[BL] Bound to My Enemy: The Billionaire Who Took My Girl Chapter 229: The Menu and The Lie

NOAH

The black car climbed the winding roads toward the edge of the city, leaving the neon franticness of the business district behind for sothing altogether more ancient and quiet.

The restaurant was a fortress of understated power, a sprawling structure of glass and dark stone that seed to grow out of the cliffside itself.

It was the kind of place that didn’t need a sign. If you were ant to be there, you already knew the way.

The mont the car slowed, the choreography began. Uniford staff appeared as if they’d been materialized by the sheer force of Cassian’s arrival.

They didn’t just open the door; they perford an act of welco that made feel like I was stepping into a private sanctum rather than a place of business.

We were led through the ground floor, a cathedral of white linen, floating crystal chandeliers, and the hushed, rhythmic clinking of silver against bone china.

But we didn’t stop there. We were ushered upward to a first-floor terrace that opened directly into the night.

I stopped dead at the railing.

The view was a jagged, indigo silhouette of mountains against a sky that was currently bleeding from bruised purple into a deep, electric gold.

To the left, a natural waterfall caught the dying light, the water looking like molten rcury as it tumbled into the darkness. A cool, crisp breeze swept over the canopy, carrying the scent of pine and wet stone.

So this is what it feels like, I thought, my hands gripping the cool iron of the railing. To have enough money that a Monday evening looks like a masterpiece.

I felt like an intruder. I was wearing a suit that cost more than my first car, standing in a place where a single appetizer probably cost more than I could fathom, and I was doing it all because the man behind had decided he wanted to see eat. It was dizzying. It was unfair.

We were seated at a table so close to the edge that I felt like I could lean out and touch the mist from the falls. I stayed facing outward, unable to look away from the sheer scale of the landscape.

"Enjoying the view?" Cassian’s voice was a low, warm vibration. There was a tease in it, a rare, private softness that he only seed to use when the world wasn’t looking.

"I can’t help it," I admitted, finally turning to him. "It’s literally breathtaking. I didn’t know the city looked like this from up here."

Cassian slid a heavy, leather-bound nu across the table toward . "Do you like it that much?"

"Yeah," I said, opening the folder.

Then I saw the numbers.

I froze. I’d expected expensive, but this was a different language of wealth. The prices weren’t just high; they were arrogant. A single starter was listed at three digits. I flipped to the drinks column and closed the section imdiately, my heart doing a nervous little flutter.

I’m not looking at that, I told myself. The mountains are free. I will look at the mountains.

"We can co back," Cassian said, his voice casual, as if he were suggesting a trip to a coffee shop. "As many tis as you want."

I felt the heat climb my neck. I raised the nu, using it as a shield to hide the sudden, burning flush on my cheeks. "I doubt that’s going to happen."

"What do you an?"

The filter in my brain, usually so reliable, finally snapped under the weight of the day.

"You said it yourself, didn’t you? That you won’t be as available. That things are changing." I took a shaky breath, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. "Not that it matters. I just... I’m not expecting an encore."

The lie was so thin it was transparent. It sat on the table between us, shivering and obvious.

The silence that followed was brief, but it felt like the air had been sucked out of the terrace. I stayed behind my nu, staring at a description of wagyu beef that I could no longer see.

Then I heard the sound of a chair moving.

Cassian didn’t wait. He stood up, and I could hear his footsteps, slow, asured, around the table. I gripped the edges of the nu tighter, pulling it closer to my face. I could feel him stopping beside .

I felt the table shift. He didn’t sit in the chair next to mine; he sat on the edge of the table itself, his thigh inches from my arm, his presence a magnetic, overwhelming force.

"Noah," he said.

"I wasn’t done looking at the specials," I muttered, my voice muffled by the paper buffer.

He didn’t argue. He just reached out and took the nu. It was a single, smooth motion, the paper was gone before I could react. I reached for it, my hands grasping at empty air. "I wasn’t done—"

"Quite the expression," Cassian said, sliding the nu to the far side of the table, well out of my reach. He looked down at , a dangerous, knowing smirk playing on his lips. "For soone who doesn’t care."

"I don’t care!" I snapped, my frustration finally boiling over. "I really don’t. What you do with your ti is your problem. I have a life, Cassian. I have friends. It’s probably a good thing you’re going to be busy. I won’t be dragged around at your beck and call anymore."

Cassian didn’t look offended. He looked amused, which was infinitely worse. "Your words aren’t matching your expression, Noah. You look like you’re about to start a fire with your eyes."

"That’s nonsense," I said, though my voice lacked conviction.

"It isn’t that I won’t be around," Cassian explained, his voice dropping into a calr, more serious register. "It’s just that outside of work, there are things..."

His expression softened again, sothing quiet and aching settling in his eyes... words he couldn’t bring himself to say.

"... really really important, unavoidable things, that require my attention. I’m telling you this because I intend to make it work. I’m telling you so you don’t think the silence ans I’m gone."

My resolve, which I had spent all afternoon reinforcing with Mason, began to crumble like wet sand. The way he was looking at , like I was soone worth explaining things to, was more devastating than any argunt.

"There’s no need to explain," I cut him off, my voice small.