Chapter 347: Back Home

NOAH

Ten days later, the hospital lobby was a hive of chaotic motion, reorganizing itself the way it always did when a person of immense status moved through the world.

Cassian walked out of the sliding glass doors wearing simple dark trousers and a plain gray t-shirt.

On anyone else, the outfit would have been entirely unremarkable, but Cassian had a way of carrying himself that made it impossible to look away.

His presence announced itself long before he ever uttered a word, drawing the eyes of every nurse and visitor in the vicinity.

The security detail was already lined up along the curb, the black sedans idling smoothly.

I followed a step behind him, carrying absolutely nothing because two men in dark suits had materialized the second we left the floor to take our bags.

It was the strange, surreal reality of being adjacent to massive wealth, doors simply opened, luggage vanished, and nobody ever made you wait.

Before we could reach the lead car, a loud, obnoxious car horn echoed through the loading zone, one long, aggressive blast followed by two short taps. A dark tinted window rolled down with a smooth hiss.

Cyan was leaning halfway out of the passenger side of a sleek sports car, his usual expensive sunglasses pushed up into his messy pink hair. His jeweleries flashed brightly in the morning sun.

"SOME OF US," he shouted at the top of his lungs, completely ignoring the quiet dignity of the hospital entrance, "HAVE BEEN SITTING HERE WAITING FOR TWENTY ENTIRE MINUTES."

Cassian didn’t even alter his stride as we approached. "You’ve been waiting exactly four minutes."

"IT FELT LIKE TWENTY," Cyan fired back, completely unbothered.

"Get back inside the car," Cassian commanded flatly.

"NOAH!" Cyan yelled, pointing a dramatic finger at Cassian. "TELL HIM IT FELT LIKE AN ETERNITY."

"I am absolutely not getting involved in this," I said, raising my hands as we reached the curb.

"Total betrayal!" Cyan disappeared back into the air-conditioned interior, though he kept the window rolled down so his voice could still carry across the pavement. "I drove all the way here at great personal sacrifice to my sleep schedule—"

"You nearly ran over a cyclist three blocks ago, sir," a dry, muffled voice came from inside .

"He was drifting into my lane, Reggie!"

Cassian opened the rear door and pulled himself inside with the slow, deliberate movements of a man who had long since made peace with the chaotic nature of his closest friend.

I slid into the leather seat beside him, and the heavy door shut out the noise of the street as the car pulled smoothly into the traffic.

Cyan twisted around in the front seat, his elbow propped on the leather headrest so he could look back at us.

His playful expression dropped for a fraction of a second, replaced by a flash of genuine relief. "You actually look better," he said, his tone surprisingly soft. "Like... significantly better."

"I feel significantly better," Cassian replied, his eyes drifting out toward the passing buildings. "Now turn around."

"I’m just offering a valid medical compliment—"

"Cyan."

With a dramatic sigh, Cyan turned back toward the windshield, but he kept his arm draped over the seat so he was still partially facing us.

I watched the easy, comfortable shorthand between them, the deep warmth of a friendship that had survived things I couldn’t even fathom.

It made a strange, complicated knot form in my chest, a mixture of comfort and lingering questions that I chose not to unpack in the back of a moving car.

The second the sedan pulled into the private driveway, the front door of the estate flew open. Mrs. Chen was already standing on the stone steps before the engine had fully died.

The moment her eyes landed on Cassian stepping out of the vehicle, her face went through a profound transformation.

It was the look of someone who had spent weeks carrying a heavy, silent terror and was now trying to process the sudden lightness of relief by blinking back tears.

"Mr. Cassian," she said quietly, her voice trembling slightly as she hurried down the steps. Her hands reached out, gripping his forearms for a brief second before she pulled him into a tight, slightly awkward hug.

Cassian went completely rigid for a half-second, the way he always did whenever unexpected affection caught him off guard.

Then, slowly, his large arms came up, and he gave her back a firm, reassuring pat. "Mrs. Chen."

When she stepped back, her professional, composed mask was firmly back in place, save for the bright moisture in her eyes.

"I have prepared a light lunch," she said, already turning to head back toward the kitchen before anyone could argue.

"The discharge paperwork notes that your stomach will be sensitive for the first week. You must eat carefully."

"I am aware."

Mrs. Chen stopped, turning her gaze directly to me. Her expression was intensely warm, full of a deep, unspoken gratitude.

"Thank you," she said simply, looking at me and just me. "Thank you for staying with him."

The sheer simplicity of the statement caught me off guard. "Of course, Ma’am."

Cyan left shortly after the meal concluded, his departure exactly what I had come to expect... loud, sudden, and accompanied by a casual promise to return tomorrow that everyone in the house believed instantly.

Cyan was chaotic, but he never broke a promise to Cassian.

With his car roaring down the driveway, the massive house fell into a deep, heavy quiet.

The security detail remained stationed outside the iron gates, and Mrs. Chen had vanished back into the lower levels of the estate.

Cassian began making his way up the grand staircase, and I fell into step beside him, neither of us speaking as our shoes clicked against the polished wood.

His bedroom looked exactly the way it had when I left it. Over the last month, I had spent enough time within these walls to learn the exact geography of his personal space.

It was minimal, precise, and entirely devoid of unnecessary clutter, just the bare essentials of what he required to exist.

My eyes automatically drifted toward the dark wood nightstand.

The leather wallet wasn’t there. It wasn’t in the spot where I left it.

A sudden, sharp spike of panic hit my chest.

Where is it? Did Mrs. Chen move it when she dusted? Has Cassian notice it is missing? Does he know I looked inside? I put it back exactly where I found it. I know I did.

"I’m going to wash up," Cassian said, his voice breaking through my spiraling thoughts as he walked toward the master bathroom.

"Right," I stammered, trying to force my voice into something resembling calm.

"Good idea. Yes. I’ll just..." I gestured vaguely toward the bed, trying to look like a person who wasn’t currently having a minor internal crisis about a missing piece of evidence.

The bathroom door clicked shut, followed by the sound of rushing water.

Left alone in the quiet room, my eyes darted back to the nightstand, then toward the large wardrobe across the floor. Maybe the wallet was hidden inside one of the drawers.

Needing something to occupy my trembling hands, I began tidying up the small items scattered around the space.

I spotted Cassian’s t-shirt draped over the back of the armchair. I picked it up, intending to fold it neatly.

Just put it away, my brain commanded, my pulse quickening as the faint, masculine scent of his skin drifted from the fabric. You are just folding a piece of clothing. That is all this is. Don’t be ridiculous.

I smoothed the cotton over my knees, my face growing incredibly hot as my thoughts wandered into territory I would absolutely deny under oath for the rest of my life.

"Oh my God," I whispered to the empty room, pressing my forehead against the folded shirt. "What is actually wrong with you?"

I practically shoved the cloth into the dresser drawer, forcing myself to take a deep, steadying breath just as a soft knock sounded at the door.

Mrs. Chen entered, carrying a fresh tray of hot tea. Her timing was either a miracle or a complete disaster, depending on how much of my red face she could see.

"Is he settling in well?" she asked quietly, setting the tray down on the low table.

"He’s in the shower," I replied, clearing my throat and stepping away from the dresser. "He seems... good. Tired, but definitely good."

Mrs. Chen nodded, adjusting one of the porcelain cups. "You should make sure to take care as well, Noah," she said, her eyes shifting to fix me with a gentle, knowing look. "You’ve been running on pure adrenaline and very little sleep for a long time."

"I’m perfectly fine, really."

She gave me the look of an older woman who didn’t believe a word of my protest but possessed the wisdom not to push the issue. "I’ll leave an extra plate downstairs in case you’re hungry again," she said, already stepping back toward the hallway.

The bathroom door opened, a cloud of warm steam billowing out into the bedroom.

Cassian walked out into the room. He had a white towel wrapped loosely around his low hips, his skin still glistening with damp heat.

The dark lines of his tattoos and the stark, pale marks of his scars were fully on display, casting a striking silhouette against the light of the room.

My heart practically leaped into my throat. "I should really get back to the office," I blurted out, the words flying from my mouth before my brain could even process the decision.

My legs were already moving toward my bag.

Cassian paused, reaching for a clean shirt from the bed without looking at me. "The office?"

"Yes, there are several budget meetings... things have been piling up on my desk," I rambled, my voice sounding entirely too fast as I grabbed my coat.

"They specifically require your signature, which I’ve been delaying, but now that you’re back and upright, I should really handle them immediately—"

"Noah." His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried a heavy, unyielding weight that stopped my feet right before I could reach the threshold.

I froze, my hand hovering an inch from the wooden frame. It was the exact same position I had found myself in at the hospital an hour ago, and a month ago, and through the entire terrifying length of this ordeal.

Slowly, I turned around to face him.

Cassian was looking straight at me now, his dark eyes intense and unreadable beneath his damp hair. It was the exact look I had spent months trying to decipher... the look I couldn’t stop myself from analyzing, no matter how dangerous it felt.

"The meetings can wait," he said softly, his tone leaving absolutely no room for argument. "Come here."