers hovered over the screen, then curled into a soft fist.
She exhaled.
She wasn’t the kind of woman who jumped to conclusions. Cassian had always been dependable. Always.
Still… something about the message scratched at the back of her ribs.
A knock came at her door.
"Come in."
Maya, her favorite coworker and unofficial work-bestie, stepped in with a file. “Nico’s asking for the supplier reports.”
“Oh,” Lana said, blinking as if she’d just remembered where she was. “Yeah, sorry. I got distracted.”
Maya raised an eyebrow, handing over the file. “Distracted....,how?”
Lana hesitated. “Cassian. He just texted. He’s been reassigned to a new client. Left this morning. Says he’ll explain later.”
“Reassigned?” Maya’s expression softened. “Out of the city?”
Lana nodded. “Yeah. He didn’t say where or for how long. And it’s strange. He’s never been away from me for more than a day. And even then, it was always emergencies. He’d always call, always say goodbye properly. This just… I don’t know.”
Maya moved closer, voice gentler. “Do you think something’s wrong?”
Lana shook her head slowly. “No. I trust him. I really do. It’s just… it’s this new assignment. I can’t shake the feeling. Like something’s off.”
Maya leaned against the edge of her desk. “Well, Lana… a woman’s gut is rarely wrong.”
Lana looked up, her face half hopeful, half worried.
“But,” Maya added with a soft smile, “Cassian’s a good man. One of the rare ones. Maybe it really was urgent. Maybe the client’s someone high-profile who needed immediate coverage, and they sent their best. Which is him.”
Lana smiled faintly. “Yeah. That sounds like him.”
“So,” Maya said, tapping the file. “Let’s just get through this day. And if you feel like spiraling, I brought snacks.”
Lana laughed. “Thank God for you.”
The private jet hummed beneath Cassian’s feet.
Selene sat across from him, legs crossed, reading a contract she clearly wasn’t paying attention to. Her phone buzzed every few seconds. She ignored it all.
Cassian stared out the window, jaw tight. He’d sent Lana a voice note. Told her he’d explain soon. That he loved her. That she was the only thing that felt like home.
But this wasn’t a simple assignment anymore.
Not when Selene was watching him the way she was now.
“You’re quiet,” she said, without looking up.
“I’m working.”
“Funny. I thought you were brooding.”
He said nothing.
She smiled to herself.
“Tell me, Cassian… do you think love is stronger than need?”
He turned his head. “What?”
“Nothing,” she said, stretching out her legs. “Just wondering how much of you belongs to her… and how much is just waiting to be claimed.”
He exhaled through his nose and looked away.
The resort in Santorini was all glass and light. Ocean in every direction. A perfect illusion of peace.
Cassian stepped out of the sleek car, expecting briefcases, tight agendas, security walk-throughs. What he found instead was a smiling assistant waving from under a wide straw hat.
"Welcome, Miss Blackwood. Everything’s ready. Your guests are already on the rooftop terrace."
Cassian glanced at Selene. She said nothing. Just slid her sunglasses back on and handed him her handbag.
They stepped into the lobby airy, marbled, with soft music playing somewhere in the background. He followed as she led them toward the elevators.
“This is a business trip?” he asked lowly.
Selene barely glanced over. “Of course. Business happens in all kinds of places. Even paradise.”
The elevator doors closed.
“Besides,” she added, “I needed a change of scenery. And new scenery needs protection.”
The doors opened onto the top floor. Laughter echoed from the terrace.
Three women turned around, already lounging with cocktails in hand. All designer bags, glossy lips, and endless legs.
“Well, well,” one of them drawled. “Is that the bodyguard you warned us about?”
Selene smiled . “They’re exaggerating. I only said you were disciplined. Stubborn. Married.”
That last word had bite.
He set her bags inside the suite while they all giggled from outside. One of the women leaned in and whispered loudly enough for him to hear, “No way he’s just a bodyguard.”
Inside, the suite was vast. White linen couches. A soaking tub with a view of the sea. And a separate room with his name already on the door.
She kicked off her heels and turned to him.
“You’ll stay in the room across the hall. But don’t get too comfortable. I’ll need you nearby.”
“I always am.”
She paused, stepped close. “That’s what I’m counting on.”
Later that night, Cassian stood at attention outside Selene’s suite, staring down at the glowing marble floor as the warm hum of the resort pulsed softly behind him. Then her voice came through the door smooth, commanding.
"Cassian. Inside."
He stepped in, and instantly regretted it.
Selene was standing near the window, silhouetted by the lights of Santorini. She wore red lace lingerie, delicate and sheer, with a silk robe draped carelessly around her arms. It wasn’t fully tied. It didn’t need to be.
Cassian looked away so quickly it almost hurt.
"Relax," she said, pouring herself a glass of wine without looking at him. "You’re here for protection, not temptation. So protect."
He cleared his throat, trying to focus on the skyline instead of the way the red lace clung to her skin.
Before he could respond, the suite door opened behind him.
Cassian turned sharply, already tense, hand instinctively moving to block.
Damon walked in, casual as ever, holding a bottle of wine and dressed in a half-unbuttoned black shirt that made it clear he wasn’t here for business.
"It’s okay," Selene said lightly, brushing past Cassian. "He’s a friend."
"Friend?" Damon echoed, raising an eyebrow. He sauntered forward without pause.
As he reached her, Cassian shifted, ready to step in again.
- Writer
