Chapter 232
Cecilia’s pov
I heard heavy footsteps approaching the dining room, but didn’t look up.
Still chewing, I kept my pace deliberately slow, convinced it was just Amara returning from whatever drama she’d stirred up this time.
Mentally, I was already queuing up all the choice words I planned to throw her way.
But instead of Amara’s signature entrance–high heels, high drama–two strangers walked in.
British. Obviously. Painfully so.
The man had golden hair and piercing blue eyes, his features so precisely carved it was borderline suspicious.
He was pale as porcelain, like nobility or a vampire. Something about him radiated a quiet, curated sadness. Like a man who owned too many limited-edition fountain pens.
The woman beside him was stunning in a different way–chestnut hair that shimmered in the light, cheekbones sharp enough to file a lawsuit, and legs that went on forever.
She moved with the unconscious grace of a runway model.
They both wore that kind of understated wealth that whispered old money and private boarding schools.
And they were staring directly at me.
Not in a rude way. More like I was a modern art piece they couldn’t quite decide if they “got p>
I set my fork down and glanced at Tang, who had already returned to his meal like nothing happened.
“Who are they?” I asked quietly.
“Friends of Alpha,” he mumbled, mouth full.
Of course they were. Sebastian never did low-key–and neither did anyone in his orbit.
With Sebastian absent and Tang clearly voting himself off hosting duty, that left… me.
Fantastic.
I stood to greet them, pasting on my best I’m-totally-not-weird smile.
“Hi there p>
The woman stepped forward, beaming, and extended a hand.
“Hello! I’m Evelyn p>
I shook her hand, trying not to feel like a hobbit shaking hands with a gazelle.
“I’m Cecilia p>
So this was her.
Evelyn.
Supposedly Sebastian’s soulmate, according to Amara, who couldn’t shut up about it.
And if she was telling the truth… well. I could see why Sebastian might’ve looked twice.
Not that I cared. Obviously.
“Cece,” she repeated warmly, then reached out and gave my arm a little squeeze, like we were old sorority sisters instead of complete strangers.
I blinked.
Okay. Personal-space violation, aisle one.
I took a subtle step back, trying to play it cool while my brain caught up with the unexpected contact.
Then I turned to greet her companion and was hit with a look so cold it could’ve flash-frozen the room.
If Evelyn was a cozy fireplace in a ski lodge, this guy was the glacier outside.
“This is my fiancé, Vance,” she said cheerfully.
“Nice to meet you,” I offered politely.
Vance gave what might’ve been a nod–or maybe a neck twitch–then turned and walked off without a word.
Classic aristocratic energy: speak only when absolutely necessary, and even then, preferably not.
Well then.
What had I done to piss off His Royal Highness in the first three seconds?
Evelyn draped an arm around my shoulders, bending down to my height.
“Don’t mind him,” she stage-whispered. “Vance is always like that p>
“The Alpha isn’t home,” I said, keeping it neutral. “Have you contacted him p>
I already knew the answer. If they had, Sebastian would’ve warned me.
“We were having dinner nearby and figured we’d drop in,” Evelyn said breezily. “Haven’t had a chance to let him know yet p>
“I see p>
I led her to the living room, where Vance sat perched on the edge of the sofa like he was auditioning for a royal oil painting, posture stiff, expression thunderous.
Evelyn, meanwhile, beamed like human sunshine.
Talk about opposites attracting.
This was the North Pole dating the Sahara.
After the usual pleasantries, I escaped to the kitchen under the noble excuse of hot chocolate and a quick call to Sebastian.
He went silent for a few seconds after I mentioned his surprise guests, then said he’d be back as soon as possible.
Armed with two mugs, I returned to the living room.
Leaving guests alone felt rude, so I sat back down and braced myself for what quickly became The Evelyn Show–starring her, featuring me.
“Did you know,” Evelyn leaned in like we were old friends swapping secrets, “Sebastian was insanely popular in high school? Boys, girls–you name it. Everyone was head over heels for him p>
She grinned. “But he never dated anyone. Not once. Vance and I were convinced he was secretly gay but too shy to come out p>
She gave a dramatic sigh, clearly enjoying the memory. “So one summer at camp, I introduced him to this adorable guy. Super sweet. Thought I was doing him a favor p>
Evelyn rolled her eyes. “Sebastian didn’t speak to me for two weeks. Vance either p>
I nodded slowly, trying to keep my expression neutral while my brain caught up:
Everyone crushed on Sebastian? Not exactly shocking.
Never dated anyone? Okay p>
But Amara clearly had feelings for him. Was that one-sided?
And Vance…why had he been mad about Evelyn playing matchmaker?
What was that about?
I glanced at him, trying to piece things together.
Catching my look, Vance suddenly snapped, voice sharp as a switchblade.
“You don’t even love him p>
I nearly choked on my hot chocolate.
“Excuse me–what p>
The accusation hit like a sniper shot.
Evelyn didn’t flinch.
“Oh, don’t be dramatic, darling. You’ll scare Cece p>
“She’s heartless,” Vance muttered.
“Sebastian prefers it that way p>
“You’re both heartless p>
“Sweetheart, I swear, if you keep this up, I’ll slap some sense into you p>
Vance shut up.
I sat frozen, mug halfway to my lips.
Was this normal for them? Or just… aristocratic emotional warfare?
The sound of the front door opening cut through my confusion.
Sebastian had returned.
“Sebas!” Vance practically launched himself across the room.
Meanwhile, Evelyn didn’t so much as twitch. She stayed put, offering a lazy little wave like royalty acknowledging a loyal subject.
Sebastian, rain-damp and breathtakingly composed, handed his jacket to Sawyer, greeted everyone with a nod, and then–his gaze paused on me. Just for a second.
Vance leaned in close, whispering something with the urgency of someone reporting a national emergency.
“Let’s talk in my study,” Sebastian said, calm as ever.
“Yes. Absolutely,” Vance said, already falling in step behind him without hesitation.
That look in his eyes p>
It wasn’t just admiration. It was full-blown, laser-focused adoration.
Watching him trail after Sebastian was like watching a cat hear a tuna can being cracked open. Good lord.
So Evelyn was supposed to be “the one who got away p>
From where I was sitting, it looked a hell of a lot more like Sebastian was the one Vance had never stopped chasing.
I glanced around–Evelyn was calmly sipping her drink, Sawyer was dutifully drying the jacket like a valet, and Tang hadn’t looked up from whatever boss fight he was losing.
Was I the only one picking up on this?
Was my emotional radar on overdrive, or were they all just spectacularly oblivious?
Apparently, my face gave me away, because Evelyn tilted her head, concern flickering in her eyes.
“Cece, are you feeling okay? You look a little pale p>
“No, I’m fine,” I said quickly.
“Is it about tomorrow?” she asked. “Worried Sebastian might get hurt p>
I blinked. “Hurt p>
She smiled, like she was trying to be reassuring. “Don’t worry. We’re going with him p>
My stomach dropped.
Wait…what danger?