Chapter 188
Cecilia’s pov
I yanked the door open to find Tang leaning against the doorframe, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.
“Hey there, Cecilia!” Tang greeted me with a grin so bright it could’ve blinded satellites. “I’m here to pick up the boss. Heard you and Sawyer had a bit too much tequila last night, so I figured you probably shouldn’t be anywhere near a steering wheel. Thought I’d swing by and offer you a ride too p>
Oh sure. Just a total coincidence you’re parked outside my house at 7 a.m., right?
Before I could reply, a familiar silhouette emerged behind him–tall, composed, and carrying that slow, lethal kind of grace usually reserved for apex predators.
“Tang, you’re overstepping again,” Sebastian said, voice calm but with that razor-sharp edge that made people straighten up real fast.
Tang didn’t miss a beat. “Oops. My bad, boss.” Still smiling like he was allergic to shame.
I looked between them, deadpan.
My smile felt like it had been duct-taped to my face. “Come on in. Make yourselves at home p>
Because clearly, boundaries are just a myth around here.
Sebastian’s eyes lingered on me–too long, too intense, too loaded.
He stepped inside, scan-mode activated.
His eyes landed on the two other people in the room, and just like that, the temperature dropped ten degrees.
“Sebastian, join us,” Zane called out, all cheerful charm, patting the empty seat beside him.
Sebastian strolled across the room and took the seat like he owned the building.
My mom went full deer-in-the-headlights mode.
I looked around at this absolute circus of a morning and spotted my only escape route.
“I think my Amazon package just got delivered p>
I wasn’t even trying to make it sound convincing. I just needed out.
“Don’t mind me–carry on plotting your power dynamics or whatever this is p>
I grabbed my bag and made a beeline for the door.
But just as I pulled it open, a voice echoed from the hallway–sharp, angry, familiar.
“Stop following me. I don’t want your crap, and I sure as hell don’t want to hear you call me Dad p>
“Dad, I heard you and Mom just got back from vacation. I found this orchid for you–had to ask around a bit. It’s your favorite, isn’t it? I really hope you like it p>
“Get the hell out p>
My fingers froze on the doorknob.
What the hell kind of emotional landmine had I just stepped into now?
Standing outside my door were Xavier–and my father, VanDyck.
My brain short-circuited completely.
For two excruciating seconds, I debated my options: confront the idiot outside (Xavier), or slam the door shut, locking both him and my dad out, then turn to face the battlefield inside.
In the end, I chose neither… let the world burn.
“False alarm–turns out my Amazon package was already delivered,” I called over my shoulder, bolting like the house was on fire.
Mom wore an expression that screamed “whatever, I give up p>
The second they stepped into the living room and saw the crowd, both men came to a screeching halt.
Dad’s eyes widened. What is this? A town hall meeting p>
His gaze ping-ponged between Xavier and Sebastian like he was trying to solve a particularly unpleasant word problem.
Then came the real shock when he realized Zane Locke was also present.
Zane turned toward Xavier with a raised brow, recognition dawning. “And this charming gentleman is p>
“That would be Cece’s ex,” Mom said dryly. “A mistake that came with a marriage certificate p>
She looked like she wanted to bang her head against a wall.
I didn’t wait to see who threw the next punch–verbal or otherwise.
My social battery was completely drained somewhere between ’ex-husband with orchids’ and ’my boss in my living room p>
So I did what any self-respecting adult would do in a crisis: fled to the kitchen.
In the kitchen, I busied myself with the most urgent task I could think of: arranging store-bought cookies onto a serving tray like I was plating for the Queen.
Translation: I was avoiding the testosterone tornado in the living room at all costs.
Tang slipped in behind me, already digging into the snack drawer like he’d lived here for years.
“Cecilia,” he said through a mouthful of pretzels, “just say the word and I’ll drag that ex of yours out by his overpriced collar. Guy’s not even JV next to my Alpha p>
I handed him a coffee mug without looking up. “You are not helping p>
He took the mug, then casually eyed the tray of cookies like it was a peace offering from a neutral country.
“What are you doing,” I asked warily.
“Being useful,” he replied, and without warning, he grabbed the tray from my hands.
“Seriously?” I blinked.
He was already halfway to the door.
“I’ll deliver the snacks,” he called over his shoulder. “Keep the crowd calm. “
“Oh my God, Tang p>
But he was gone, marching straight into the living room with a tray of cookies.
Author’s pov
The tension in the Moore living room could’ve curdled cream.
No one spoke. No one moved. Everyone felt it–except Tang, who plopped cross-legged onto the floor like a golden retriever thrilled to be included.
Sebastian gave him a look that said, Please stop existing, but said nothing.
Then Xavier opened his mouth.
He smirked toward Sebastian, voice laced with disdain. “Must be nice–having enough money to buy loyalty. Or people p>
That was the final straw.
VanDyck snapped. He grabbed the nearest object on the table (magazine? coaster? didn’t matter) and hurled it across the room.
“You arrogant little bastard!” he exploded. “You scammed my daughter into marriage, treated her like garbage, and now you think you get to insult her p>
Xavier stumbled backward, hands raised. “I’m leaving, okay? I just came to see you and Mom p>
“GET. OUT p>
The door slammed so hard, it rattled the windows.
Cecilia appeared from the kitchen, where she’d been hiding behind a tray of cookies and a butter knife she was half-seriously considering as a weapon.
Her father stood in the center of the room, chest heaving, eyes blazing.
He looked less like a professor and more like someone freshly ejected from a bar fight.
“Dad, breathe,” she said, crossing to him. “He’s not worth stroking out over p>
“He’s always looked down on us,” VanDyck muttered. “Entitled, smug–just like the rest of them p>
Across from him, the two very rich men still occupying his couch–Zane Locke and Sebastian Knight–sat in awkward silence.
Esther Moore, finally emerging from shock, offered their guests a tight, practiced smile. “I apologize for the scene. We clearly haven’t been the most gracious hosts p>
Translation: You should probably leave now.
Sebastian stood, calm as ever. “No apology needed, Mrs. Moore. Wealth does strange things to people. Myself included p>
Zane jumped in, eager to smooth things over. “Yes, well said. But let’s not generalize–Sebastian here is clearly a respectful young man p>
Sebastian turned to him. “With all due respect, Mr. Locke, I’d prefer to earn your approval through actions, not flattery p>
Zane chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. “Good answer. Come on–we’ll get out of your hair p>
Both men knew when a retreat was the smartest strategy.
They said their goodbyes. Tang, blissfully unaware of everything, trailed after them like a loyal puppy.
Once outside, Sebastian turned to Zane.
“Mr. Locke,” he said mildly, “mind if I ask–are you really old friends with VanDyck Moore and his wife p>