Signed to Obey

The First Encounter

The air between them thickened with the tension that only he knew how to cultivate. Cassian’s eyes never wavered from hers, his dominance settling into the space like a quiet storm. He was untouchable, a man who had everything—except the one thing his parents wanted most: submission.

Clarissa blinked again, but she quickly recovered, her smile returning, but it was strained now. “I see,” she said, her voice soft with that same false sweetness. “Well, I’m sure if we just—”

“I’m not marrying you, Clarissa. This is a waste of time.”

The words landed like a slap. Cassian didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink. He was done.

Her mouth opened, but no words came out for a few seconds. Finally, she forced a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Of course,” she said, her voice a little too tight. “I understand.”

Cassian stood without another word, dismissing her with the same coldness he’d brought into the room.

His parents didn’t say a word either. They both sat in stunned silence as he left, his footsteps echoing with the sound of finality.

One thing was clear: Cassian Reid didn’t marry for anyone’s approval. He didn’t need to.

He walked out of the restaurant, the night air a cold reminder that he’d just won another small battle in his war of control. Now, he had to find someone else to play the part. Someone who wouldn’t ask for anything more than what he was willing to give.

Cassian walked into the café with the same cold air that clung to him everywhere he went. The clatter of cups and the murmur of voices were background noise to him. This wasn’t his world—these people, this place, this noise. He didn’t care for the smell of burnt coffee or the mismatched furniture. It was all beneath him. He wasn’t here for the coffee; he was here because he wanted to be left alone, away from the suffocating expectations of his family.

He stood at the counter, his posture straight, his presence undeniable. He looked like someone who was used to people making way for him. And the woman behind the counter? She’d do the same, whether she wanted to or not. It wasn’t a question.

She didn’t look at him when he approached. Her focus was on the counter, wiping away imaginary dust. A few strands of dark hair fell loosely from her messy bun, and her apron was worn at the edges. She was unpolished, rough around the edges—unlike the pristine, fake world he usually inhabited.

She didn’t acknowledge him right away, didn’t offer the usual forced pleasantries or that fake, practiced smile. She just continued to clean.

Cassian’s gaze flickered over her without much interest. He was used to people recognizing him, stepping aside, offering to be of service. Not her. Not a single glance. He wasn’t used to this—being invisible, even for a second.

Finally, she looked up, meeting his gaze. Her eyes were hard, assessing. The same coldness he carried, but with less distance. She wasn’t afraid of him.

“What can I get you?” she asked, a trace of boredom in her voice.

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he leaned on the counter slightly, studying her with the same unbothered, detached look he gave to everyone. He wasn’t here for small talk. He wasn’t here for anything, really.

“I’ll have a black coffee,” he said flatly, his voice carrying no warmth, no invitation for conversation. “Strong. No nonsense.”

The woman didn’t miss a beat, just nodded and started making the coffee. Cassian stood there, arms crossed, his eyes scanning the café with that same cold, calculating gaze. People shifted around him, but not her. She kept her focus on the coffee machine. Didn’t care that he was Cassian Reid, a man who could buy this entire place without blinking.

As she poured the coffee, her elbow brushed his arm. He barely flinched.

“Watch where you’re putting those elbows,” he said coldly, his voice flat and commanding, as though it were a simple fact he was stating. His tone made it clear that he expected compliance, not a response.

She didn’t even flinch, didn’t apologize. Instead, she shot him a look, her eyes narrowing slightly as she leaned back, crossing her arms.

“You’re the one standing in the middle of the damn counter. Maybe if you moved over, I wouldn’t be bumping into you,” she said with a sharpness that was surprising. It wasn’t rude. It wasn’t fearful. It was just... blunt.

Cassian’s eyes narrowed as he took in her response. Most people would’ve apologized or backed down. She didn’t. She gave as good as she got, a hint of attitude behind her words that was both irritating and... oddly impressive. He wasn’t used to this.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” he replied, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. There was no kindness, no softness. Only coldness. And yet, she didn’t retreat. She just stood there, eyeing him with a look that told him she wasn’t intimidated.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t ask you to stand in my way,” she shot back, her tone still cool but unmistakably sassy. “So, we’re both in the same boat.”

Cassian’s lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw tightening, but his eyes stayed fixed on her. This wasn’t a game he played. He didn’t engage with people like this, especially not in a place like this. But something about the way she just stood there, challenging him without fear or hesitation, made him pause—if only for a moment.

She turned to finish making his coffee, her back to him, but not before muttering, “You know, if you want to avoid getting bumped into, try not standing in my way.”

Cassian’s gaze flicked down to the coffee, and then back to her. He could feel the irritation starting to bubble up—this wasn’t how things were supposed to go. She wasn’t supposed to talk to him like that. But she did. And she didn’t care.

When she placed the coffee in front of him, he didn’t thank her. He didn’t smile. He just stared at her, his expression unreadable, his eyes cold as ice.

“Keep the change,” he said briefly, voice still devoid of any emotion. He didn’t care if she accepted it. He didn’t care if she used it for herself or for the café. It was just a transaction. Another moment to move past.

She glanced at the money, not taking it immediately. “I’m good. You can keep it,” she said, not bothering with politeness. The coolness in her voice was clear, but there was something else there—something that told Cassian that she wasn’t impressed by him.

She wasn’t afraid of him. And that, in itself, was enough to make him want to know more. But he wasn’t about to show it. Not yet.

As he turned to leave, his gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than necessary. She didn’t look back at him. Didn’t acknowledge his presence any more than she had when he first walked in.

Cassian’s steps were heavy as he walked out of the café, the door chiming behind him. But despite himself, despite the cold, calculating wall he had carefully built around his emotions, something lingered.

It was a challenge.

But for now, he kept moving forward, the door swinging shut behind him, his mind already shifting gears.