"Hello?"
Her voice was thick, choked with emotion and Cassian froze for a moment.
He strode out of the room and found a quiet place. "What's wrong?"
Winter blinked away the heat in her eyes and forced a few deep breaths. "Nothing. Just yawned. Do you need anything?"
Relieved she wasn’t hurt, he got straight to the point. "I’ll send you an address. Can you bring some things over for me?"
At this point, she had had enough of being at his beck and call, so she immediately refused.
"Why not ask your assistant? I—"
But before she could finish, he had already hung up. A moment later, a text came through with the address and the list.
With that came one final line. [Winter, stop messing around. This is really urgent.]
She didn’t answer. Instead, she forwarded the message to his assistant.
She wanted him to understand that she wasn’t going to say yes every time.
Ten minutes later, her phone rang. It was the assistant.
"Winter, I’m so sorry… my grandma’s sick. I’m back in my hometown for two weeks. I can’t help you since I'm not in Melbourne."
The girl sounded panicked, like she was already halfway to packing her desk.
Winter caught the fear in her voice and sighed, "Okay, take good care of your grandmother. Don't worry about it."
She ended up buying the things herself and taking them to the address of Cassian’s banquet.
She knocked several times, but no one answered. With no other option, she handed the bag to the security guard and asked him to pass it along. He just waved her inside, telling her to deliver it herself.
Left with no choice once again, she pushed open the door.
As soon as the door opened, she stepped into a sudden hush. Then came the whispers.
"Who’s that? Looks like she’s wearing rags."
"Even my tablecloth is better quality than that. Guess we’re getting a little variety in the entertainment tonight."
"I’ve seen her before. Isn’t she the mistress of Yvonne’s ex-husband?"
"Huh. If that’s the mistress standard these days, charity work would be a better use of time."
Winter barely flinched. Years of standing beside Cassian in business had made her immune to insults.
But when she heard them call her a mistress, something in her chest twisted.
Two days ago, she would have snapped back—she was his wife, not some other woman. But today… she wasn’t sure what she was anymore.
Not a mistress, but not a real wife either, because Cassian had never loved her.
She weaved her way awkwardly through the crowd until she spotted him near a sofa.
A glass of wine in his hand, he stood facing Yvonne, who was smiling brightly at him. Together, they looked like the perfect pair, wrapped in their own little world.
Her grip on the paper bag tightened as she stepped forward.
"Cassian, here’s what you wanted."
He glanced at her clothes and frowned.
"Why didn’t you call me? Why just walk in like this?"
His eyes and voice dripped with obvious contempt and in that instant, Winter felt the sting of humiliation.
She had brushed off every cold remark and cutting comment from the crowd earlier, but one sentence from him had knocked down the walls she had built around herself.
Suddenly, she felt ridiculous for even bothering to bring him painkillers.
She tossed the paper bag onto the sofa, jaw tight and met his gaze without flinching.
"I called, but you didn’t answer. Transfer me the money for the meds. Anything else? If not, I’m leaving."
Before he could say a word, she stepped back and turned to go—only to hear someone call her name.
