Sunlight cut through the floor-to-ceiling windows like a blade, hitting Daniel's face with brutal intensity. He groaned and turned away from the light, his head pounding with the kind of hangover that felt like his brain was wrapped in barbed wire.
'What the hell happened last night?'
Memories came back in fragments. Jimmy's bar. The young couple. Blood on broken glass. A woman with dark eyes and an expensive car.
Daniel opened his eyes slowly, squinting against the morning light. The hotel room came into focus – white sheets, marble surfaces, everything too clean and perfect. He was naked under the covers, which wasn't unusual after a night of drinking and bad decisions.
But what was unusual was the woman sitting in the chair by the window.
Cassandra. That was her name. She was already dressed in a simple black dress, her dark hair falling over one shoulder as she read something on her phone. She looked perfect, like she'd been awake for hours.
She noticed him stirring and looked up with a gentle smile. "Good morning, darling. How are you feeling?"
Daniel sat up slowly, the sheet falling to his waist. His head felt clearer than it should have after all that whiskey, but something was off. The way she was looking at him, the way she called him darling like they'd been together for years instead of one night.
"I'm good," he said, his voice rough from sleep. "Just... confused about you calling me darling."
Her smile widened slightly. "You'll get used to it."
Before Daniel could ask what that meant, there was a knock at the door. Three sharp raps that echoed through the quiet room.
"That must be the food I ordered for your breakfast," Cassandra said, standing gracefully and walking toward the door.
'Food? She ordered breakfast?'
Daniel watched her move with that same confident stride from last night. This wasn't how hookups usually worked. Usually, there was awkward small talk, maybe coffee if you were lucky, then everyone went their separate ways. But Cassandra was acting like... like they were in a relationship.
She opened the door and spoke quietly to someone in the hallway. A moment later, she wheeled in a cart covered with a white cloth. The smell of bacon and eggs filled the room, making Daniel's stomach growl despite his confusion.
Cassandra pushed the cart to the side of the bed and lifted the cloth. Simple food – scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, orange juice, coffee. Nothing fancy, but it looked good.
Daniel stared at her, his expression clearly showing his suspicion. 'Did she poison it? Was this all part of some plan?'
When was the last time someone had served him breakfast like this? Been this... nice to him? His ex-wife certainly never bothered, and hookups didn't usually stick around long enough to order room service. The whole thing felt wrong, too considerate, too perfect.
Cassandra seemed to read his thoughts perfectly. She smiled gently and shook her head.
"I won't poison you," she said softly, her eyes never leaving his face.
'Love of my life? What the hell is she talking about?'
"I don't usually do this," she continued, "but I'll prove it to you."
She picked up a piece of bacon and took a bite, chewing slowly. Daniel watched her face carefully. For just a moment, her expression changed – like the food didn't taste right in her mouth, or maybe she just didn't like it. But the smile never left her face.
Daniel was about to refuse the food, to demand answers about what was happening, but his stomach growled loudly. He hadn't eaten anything since lunch yesterday, and the smell was making his mouth water.
He reached for a piece of toast, took a tentative bite, and swallowed. The taste hit him after a moment – buttery, warm, exactly what his hungover body needed.
"Eat up," Cassandra said, settling back into her chair. "You'll be late for work."
The words hit Daniel like a slap. Work. Reality came flooding back.
"Oh shit," he said, sitting up straighter. "I totally forgot. What time is it?"
"Seven-thirty," she said calmly.
"Fuck, I need to get dressed." Daniel looked around the room frantically. "Where's my suit? Where are my clothes?"
Panic started to set in. He had a nine o'clock server maintenance window, and if he was late again, it would give Richard more ammunition to use against him whenever the bastard needed tech support.
"Daniel, calm down," Cassandra said, her voice soothing.
She walked to the other side of the bed and opened a closet Daniel hadn't noticed before. Inside were three suits – all expensive-looking, all in his size.
"I got you a new one," she said, pulling out a charcoal grey suit. "Actually, there are a few options. Pick whichever you like."
Daniel stared at the suits, his mind trying to process what he was seeing. "How did you... when did you..." He paused, another unsettling thought hitting him. "How do you know my size?"
"I know everything about you," Cassandra said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
A chill ran down Daniel's spine. He wanted to ask what she meant, wanted to demand answers, but the clock was ticking and he couldn't afford to be late again. Not with the server maintenance scheduled for this morning.
He chose the grey suit without really thinking about it, then looked at her as he headed toward the bathroom.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked.
Cassandra's smile softened, and for a moment she looked almost vulnerable. "Because I'm your wife."
Daniel stopped walking. The words hit him like a physical blow, and he turned to face her fully, his mouth opening and closing without sound.
"Uh... when? How?" he finally managed.
The absurdity of it made him let out a nervous laugh. "You must be joking, right?" He looked around the room again, his paranoia growing. "Did my work colleagues put you up to this? They're always making jokes about my ex-wife."
He backed toward the wall, suddenly suspicious of every corner. "I might be able to... whatever they paid you." He looked around frantically for hidden cameras. "Where's the camera hiding?"
But Cassandra just stood there, looking at him with that calm, patient expression that was starting to unnerve him more than anger would have.
"We got married yesterday," she said simply.
"Yesterday?" Daniel's voice cracked. "No, no, that's not even possible. After work I went to Jimmy's bar and..." His voice trailed off as fragments of memory began to surface.
The memories came back more clearly now. The blood. The promise. The way she'd pressed her cut palm against his.
"We made a bond," Cassandra said softly. "Check your palm."
Daniel looked down at his left hand with growing dread. Where the cut from the broken glass should have been, there was now a thin scar in the shape of the letter C. It was large, unmistakable, and completely healed.
His hands started shaking. "What the fuck... what the fuck is this?"
"The C signifies my name," Cassandra said. "Cassandra."
She held up her own palm, showing him a similar scar in the shape of the letter D.
"And this is yours."
Daniel stumbled backward, his breathing becoming rapid and shallow. "No, no, no, this isn't real. This can't be real." His voice cracked as panic set in. "What did you do to me? What did you do to me!?"
"I know it's hard to believe," Cassandra said, her voice still gentle.
She walked to the nightstand and picked up a small knife – the kind used for cutting fruit. Without hesitation, she drew it across her forearm, opening a thin line of blood.
Daniel gasped and doubled over as pain shot through his own arm, in exactly the same spot. He looked down and saw a matching cut appearing on his skin, blood welling up just like hers.
"Oh God, oh God, oh God," he whispered, staring at the blood. His whole body was trembling now. "This isn't happening. This isn't fucking happening."
"Sorry, darling," Cassandra said, moving toward him. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
"GET AWAY FROM ME!" Daniel screamed, his voice breaking. "STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!"
He grabbed the suit with shaking hands and ran for the exit, but when he turned the handle, nothing happened. The door was locked.
"No, no, NO!" He threw his shoulder against the door, then started pounding on it with both fists. "HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME! SHE'S CRAZY! HELP!"
No response. The hallway was silent.
Daniel spun around to face Cassandra, his chest heaving, sweat beading on his forehead. "Please," he begged, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please, I don't know what you want from me, but just... just let me go. I won't tell anyone. I swear to God, I won't tell anyone."
Cassandra shook her head sadly. "You can't leave without bathing first."
Her voice was still gentle, still caring. "What if you're smelling? What will people think of me, letting my husband leave without proper care?"
Daniel stared at her, his mind reeling. He was trapped. Actually trapped. His voice came out small and defeated. "If I take a bath, you'll let me leave?"
"To work," she corrected with a smile. "Then yes."
Daniel hesitated, weighing his options, then nodded quickly. "OK. OK, fine."
He started toward the bathroom, but Cassandra caught his hand. He looked at her in shock, expecting pain or some kind of punishment.
Instead, she smiled and said, "I love you."
Daniel felt the weight of her stare, the expectation hanging in the air. Her expression made it clear that if he didn't say it back, there would be consequences.
"I... I love you too," he managed, the words tasting like bile in his mouth. His whole body was still shaking.
Her smile brightened. "Good. Now go get bathed."
Daniel walked toward the bathroom, looking back over his shoulder every few steps. Cassandra watched him go, that same patient smile on her face.
As he reached the bathroom door, he heard her say softly to herself, " My husband is so dramatic, so cute ."