Chapter 231
Cecilia’s pov
“Just like that?” I whispered, voice strangled. “You’re suggesting we… team up to make a baby? Like it’s some kind of weekend project p>
He’d said it so casually–like suggesting we grab coffee or repaint the guest room.
Just tossed it out there as casually as discussing the weather.
Team up? For a baby?
A BABY.
Did he think babies happened through sheer mutual agreement, like signing up for a gym membership?
Sebastian lowered his newspaper, one brow arched. “Team up for what?” he asked, as if he genuinely hadn’t been listening.
Tang beamed. “To make a baby p>
I choked on air. Oh my God.
Sawyer, who’d only just recovered from his spoon-dropping episode, reached for his orange juice–only to splutter violently when Tang’s words registered.
He looked like he was trying to calculate how much therapy this conversation would require.
Sebastian, meanwhile, went quiet.
Not because it was absurd. But because it… wasn’t. Not to him.
Like he was actually weighing it–running some internal checklist about blood compatibility, pack politics, genetic viability.
After what felt like an eternity, he spoke.
“That’s not entirely my decision to make,” he said, his gaze shifting deliberately toward me.
I stared back, willing my face into something that wasn’t outright panic.
He sighed. “That’s not entirely my decision to make,” he said, gaze shifting deliberately toward me.
I met his eyes, unblinking.
“Don’t be so traditional,” I said, voice dry as bone. “Science has come a long way. I don’t need a mate to make a child anymore. Just good timing, a willing clinic, and maybe a turkey baster p>
The rustle of his newspaper stilled. Completely.
His fingers tightened slightly at the edge of the page, and he lowered it–just enough for our eyes to meet over the top.
His gaze wasn’t amused anymore.
I mentally high-fived myself. That’s what he gets for entertaining Tang’s ridiculous suggestion.
The breakfast table, which had been comfortably chaotic, suddenly felt… dense.
Like London weather–gray one moment, pouring the next, then unexpectedly blinding with sun.
Tang looked confused.
Sawyer shot him a look that said, in no uncertain terms: You sweet, naïve summer child.
After breakfast, we headed to the branch office.
Day two of the inspection. And just like that–I was famous.
Not the good kind.
By coffee break, people were “checking in,” dropping hints, and casually reliving my drunken antics like they were auditioning for open mic night.
The office rumor mill was in overdrive.
I had one response:
“Oh really? That’s unfortunate. I don’t remember any of that p>
Selective amnesia: still the best strategy in a PR emergency.
One “I don’t recall,” and the gossip line flatlined.
If they still don’t buy it? Not my circus, not my monkeys. I’m just here for the paycheck and the last slice of sanity.And just like that, I survived the day.
The next four days were just as packed.
Site inspections, asset inventories, operational briefings, financial reviews–Sebastian was in back-to-back meetings, presentations, and one-on-ones with senior leadership.
When the workday ended, the social obligations began.
Evenings were a blur of receptions, functions, and networking events.
Sawyer and I were exhausted.
In some ways, even more exhausted than the CEO himself.
The rest of the head office staff, having completed their assignments, got to explore London, take a break.
Sawyer and I? We were on the Sebastian Black Tour. No intermissions. No escape routes.
Honestly, I didn’t mind the chaos.
It kept me too busy for messy feelings, questionable crushes p>
and the minor detail that I’d apparently flirted with someone not even technically human.
By the time I got back to the villa each night, I barely had enough energy to shower before collapsing into bed.
On the plus side, I was sleeping like the dead.
And it hadn’t been a complete waste–at these events, I’d met a handful of useful contacts.
Saturday. Final day.
The branch office inspection was officially done.
The rest of the headquarters team was flying home that afternoon.
Sebastian, however, still had two engagements on the books: horseback riding at some aristocrat’s estate in the morning, and a vineyard wine tasting that evening.
We were originally scheduled to return tomorrow.
But this morning, out of nowhere, he said:
“I have a few things to take care of. You all should head back without me p>
A few things? Come on. That’s vague. Suspiciously vague.
I didn’t question it. Just nodded along with Sawyer and said, “Yes, Alpha p>
He hadn’t mentioned anything about staying behind. Not once.
And now, suddenly, plans had changed.
A quiet weight settled in my chest–but hey, he didn’t owe me an explanation. Right?
Still, the unease stuck.Like gum on the bottom of my shoe.
I nudged Sawyer with my elbow. “Any idea why he’s sticking around p>
He gave me a look. “If he didn’t tell you, why would he tell me? What, do you think I get daily status briefings from Alpha p>
I sighed. “No. I just figured… he seems to like having you around p>
Sawyer blinked. “Wait–he prefers me p>
He looked genuinely alarmed.
I rolled my eyes. “Not like that. Ugh. Don’t flatter yourself p>
He narrowed his eyes. “Pretty sure I won’t recover from that emotional rollercoaster p>
Classic Sawyer: mildly offended, fully dramatic.
Out in the paddock, Sebastian swung onto his horse like he was born in the saddle.
Tall. Sharp-boned. Unreasonably photogenic, even in rain-damp morning light.
The blond estate owner standing beside him looked like set dressing in comparison.
So what exactly was he staying for?
At lunch, our host laid out an absurdly fancy spread.
Sawyer and I joined–having politely turned down the horseback riding offer.
(We both valued our spines. And horses can smell fear p>
Midway through the meal, Sebastian’s phone buzzed.
The table was too long to catch the caller’s voice, but I did catch his reply:
“I’ll come alone. No one else p>
When he hung up, he looked up–right into my eyes.
Busted. I didn’t even try to pretend I wasn’t staring.
After lunch, he pulled me aside. “What’s wrong p>
I hesitated. Then asked, “What are you doing tomorrow p>
“That’s what’s got you all spaced out p>
I looked away, like it hadn’t been eating at me all morning.
He chuckled–and to my surprise, reached out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Since you’re clearly dying to know,” he said, “it’s just a last-minute networking thing. Boring as hell. I figured you could use the rest p>
His tone was easy. Rehearsed.
Too smooth.
But also… perfectly reasonable.
And if I pushed again, I’d just look clingy.
I nodded. “A networking event. Sure p>
“Want to come p>
“You already said I should head home. I’m just following orders, Alpha p>
He smiled, gave my shoulder a light squeeze. “You leave tomorrow, I’ll be back the next night. Barely 24 hours p>
I nodded again. “Right p>
Still. He was going alone. That part didn’t sit right.
Back at the villa, I must’ve looked half-dead because Sebastian only brought Sawyer to the wine tasting.
I used the quiet to run some errands–grabbed the things Harper begged me to bring, plus a few gifts for friends back home.
By the time I got back, the housekeeper had dinner waiting for Tang and me.
Halfway through the meal, the doorbell rang.
She’d been suspiciously quiet for days. Maybe someone really had taken her phone and grounded her.
“I got it,” Tang said, setting down his fork.