Chapter 30
Cecilia’s pov
The yacht pulled away from shore, and Beta Sawyer and I returned to the deck.
Inside the cabin, Sebastian was the undisputed center of attention, handling the flattery with effortless grace. He responded with occasional slight smiles, seemingly unbothered by Amara’s presence.
Keith was pretty smooth at creating opportunities for his granddaughter. And Vivian… was nothing if not persistent.
She moved with practiced charm, always just within arm’s reach of Sebastian, always finding something to gush about—his drink, his cufflinks, the view.
It was a performance dressed as casual interest, but its transparency was almost painful.
Anyone with eyes could tell what she wanted.
You only had to watch the way her eyes lingered on him.
Too long.
Too often.
Sebastian kept things polite with her—neither cold nor overly friendly.
Amara stood beside him, and though she appeared composed, there was something about her… a fake smile that couldn’t quite hide her pain.
It was painful to watch.
As a woman, I could feel the bitterness beneath her facade. My eyes darted between the three of them, people-watching like some nosy neighbor.
Suddenly, Sebastian glanced in my direction.
My stomach dropped.
Too late to hide—he’d caught me staring with total fascination. The Alpha narrowed his eyes, as if he could read exactly what was going through my mind.
“Sawyer, is it cool if I go check out the front?” I asked, turning away nervously.
“No problem, go ahead. I’ll keep watch here,” Beta Sawyer said easily.
“Great. Just text me if anything happens p>
With that, I escaped on my high heels, feeling like I’d just dodged a major bullet.
I found a quiet spot at the front of the yacht with two chairs and settled down. The waves rolled beneath us as the city lights in the distance transformed into scattered golden specks against the hazy night sky.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to completely unwind—body and mind.
After enjoying the sea breeze for a while, I pulled out my old phone from a hidden compartment in my bag. Since arriving in Singapore, I’d bought a new phone with a new number for work purposes, keeping my old one switched off.
When I powered it up, over 100 missed calls greeted me.
There were calls from unknown numbers, my parents, Harper, other friends, former colleagues, and even business acquaintances.
I opened WhatsApp.
Harper had sent several messages. The earliest read: Don’t pick up, don’t respond, don’t believe anything—it’s all Xavier!
An hour later: Cecilia, where are you?
My parents had messaged too: Where did you go? Please come back!
Even Yvonne was asking: Where are you?
It took me forever to read through all the messages, and it seemed like everyone I knew was concerned about my whereabouts… Xavier, you absolute maniac!
I let out a tired sigh.
Closing WhatsApp, I found countless text and voice messages.
They started with calm inquiries about my location, gradually becoming more worked up, angry, and emotionally unhinged. The most recent voice message had been sent just five minutes ago.
His voice was low, hoarse, and choked with sobs, barely coherent.
“Babe, I screwed up, I truly know I messed up big time. I’m a piece of shit, I should just die, I’m so sorry… Please give me one more chance… Do whatever you want to me, take my life if you need to… Take all the time you want, I’ll wait for you at home… I only made one mistake, you can’t… you can’t write me off like this p>
I quickly turned off the phone again.
As if waiting even one more second would allow that pathetic, crying mess on the other end to drag me back into hell.
Even though Xavier wasn’t my true mate, we had shared eight years together. The bond might not have been destined by the Moon Goddess, but it had been real.
I sat there for who knows how long.
Until Beta Sawyer called, asking me to head to the second level of the yacht.
I made my way up.
The second level was dedicated to entertainment, equipped with a swimming pool, karaoke room, home theater, card room, indoor golf course… it had it all.
This was purely for kicking back.
Beta Sawyer informed me they were playing poker in the card room.
I smiled knowingly—wealthy businessmen really loved their expensive games.
We found seats and grabbed some sweets.
About an hour later, Sebastian called, wanting us there.
Beta Sawyer and I hurried over.
The card room was thick with cigar smoke. Wealthy men sat around an oval poker table—some winning with smug grins, others losing with bitter faces. Chips were piled on the table, a sexy dealer was dealing cards, and waiters circulated with red wine, champagne, and cigars. With calls of “I’m in” and “I fold,” they were living the high life.
Sebastian wasn’t smoking. A glass of champagne sat beside him, and his cool vibe seemed to exist in a different dimension from everyone else.
Judging by his chips, he was doing really well.
Amara, seated beside him, appeared wasted, supporting her head with one hand, looking out of it.
“Help Ms. Amara outside. She’s had way too much,” Sebastian commanded, his tone even.
Beta Sawyer and I stepped forward to assist.
“I’m totally fine,” Amara pushed our hands away.
We tried several times, but she kept fighting us off.
“Ms. Amara Beta Sawyer hesitated, not wanting to get handsy.
Figuring it would be less weird as another woman, I wrapped my arm around her waist to help her up.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” she snapped.
As if I’d crossed some major line, Amara violently shoved me away. Thankfully, Beta Sawyer caught me from behind.
I was totally taken aback by her reaction.
Everyone in the room turned to look.
Sebastian’s expression went cold. He stood, personally helping Amara from her chair, then said over his shoulder, “Take over for me p>
Honestly, I wasn’t even sure which of us he was talking to.
But when Beta Sawyer didn’t respond, I did.
Sebastian escorted Amara out of the card room.
Beta Sawyer gave me a worried look, thinking this was far beyond my capabilities and he should handle it.
Before he could speak, I had already confidently taken my seat.
I checked my cards, then the community cards.
Playing it safe would be simple—just fold every hand. But I was standing in for Sebastian now, and folding constantly would make him look bad.
Guaranteeing wins, however… that was a pipe dream.
I quickly came up with a plan.
On the surface, I appeared calm and collected, looking like an experienced player.
After half an hour of play, I started cautiously—checking, folding, calling, and only raising modestly with good hands. My approach was deliberately low-key. But as the game progressed, I got bolder, placing larger bets. After winning several hands, I became more and more confident. When I saw the potential for a royal flush, I was tempted to go all-in.
Behind me, Beta Sawyer made a choking sound—something between a cough and a groan.
I didn’t even turn around.
I could practically feel his panic.
“Cecilia,” he said, voice strained, “why don’t you go find the Alpha? I’ll take over here p>
“No p>
My fingers tightened around the chips. I wasn’t ready to bail. Not yet.
“End of discussion,” he cut in, his smile so forced it looked painful. “Just go p>
I finally stood, taking one last longing look at my cards.
As I walked out, I could feel the leering gazes of several wealthy men following me.
Just some hot secretary, they likely thought.
I stepped out of the card room.
Thinking about Sawyer’s suggestion, I couldn’t help but smile… Sebastian was alone with Amara right now—only a complete idiot would interrupt them at this moment.
Of course, I knew this was just Sawyer’s excuse.
I grabbed a bottle of water and headed toward the stairs leading to the third level, feeling dizzy and needing some fresh air.
Stepping onto the thir659382 d-level deck, I approached the circular sofas. As I turned, I was completely unprepared for what I saw—two figures making out. Sebastian had his back to me, while Amara stood on tiptoe, her arms wrapped around his neck p>
Holy shit!
I choked on my water.