Rosalia — POV
"Hahaha! What an incredible duo."
"Boss, you and Miss Rosalia—each of you is more jealous than the other."
"What a pair."
"You can look now. Everyone's gotten dressed—don't worry. There's nothing your partner shouldn't see."
The laughter hit me like pebbles thrown against thin glass—sharp, annoying, impossible to ignore.
Cassel's subordinates—and the other people—were enjoying this far too much.
Cassel himself, however, remained silent.
The weight of his presence behind me was heavier than their mocking voices combined.
Only then did the full extent of the humiliation sink in.
Slowly. Painfully.
God.
I had acted like a child. No—worse. Like an irrational, territorial fool who let emotions override reason.
In front of everyone.
In front of his people.
My fingers curled involuntarily.
But then I felt it—Cassel's hand, steady and warm, still covering my eyes. Firm, protective.
As if he were shielding me from more than just sight.
