The sun had already bid farewell to the city a few hours earlier, yet Cixi's day was nowhere closer to done.
"I am tired — hungry," Cixi mumbled softly as she dragged her legs to move forward to her last destination, Sinn Valley, the tallest building in Demond City.
Her fingers ached, her wrist throbbed, and her legs were losing their strength. The sandwich she had eaten in the afternoon had long since been digested and utilised by her body. The weight of her heavy winter coat didn't make it any easier for her to carry herself forward, but she did anyway.
She had not walked far when she heard footsteps behind her. At first, she did not pay attention, but then footsteps started to sound hurried as if they were out to get something, and not just one footstep but multiple. Without a single glance back, she lengthened her stride, and those following behind her did the same, instilling a deep sense of dread.
"Where are you going?" Cixi flinched, hearing a male voice asking someone or her. But she didn't stop or turn to verify who the spokesperson was.
"Guess she only recognises my punch." The same man commented, and multiple laughs echoed on the street.
Cixi turned her head in panic to confirm whether they were who she thought they were, and her breath was almost knocked from her lungs.
They were the same drug addicts who loitered near her building and had dragged her into alleys more than once, using her as a punching bag, knowing no one would come.
'What were they doing here?' Cixi pondered in anxiety.
This was Demond's wealthiest district, and they had no business being here. So why were they here? And another thought struck her... what if they were here to get her? But then, how did they know where she was? And how was her luck turning for the worse?
She forced her legs to move faster, forgetting all the pain her body was experiencing.
"You know there is no point running away from us, right?" the second male called with amusement laced with threat.
And Cixi broke into a jog. "Leave me alone! Or else I will call the police!" she shouted, hating how thin her voice sounded in the open air.
And several of them laughed at her weak threats.
She had already been beaten in college that morning, and she knew her body wouldn't be able to endure much more.
These men showed her no mercy whatsoever. Their punches had landed on her stomach, and their kicks had driven into her ribs with the cruelty as if she were not a human being at all. Maybe death was the answer to end her miserable life.
At that moment, she began to truly doubt whether the fault lay in her. Could it really be her fault that everyone seemed to despise her? The question circled her mind as she ran.
In her desperation not to get caught by them, she focused on her footsteps, failing to notice the pole directly ahead. And when she crashed against the pole, the force knocked her off balance, and she fell to the ground with a soft scream escaping her throat.
Cixi braced herself for their laughter, their taunts, and for the first kick to land. But the footsteps behind her slowed and stopped a short distance away from her.
When nothing transpired, Cixi raised her head only to encounter a pair of dark orbs watching her as he smoked leisurely, one hand in his pocket, and he was missing a winter coat despite the cold night.
It took her a while to realise she had collided with a man, not a pole. How hard his chest was that it felt incredibly strong, she pondered. Her gaze remained locked on his broad, powerful chest for seconds before meeting his intense eyes, which were still watching her without giving much.
His gaze shifted from her to the men behind her, reminding her of druggies, and panic crept into her heart.
Cixi pushed herself to her feet and scanned her surroundings looking for the Sinn Valley building, only to find she was standing right in front of it.
This was the building.
Her last job of the day.
She tried to reach the door before one of the men dragged her away. "You are coming with us," the druggie barked.
Before Cixi could protest, the druggie's wrist was caught by the man who was holding a cigarette in his other hand. Without much effort, the man twisted his wrist sharply and flung him aside, sending the man staggering backwards with a cry of pain.
A relief washed over Cixi and with muddled thoughts, she took her chance and went inside the door without turning back. She took a lift to the last floor of the building.
The lift opened directly onto the highest floor that belonged entirely to one man, Cassian Crown. Cixi entered the PIN given by her company and let herself inside, although her hands were quivering from the encounter with druggies.
Steadying her heart, she began her work without wasting a single moment. Dusting, wiping, and collecting empty bottles from the night before.
Then she heard a sound. The sound of the low electric buzz of the door lock disengaging.
She straightened instinctively with anticipation, dropping everything she was doing.
The front door opened, and the same man she had met near the entrance stepped inside, soaked in blood… no, he was dripping with it from head to toe.
Cixi could only stare frozen where she stood, only her gaze followed his movement.
Cassian walked towards one of the rooms on the left side, leaving a trail of crimson liquid on the floor, and then closed the door quietly behind him, but not before giving her a scowl. "Continue," he remarked, almost offhand, as if they were in the middle of an ordinary evening. "I am going for a shower." And he vanished behind the doorway.
It was him. She recognised him — the sandwich guy. The sandwich guy was Cassian Crown, the acting president of Premium Luxury Hotels. He was the billionaire she had met that morning. And it was his home.
The information took a while to sink in for her.
She returned to her cleaning once again and had almost finished half of her checklist when she heard the footsteps.
Cassian emerged from the corridor wearing nothing but dark track pants that sat low on his hips. His upper body was bare, revealing a chest and shoulders cut with a lean, six-disciplined pack and muscle. His hair was wet, darkened by water. He moved with a quiet grace under his control.
He walked past her without haste, heading toward the bar counter.
Cixi's fingers did not move. Neither did her feet. Her gaze followed him as if she were tied to him by an invisible thread, forgetting she had just seen this same man drenched in blood.
He reached the bar, took a bottle of whisky, and poured himself a drink. Amber liquid slid into the crystal glass. He had a taste, then crossed the room to his expensive leather couch and lowered himself into it, stretching out as though it belonged to him, and it did.
"Like what you see?" His lips curved in a slow, devilish smile, while his stare remained on her.
Heat flared in Cixi's cheeks as consciousness rushed back into her. "I… I am sorry. That was rude of me," she murmured, dropping her gaze at once. "Are you hurt?" She decided to be polite. "I am good at first aid," she offered her help.
Cassian remained silent, studying her with curiosity, which Cixi missed. "What happened to your head and lip? They looked perfect this morning," he stated, and Cixi's eyes widened in surprise. He remembered her from this morning and had noticed her back then.
Three heartbeats passed between them before she cleared her throat. "I slipped," she lied to cover up her embarrassing truth.
Before he could ask her anything more, she questioned. "You were soaked in blood. What happened?" She had escaped from those scumbags before, and then he later appeared drenched in blood. She was eager to know what had occurred.
Cassian understood the meaning behind her question, so he gave her what she wanted. "I decided to clean the earth a little." He took a sip from his glass, keeping his gaze fixed on Cixi.
Cixi gulped hard. She feared this person who sat on the couch was a predator, but she still dared to ask. "Clean up the earth? You mean people?" Cixi wanted to dig deeper to know what he did. If he killed them or sent them to the hospital. Although she wasn't sure if he had hurt those scumbags or someone else.
He set his glass down, cocked his head, and narrowed his eyes at her. "Don't you have work to do?" he reminded her, suggesting that her job didn't involve questioning him.
Cixi straightened at once as if she was jolted awake and returned to her tasks while he kept his eyes on her. And for two long hours, that's how it went; she was tidying up, and he was watching her.
By the time she finished, every muscle in her body felt like jelly. The duplex gleamed, and her shoulders drooped with exhaustion. She stepped toward the edge of the living room, smoothed her uniform, and spoke carefully.
"I am done, sir," Cixi informed him, keeping her gaze low.
"Are you hungry?" Cixi heard him ask, yet his tone was lazy and oddly precise, drawing her eyes to his.
"I… I'm sorry?" She blinked, confused by the question.
"In the fridge, there are leftovers," he elaborated, as though he were merely stating a fact. "If you want, you can take them with you."
Cixi's eyes moved in the direction of the kitchen, then back to him. The thought of food made her stomach happy, yet something in her pride held her tongue. Does he think she thinks about food all day?
"Thank you, sir," she replied quietly. "But I am all right. You can always heat and eat them tomorrow."
For a fleeting second, Cassian said nothing. His eyes zeroed just a fraction on her, as though studying a stubborn creature that required a specific approach. "Fine," he quipped. "Before leaving, throw them away. Empty my fridge."
Throw everything away?!
Just like that?!
Cixi regarded him with a look of incredulity. 'Rich people, filthy habits!' She silently cursed him.
"I changed my mind!" she corrected herself in a rush."I will… I will take them with me, sir."
Cassian almost scoffed, though the sound did not quite leave his throat. Did he always have to use the word 'throw' to make this woman accept food? He finally gave the faintest nod of permission.
Cixi bowed her head in thanks and hurried to the kitchen. She opened the fridge and began packing the containers into a bag carefully.
When she returned to the living room, a man stood behind Cassian. The same man with a gun pointed at her in the morning.
Was he planning to kill her after offering her food? She was never going to understand the rich people's weird fantasies. Cixi swallowed hard, taking a cautious step backward. The pale expression on her face revealed to Cassian what was going through her mind.
"He is going to take you back home. I am certain you don't want to get snatched by the street dogs again."
Cixi took a breath, not knowing she had been holding it. She nodded at Cassian like an attentive student, trying not to offend the billionaire whose associates carried toy guns for fun.
Cassian then revealed a coin in his hand. "It's for you." He stretched out his arm enough for her to come closer and take it. With uncertainty, Cixi stepped toward Cassian and accepted the coin from him, noticing a symbol carved into its surface.
"What is this?" she asked, her brow furrowed in curiosity.
"Your tip for doing a good job," he replied.
Cixi turned the coin over in her hand, pondering its importance until she heard him add, "It's very precious. Hold on to it at all times. Who knows, it might bring you luck."
"Really?" She instantly questioned without hiding her curiosity.
"Keep it with you always."