Chapter 26
Amara slipped into the guest room and shut the door softly behind her, her chest rising too fast, too shallow. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the latch.
Footsteps were closing in. There was no time.
Amara’s eyes darted and landed on a waitress in the room who was getting ready to step out, tray still in hand, frozen in shock. “Please,” Amara whispered urgently, already pulling the mask from her own face. “Wear this. Just for a moment p>
The waitress hesitated, then saw the fear in Amara’s eyes. She nodded. There was no time to change clothes. The waitress grabbed a heavy velvet cloak from the chair and wrapped it tightly around herself, pulling the mask on as Amara slipped behind the thick curtain near the wardrobe, pressing a hand over her mouth.
The door opened. Sebastian stepped in. His breath hitched the moment he saw the masked figure.
“Amara, darling. There you are,” he said hoarsely, taking a step forward. “What are you doing here? I have looked for you everywhere p>
The woman spun around sharply. “What are you doing here?” the waitress snapped, clutching the cloak tighter around herself. “I was changing. You pervert, get out p>
Sebastian froze, heat rushing to his face. “I… I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to intrude. You just… I thought you were…you resemble my wife p>
“Your wife?” the woman repeated, her voice cold, edged with something sharper. She tilted her head slightly, studying him through the mask. “Take a good look at me. Do I look like someone who would love a man like you p>
Sebastian stiffened. “I’m sorry,” he said again, more quietly. “I didn’t mean to p>
The waitress had seen the video and tended to seek some justice for Amara
“You act as you love her,” the woman cut in, her voice steady but burning underneath. “Yet you parade around with another woman. What do you want her for? To forgive you? To quietly endure it p>
Behind the curtain, Amara’s nails dug into her palm. Sebastian’s jaw tightened.
“Wait,” he said defensively. “You don’t know me. You don’t get to talk to me like that p>
The woman laughed softly, without humor. “I know enough,” she said. “You say you love your wife, yet you show up at a party meant to help me find a husband. Funny way of proving devotion, isn’t it p>
The words landed like blows. Sebastian opened his mouth, then closed it. For once, he had nothing.
“I do love my wife,” he finally said, quieter now, almost pleading. “I’ve always loved her.” Silence stretched between them. The woman turned away.
“You should leave,” she said flatly. “Before I call security, I’m not your wife.” Sebastian swallowed. “I’m sorry,” he murmured one last time. He turned and walked out. The door closed.
Amara sank against the wall, knees threatening to give way, tears burning but refusing to fall. Sebastian stopped just outside the corridor corner. He didn’t leave. His instincts screamed. That wasn’t her… but she’s here.
He leaned against the wall, eyes fixed on the guest-room door, heart pounding as he waited, desperate to see who would come out.
Amara finally stepped out from her hiding spot. The waitress, still clutching the heavy cloak around herself, watched her carefully.
“You… you okay?” she asked softly.
Amara gave a small nod, forcing a polite smile. “I’m fine. I just… want to go to my room, take off this dress, and sleep p>
“Thank you,” Amara added quietly, almost to herself, as she turned to leave.
“You’re welcome, Ms. Piers,” the waitress said, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “A man like him… he’s not worth your tears p>
Amara didn’t respond. She just stepped out, leaving the guest room behind. She didn’t even put her mask back on, she didn’t need it. She wasn’t going back to the party. She wasn’t going back to any of this.
But the moment her foot touched the hallway, he was there. Sebastian. As if he had been waiting. As if he always knew where she would be. “Amara… my darling,” he said, voice low and urgent, like a storm coiled inside him.
She froze. “Are you not tired… from hiding from me?” He added, his tone softened but edged with something dangerous, something desperate. “I missed you, baby. You made me go mad this time.” Amara’s body stiffened. Her mind raced.
Should she run? Could she? Or should she face him… once and for all?
The air between them thickened, heavy with unspoken words, old wounds, and a love that had survived betrayal and anger.
And in that frozen hallway, every heartbeat screamed that nothing would ever be the same.
Amara kept walking, heels clicking against the polished marble, the sound echoing like a metronome to her pounding heart.
Sebastian followed, his presence a shadow at her side, unrelenting, silent… until she stopped abruptly and turned, finally facing him.
“Is it… the video?” he asked, voice tight, eyes scanning her face for any sign of honesty.
“There’s nothing between us,” Seb added quickly, each word deliberate, trying to anchor her to the truth. “Between Elara and me… there’s nothing. I love you, Amara. I have always loved you, and you know that. You do know that, right, my love, you used to say actions speak louder than words, I have loved you not only with words but with all my actions, right p>
His words carried across the hall, catching the attention of everyone nearby. Staff froze mid-step. Party guests craned their necks. And most dangerously, Sebastian’s mother and Elara.
Madam Creed’s sharp eyes softened as realization hit. She had been wrong all along. Her son… was in love with the French heiress; her daughter-in-law is the famous French heiress. Seb truly loved the right woman. Suddenly, Amara was everything she wanted in a daughter-in-law
“Amara,” Madam Creed called out, her voice both commanding and gentle. “Where have you been? You are the French heiress. Why didn’t you tell us about who you were? You know Seb loves you and has been searching everywhere for you. This must be fate, the perfect match made in heaven; my son is truly lucky p>
Amara’s gaze swept over the faces surrounding them. Sebastian’s mother, the curious onlookers, Elara’s stiff frame, and she let herself breathe just a fraction.
“I can guarantee you my love, there’s nothing between Elara and me,” Sebastian added, softer this time, eyes locked on hers. Every syllable was carefully measured, laden with the sincerity she had longed for.
Amara narrowed her eyes, scanning him, searching for cracks. “Then are you telling me… I’ve been blind?” she asked, voice trembling but steady. “It’s all caught on video. How could that be fake p>
Sebastian opened his mouth to respond, but he couldn’t. Not here. Not with so many eyes, so many ears. Not with the weight of their scrutiny pressing down on them both.
The hall went silent, the tension so thick it almost had a taste.
Somewhere in the crowd, murmurs started to bubble, but Amara didn’t care. All she could see was him… the man who had said he loved her, betrayed her, and now, desperately, was trying to prove himself.
“Seb is such a two-faced jerk!” one guest muttered, loud enough for a few nearby to hear.
Julian, leaning quietly against the corner, watched silently, his eyes never leaving Amara. Every inch of her commanded attention. Every sharp breath, every controlled movement spoke of the woman she had become. And he was glad Amara decided to confront Seb.
“You people are despicable,” one guest said, stepping forward, voice calm but cutting through the chatter like a blade. “Now that you know she’s wealthy, you act all nice. As if you earned her respect p>
A murmur ran through the crowd.
“Yeah, exactly,” another guest chimed in, trying to add fuel. “He’s completely shameless p>
“Then what are you waiting for?” Madam Creed’s voice rang sharp from the side, pushing Elara toward Amara. “Get up there and admit it, you’re the one who seduced Seb p>
Amara stiffened, instinctively stepping back. But before she could respond, a shadow appeared beside her, Madam Pedro, her mother, tall, elegant, and radiating authority.
“My daughter doesn’t need your apologies,” Madam Pedro said, her voice rich with controlled fury. “And for the record she paused, letting the silence stretch, “Amara is single p>
The crowd shifted, murmurs rising again.
“That’s right,” Madam Pedro continued, raising her hand to command attention. “Every single man here might stand a chance with my daughter… except this man.” Her gaze fell deliberately on Sebastian, cold and unwavering.
Sebastian’s jaw tightened, his usual charm faltering under the weight of everyone’s gaze.
“I get that you’re mad,” Seb said, his voice nervous. “You’re already married… I mean, I’m your husband. How could you be single and… looking for another man p>
The room went still, the air heavy with tension. Amara’s eyes, however, remained locked on Seb, steady, unflinching. She didn’t need to speak. The silence, the gaze, the sheer force of her presence said it all.