Chapter 47

The flight to Shanghai had been long—thirteen hours in the air, though Cassian insisted on flying business class. Sienna slept only intermittently, her nerves flickering between the excitement of the trip and the heaviness of her body trying to recover from the time zone leap.

Jet lag was real.

Even with eye masks, hot towels, and Cassian's shoulder to nap on for part of the flight, her head still swam when they landed.

The energy of Shanghai was sharp and fast-moving, with sleek towers and glowing signage giving the city a pulse that buzzed under their feet the moment they stepped out of the airport.

Their hotel, The PuLi Hotel and Spa in Jing'an, was luxurious, contemporary, and unmistakably high-end. When they arrived, the staff greeted them with practiced warmth and efficiently brought up their luggage. Cassian, of course, had booked one room.

She blinked when the concierge handed her a single key card. "There's... just one?"

Cassian smirked. "I figured we wouldn't be needing two."

"Cassian," she warned.

"What? It's efficient."

She rolled her eyes but followed him into the elevator.

Their suite was stunning—dark wood accents, floor-to-ceiling windows with panoramic city views, and a large king-sized bed right in the center.

Cassian dropped his suitcase and stretched. "Come on, get dressed. We've got a meeting in less than an hour."

"You're the one who booked a single room," she muttered, already digging through her carry-on for a blazer.

He chuckled and disappeared into the bathroom.

—

The headquarters of HanRui Development Group was located in Lujiazui, Pudong—a glass-clad skyscraper that towered over the river, sharp and modern. They were greeted at the lobby by an assistant who bowed lightly and offered water bottles in frosted glass.

"Mr. Hayes, Ms. Caldwell, welcome to Shanghai," the woman said politely. "President Wen will meet you in the shortly."

When they entered, the Hanrui team was already seated. And at the head of the table stood the CEO—Wen Zhaoyu.

Young. Sharp. Unfairly attractive.

"He looks like those men in romance movies." She whispered as he was walking towards them. 

"How about me?" He asked incredolously.

Sienna giggled at him. "You were. Not right now with your egg head."

The moment Wen saw Sienna, he smiled like she was dessert.

"Mr. Hayes," he greeted first, offering a bow and handshake. "It is an honor. Your company has quite the reputation."

Cassian nodded. "Appreciate that, Mr. Wen."

Wen turned to Sienna. "And this must be your head engineer and project manager. Ms. Caldwell, I presume?"

She extended her hand. "That's right. It's a pleasure."

He took her hand gently, held it longer than necessary, and smiled wider. "The pleasure is certainly mine."

Cassian cleared his throat.

The meeting began.

Talks were formal and well-paced. Hanrui's staff spoke with clarity, showing respect but also confidence. Mr. Wen's English was flawless, and his tone throughout was warm, professional—with a frequent edge of flirtation aimed directly at Sienna.

Every time she smiled politely, leaned forward, or responded with interest, Cassian's gaze darkened.

He barely touched his pen.

Midway through a discussion on zoning laws and steel import tariffs, Wen leaned toward Sienna and said, "You speak Mandarin beautifully. Did you study abroad?"

Cassian's jaw ticked.

Sienna smiled. "A semester in PKU, years ago. It's a little rusty." She glanced at Cassian. Both of them attended that exchange program.

"It's lovely," Wen said, softer this time.

Cassian stood. "Excuse us for a moment."

He took Sienna's elbow and guided her out into the hallway.

"Cassian," she began, annoyed.

He turned on her. "Are you going to tell him to stop?"

"Stop what?"

"The flirting. It's obvious. And you're not exactly discouraging him."

Sienna folded her arms. "That's called basic diplomacy. We're here for a billion-dollar deal, not a pissing contest. If he wants to be charming, I can handle it. You're supposed to be professional."

Cassian clenched his jaw, stared at her for a long second, then exhaled slowly. "Right. Professional."

"Thank you," she said curtly, then turned back toward the meeting room.

He followed, reluctantly.

But the look he gave Wen Zhaoyu when they returned was sharp enough to cut glass.

Wen didn't miss the shift. In fact, he leaned back in his chair and smiled again—directly at Sienna. "If you have free time this week, I could show you the Bund. Or take you out to West Lake—if you enjoy more scenic things."

Cassian sat straighter, his voice clipped. "We should finalize the logistics for the New York vertical before the end of the day."

Wen turned his gaze to Cassian, that easy smile never leaving. "Of course. Business first." Then he looked back at Sienna and added, "But the offer stands, Ms. Caldwell."

Cassian said nothing—but the edge in his stare made his feelings perfectly clear.

Wen chuckled lightly and said, "I admire how composed you are, Mr. Hayes. Most wouldn't stay so professional in your position. A woman like her tends to stir reactions."

Sienna smiled sweetly and, without breaking eye contact, reached under the table and placed her hand on top of Cassian's. "That's how amazing my boyfriend is," she said lightly, the word deliberate.

Wen blinked at the word, clearly entertained rather than discouraged. "Then he's a lucky man. Shall we continue?"

They moved through the rest of the presentation with renewed focus, but Cassian remained tense beside her. Wen's eyes flickered her way a few more times, but his flirtation dulled to a murmur beneath the professionalism.

When they left the office, the air outside felt lighter—but Cassian's jaw was still tight.

"Four more days," he muttered. "We'll be seeing him again with the full investor board."

Sienna nodded, pretending not to notice how hard he was clenching his fists. "And you'll be just as composed then too, right... boyfriend?"

Cassian looked at her, and something in his expression softened completely. The edge in his shoulders melted as his lips curved—not into a smirk, but a real smile. A smile that reached his eyes.

Before she could say anything else, he leaned down and kissed her. Not hard or possessive. Just warm, lingering, like a silent thank-you for defending him, for choosing him—publicly.

When they pulled apart, still close, he whispered, "Now tell me... how do we get back to our hotel without me dragging you into the backseat of the car first?"