Chapter 222
Cecilia’s pov
The second I heard his voice, my spine went rigid like someone had flipped the “fight or flight” switch.
I turned slowly to find Sebastian standing in the doorway, rain dripping from his hair and soaking the shoulders of his black coat.
He looked like he’d walked straight out of a noir film–all shadows and silent brooding p>
His eyes met mine, unreadable as fog rolling off a mountain lake.
Still that maddening calm.
“I slept perfectly well,” I said with forced brightness, the kind reserved for family dinners and awkward office parties.
I grabbed for the tissue box on the coffee table like it was a lifeline, using it as an excuse to break our eye contact.
A few sheets in hand, I crossed the room and handed them to him.
“Your hair’s soaked,” I said, tone clinically polite. “Might want to dry off before you catch cold p>
“Thanks,” he said, accepting the tissues with a slight nod and casually patting his hair like he hadn’t just walked through a hurricane.
He sank into the couch, all long limbs and quiet confidence, and pulled out his tablet like he was settling in for a cozy night of reading contracts.
I retreated to the kitchen under the thin pretense of making hot chocolate. The universal balm for emotionally loaded mornings and bad weather. Or, in this case, both.
When I returned balancing three mugs like a caffeine-deprived barista, Sebastian was already neck-deep in whatever was glowing on his screen.
“Alpha,” I said, placing the mug within reach. “Thought you might want something warm. This may be helpful p>
He looked up, his gaze cool, unreadable.
“You don’t need to wait on me, Secretary Moore,” he said, voice smooth as glass and just as cold.
“Right. Of course,” I replied, taking a step back like I’d just completed a government-mandated act of kindness.
I handed Tang his mug next. He accepted it like it was pure gold and dove in like he hadn’t eaten in days.
Then, predictably, he ruined everything.
“Cecilia!” Tang blurted, face lighting up like he’d just had a brilliant idea. “Tell the boss what happened p>
I froze mid-sip. “Tell him what p>
“About Amara showing up! Last night, remember?” Tang said, completely oblivious to the rising pressure in the room. “You’re the one who ran her off, right p>
Jesus, Tang. Read the damn room.
I set my mug down slowly and turned toward Sebastian, who still hadn’t looked up.
“Yes,” I said evenly. “Amara showed up. Everyone else was still asleep. I’d gone downstairs to make something to eat, and…she just walked in p>
Sebastian didn’t react, flinch or even blink.
Silence wrapped around us like static.
Finally, he closed his tablet with a soft click and lifted his eyes to mine.
“Sawyer already filled me in,” he said, voice flat.
“Oh,” I nodded, reaching for my mug again like it could somehow shield me. “Great. Then we’re all caught up p>
Tang, bless his chaotic little heart, looked personally offended by Sebastian’s lack of outrage.
“She’s completely unhinged! You need to ban her from the building!” he insisted. “She might camp out on your fire escape again! And then Cecilia will be upset p>
Sebastian’s mouth twitched
“Then maybe we kidnap her,” he said, tone lazy, almost bored.”Tie her up. Dump her in some abandoned cabin in the woods. Let her scream into the trees for a year. She might come back… changed. “
Tang and I both blinked.
A year?
I couldn’t tell if that was dark humor or a felony in progress.
Tang, naturally, lit up like someone just handed him a mission.
“A year’s a bit much,” he said, completely serious. “How about just until we skip town? I’ve got rope in the trunk. Gimme ten minutes p>
He was already halfway off the couch, mug abandoned, eyes gleaming with purpose.
It was clearly a joke. A very dry, very Sebastian joke.
But the timing? Impeccably bad.
Because standing right there in the entryway, wearing an expression of pure horror, was Amara herself.
“You were going to kidnap me?” Amara’s voice wavered. She looked like she’d arrived in good spirits–only to walk straight into a conversation about her own abduction.
I scratched the back of my neck, suddenly wishing I could disappear into the couch cushions.
Talk about timing straight out of a bad soap opera.
“Who even invited you?” Tang snapped, completely unfazed. “You’re like a stalker with GPS and zero shame p>
Amara stepped further into the room, chin tilting up like armor.
“I left Denver, didn’t I? Am I not allowed to visit old friends? Or is that illegal now p>
“Oh, please. That’s not visiting, it’s lurking,” Tang shot back.
“You show up unannounced, uninvited, and somehow always right when things get peaceful. It’s a talent, honestly p>
Their voices rose, overlapping in a tangle of accusations and wounded pride.
Tang looked about two seconds away from grabbing the actual rope and turning his joke into a headline.
And then p>
“Enough p>
Sebastian’s voice sliced through the chaos like a scalpel through silk.
Two syllables. That’s all it took.
Tang shut up mid-rant. Amara visibly flinched.
Sebastian turned his gaze on her, and the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.
His expression wasn’t angry–it was worse. It was cold. Detached. Lethal.
“Are you really that bored with your life?” he asked quietly.
Amara opened her mouth. Closed it.
“If you’re that desperate for something to do,” he continued, “I have a task for you p>
She narrowed her eyes, wary now.
“What kind of task? Screaming into the trees until I find inner peace p>
Something flickered behind Sebastian’s eyes. Calculation. Strategy.
“Details will be provided once you’re in the car. Just say whether you’re in or not p>
Amara hesitated, fists clenched at her sides.
“Fine. I’ll go. But I want something in return p>
She lifted her chin. “When I come back, you owe me a day. Just you and me p>
“Done p>
Sebastian didn’t even blink. The speed of his answer made the room stutter.
He turned to Tang.
“Arrange a car. She leaves immediately p>
Amara opened her mouth, maybe to backtrack, but Sebastian had already looked away.
The conversation was over.
Tang practically skipped off to make the arrangements, smugness radiating off him like static from a dryer sheet.
Less than fifteen minutes later, a sleek black SUV pulled up outside.
Amara stormed out to meet it, still bristling, but she got in without another word.
I stood by the window, watching taillights vanish into the fog.
And something about it didn’t sit right.
This wasn’t just about getting her out of our hair.
Sebastian hadn’t made an empty threat. He had a real mission in mind. And he’d agreed to spend an entire day alone with her. Just like that.
I took a long sip of my now-lukewarm hot chocolate. It tasted flat.
Sebastian rose from the armchair, shoulders stiff beneath the fine weave of his sweater.
No words. No explanation. Just quiet tension.
He disappeared up the stairs, and I watched him go, a knot slowly tightening in my chest.
Whatever was weighing on him–it was heavy.