❝let's just say, i'm like the bodyguard
of master strange.❞ she casually
explained to the kid. ❝so, you're
like happy hogan? but with magic
powers?❞ the boy asked innocently.
cass...
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𝗦𝗜𝗫: 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗦𝗔𝗩𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗘
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CASSANDRA MASON WAS dressed to kill.
Her stiletto heels clicked against the wooden floor. Each brisk stride echoed through the corridor, announcing her arrival. The woman wore a navy one-shoulder jumpsuit that featured a black textured belt, diamond earrings and a leopard print clutch because she was Cassandra and will always be dressed properly even when the world is already ending.
If she would be asked to describe how she felt at that moment in three words, it would be: powerful, feminine, and poised.
With Run the World by Beyoncé blasting through her earphones, she felt she was ready to take the world by storm.
She patted her high bun, moving her head to the side to feel if it was tightly secured. Actually, she wanted to wear a long gown since they were attending a charity night gala, but then she decided not to for the reason that she needed to roam around the venue and supervise everything. Checking herself at the wall mirror hung on the wall, she smirked at the sight of her striking red lips. Of course, her look would never be complete without that.
A second later, she came down the stairs of the London Sanctum and honestly, she felt like she was in some runway and that thought made her laugh lightly. She let her gaze sweep across the main foyer and her lips curled into a grin when she saw Stephen walking in. He was dressed in the classic three-piece suit she sent to his room that morning. She removed her earphones and paused her music to greet her date for the evening.
"Wow," breathed out Stephen, his eyes sparkling, almost as if they were actually emitting sparks. His suit brought out the beauty of his eyes and she wanted to pat her shoulder for that victory. "You look ravishing."
"Thank you, Stephen. You look very handsome." Her eyes then slid down to his hands and she furrowed her eyebrows when she saw he was wearing black leather gloves. She looked up at him and wordlessly pointed to his hands, silently asking for an explanation.
"Uh, you know, to cover the..." he tried to expound, but then sighed. Cassandra understood what he meant. He wanted to hide the surgery scars that ran down each of his fingers and down the back of both his hands. She slowly entwined their fingers, letting her palm feel the warmth of his leather gloves.
"We should, sweetheart... if you don't want to be late."
Letting out a chuckle, they exited the New York Sanctum and rode a cab to reach Harlem. They directed the driver to drop them at the backdoor of the venue, not wanting to be bombarded by the paparazzi. Cassandra felt Stephen place his hand gently on her lower back as if to guide her and she locked arms with him. They entered the building and the event coordinator grinned at the sight of the grand ballroom in front of her. As soon as she heard the Jazz band playing softly in the background, Cassandra knew everything was going well.
