Chapter 260
Cecilia’s pov
I couldn’t help but laugh at my mom’s final comment.
Was this really what I was destined for—falling for a man from a world I never thought I belonged to?
I leaned into her comforting embrace, the kind I’d known all my life.
“I’ve got the best parents in the world. ” I murmured.”That’s real wealth p>
Her arms tightened around me, fingers brushing through my hair in that familiar rhythm that always calmed me. But I could feel her hesitation, the weight of all the things she wasn’t saying.
Then her expression shifted, darkening ever so slightly.
I watched the worry lines deepen around her eyes, and guilt twisted in my chest. Marriage to Sebastian? Impossible. But… breaking things off?
Just the idea left a hollow ache in my chest.
This wasn’t supposed to become anything permanent. It was chemistry—intense, addictive, but temporary. That was the plan.
But walking away from him now didn’t feel like self-preservation.
It felt like tearing out something vital.
Still, I knew better.
We were from different worlds literally.
He was a born Alpha, a wolf tied to a legacy of power and bloodlines.
I was human. And I’d already tried this before. Once.
A human tangled in a wolf’s world.
A marriage that cracked under pressure, under difference, under everything I hadn’t been prepared for.
I’d barely survived that fall.
And I’d promised myself: never again.
But then there was him.
Sebastian.
And no matter how hard I tried to hold onto logic, my heart kept slipping through my fingers.
Mom finally broke the silence.
“Sweet talk won’t save you,” she said flatly. “I’m watching. Either step up or step away. No more excuses p>
I looked at her.
I wanted to say: I know. I am stepping up. Just not all at once.
So I nodded.
“Okay p>
Mom didn’t leave until mid-afternoon.
By the time the door closed behind her, I felt like I’d just finished a four-hour job interview with zero chance of a callback.
That evening, Sebastian showed up right on cue.
Not at his thouse. Not upstairs where he actually lived.
He came straight to the 13th floor. To me.
I heard the knock and groaned into my pillow. I was still curled up in bed, emotionally drained, physically stiff, and mentally fried.
I dragged myself out of bed, every muscle protesting, and shuffled barefoot across the floor to answer the door.
The moment I opened it, he pulled me into his arms and carried me to the couch.
“Still sore?” he asked, voice low and warm. “Did you use the ointment p>
His hand moved toward my stomach.
I stiffened.”Yeah p>
He arched a brow.
“Really? Let me check p>
“Can we not?” I muttered, face heating up.
He started rubbing small circles on my abdomen anyway.
“I caused it, so I’m responsible. Besides, it explains why last night got… a little out of hand p>
I winced at the memory.
Okay, fine. I’d been… enthusiastic too. Definitely a two-way street.
Suddenly remembering something, I slipped off his lap and rushed to the bathroom.
I snapped a photo of the diffuser and sent a voice message to Yvonne.
“Seriously, what kind of aromatherapy oil is this p>
Her reply came almost instantly.
“Haha! You used it? That stuff’s basically like pheromone rocket fuel. They call it’the passion enhancer p>
I stared at my phone.
“Thanks a lot,” I muttered.
It wasn’t an enhancer—it was a biological weapon.
We were already flammable. That thing poured gasoline on everything.
Apparently, Yvonne was at the mall.
She sent another voice note, laughing.
“Wait…did you use it with Sebastian p>
I didn’t reply.
Behind me, Sebastian appeared and plucked the bottle from my hand.
His jaw tightened.
“Yvonne gave you this?” he asked.
“What if someone else had shown up instead of me p>
“Like who p>
“Alpha Xavier p>
“He doesn’t even have access to this floor p>
“Harper p>
I gave him a look.
“She’s a woman p>
“Still risky p>
“I’m taking this,” he said, putting the diffuser in his pocket.
Fine. If I’d known what it did, I never would’ve used it.
I walked back to the bedroom and flopped onto the mattress.
Sebastian followed and sat beside me.
“What do you want for dinner? I’ll make something p>
“Whatever. I’m not picky p>
“Are you mad about the diffuser p>
“No. I’m just… exhausted p>
I glanced at him.
“You just got back from a business trip. Shouldn’t you go see your mom p>
“I will. Later p>
“Oh p>
He studied me for a second, then asked quietly,
“You still haven’t forgiven me for that night, have you p>
I heard him. Loud and clear.
But I didn’t answer right away.It wasn’t that I didn’t know what to say.I just wasn’t sure saying it would make anything better.
My mom’s voice echoed in my mind like a ticking clock: Break it off or commit. No in-betweens.
Simple words, impossible choice.
If I told Sebastian, he’d probably say “Let’s get married p>
And then the Blacks would lose their minds.
What followed would either be an engagement with a war clause or a breakup with collateral damage.
I didn’t want either.
What I wanted—wasn’t peace or clarity.
It was time. But time felt like a luxury I couldn’t afford anymore.
So I straightened my shoulders and gave him a look.
“That night?” I said evenly. “It’s done. I was mad. Now I’m not. Let it go p>
He didn’t push. Just nodded, then reached over and gently squeezed my hand.
That quiet, steady patience of his—it was comforting and maddening all at once.
“What would you like to eat?” he asked.
“Liam stocked the fridge. I can cook, or call him if you want something that doesn’t come with a smoke risk p>
I rattled off a few things without thinking too hard.
“Something simple. Soup. Pasta. Whatever doesn’t involve a fire extinguisher p>
Sebastian stood, shrugged off his jacket, and draped it over the edge of the bed.
Then he turned toward the door.
I hesitated.
Then called out.
“Sebastian p>