Cecilia’s pov
The lunch hour arrived with the tension of a drawn line in the sand.
Amara appeared at my office door, her designer suit immaculate, her smile polished to a mirror shine.
"Join for lunch?" she asked, using that honeyed tone she reserved for people she wanted sothing from.
I glanced up from my computer. "Sure."
But before I could even close my laptop, a deep voice sliced through the room--flat, final, and unmistakably in charge.
"She’s already committed."
Both Amara and I turned.
Sebastian stood at the door, posture relaxed but unmistakably alpha, his expression stone-serene, the kind you couldn’t read unless he wanted you to.
His presence filled the space--shoulders squared, one hand casually in his pocket, as if he hadn’t just walked in to plant a flag.
Behind him, Beta Sawyer managed a diplomatic half-smile, the kind you wear when you’re watching a train wreck in slow motion but can’t look away.
"Oh," Amara recovered quickly, her voice climbing half an octave.
"I didn’t realize Cecilia had a business lunch scheduled. She really should’ve ntioned it."
Then, turning to with a smile that belonged on a politician’s campaign poster:
"You should’ve told you had plans, darling. I wouldn’t have dropped by unannounced."
I almost laughed.
Right. Because this wasn’t a drop-by. It was a full-scale PR stunt staged for the in-house gossip network.
Sotis silence said more than a headline.
So I said nothing.
Sebastian’s glacial stare softened just slightly when it landed on .
"It was a last-minute call," he said, voice still laced with command.
"Secretary Moore, you’re with ."
No room for debate. No room for anyone else.
Amara’s expression turned tragic--the kind of heartbreak you’d expect to see on a soap opera, all glassy stares and engineered fragility.
Sebastian didn’t even look her way.
The tension in the room thickened until I could practically taste it.
"Ahem." I cleared my throat, unable to stomach another second of this emotional theater.
Rising from my chair, I turned to Amara with professional courtesy--the kind you use when you’d rather slam the door but choose not to give them the satisfaction.
"Special Assistant Amara , another ti perhaps."
The chairman had just appointed her as his special assistant.
Amara had gone from regional manager to personal aide to the most powerful man in the company.
A promotion dressed as a favor, wrapped in family ties and boardroom politics.
It struck --how many years had I spent clawing my way up from nothing, only to be shuffled around like a pawn in soone else’s endga?
Even at the branch office, the deputy manager had orchestrated my removal.
Anyone else would’ve been demoted. Maybe fired.
But not Amara.
Not when Luna Regina was her godmother.
She didn’t just fail upwards; she was catapulted by nepotism, landing squarely in the lap of power.
And ?
Still pretending the ga wasn’t rigged.
"Tomorrow then," Amara conceded gracefully, recognizing her tactical disadvantage.
We walked out of the office together.
Sebastian and Beta Sawyer had already disappeared, presumably taking the elevator down ahead of us.
When the elevator arrived, Amara said she needed to go out too, so we stepped in together. Standing side by side in silence was excruciating.
As we passed the 18th floor, Amara suddenly broke the silence. "Secretary Moore," she said, her eyes finding mine in the mirrored wall, "I hope you don’t resent because Sebastian and I were once in love."
*Resentnt?* Wasn’t that emotion exclusively in your repertoire?
"Oh, not at all," I replied with sugary sweetness. "You said it yourself--’once.’ I once loved another man too. He’s buried and at peace. Occasionally a ghost of mory drifts by, but I’ve learned to ignore the echoes. So please, don’t burden yourself. Stay positive."
Amara froze, her face hardening like cent. Her chest rose and fell with controlled anger.
I smiled innocently, as if I hadn’t just verbally backhanded her. When the doors opened, I waved cheerfully. "See you tomorrow!"
The mont I stepped out, my smile vanished. I muttered "idiot" under my breath as I walked away.
All this talk about love and past relationships--if soone stops loving you, you should stop loving them twice as hard.
Show them what real indifference looks like.
Sotis that’s exactly what makes them co crawling back... like that dog Xavier.
Though I couldn’t say for sure if Sebastian played by those sa rules.
I approached the waiting car and slid into the passenger seat. Beta Sawyer pulled away from the curb.
Checking the rearview mirror, he grimaced. "Holy shit, is she... is she crying back there?"
His eyes cut sideways to , sharp with accusation.
Like I’d personally reached into Amara’s chest and wrung out her tear ducts.
I held up both hands, palms out. "Don’t give that look. I was practically serving as her human handkerchief in there."
His eyebrow arched. "Yeah? You sure you didn’t bite her first?"
I huffed. "I swear on every therapy podcast I’ve ever listened to--I was a model of compassion."From the back seat, Sebastian let out a sigh--sharp, deliberate.
"Charming," he said dryly. "If I’d known this ride ca with front-row seats to unresolved sexual tension, I’d have brought popcorn."
The car went dead silent.
I stared straight ahead.
Beta Sawyer suddenly found the windshield fascinating.
Today’s lunch eting only required Sebastian’s presence.
Beta Sawyer was just playing chauffeur, and I was only here because Sebastian had seen Amara harassing and decided to bring along.
The car pulled up to a sleek, glass-fronted corporate estate on the outskirts of the city.
Even from the curb, I could see a minimalist courtyard dotted with sculpted trees and a reflecting pool that looked like it belonged in an architectural magazine.
"Find sowhere to wait," Sebastian instructed as he stepped out of the car.
Beta Sawyer and I both mumbled our acknowledgnts.
Inside, Sebastian was respectfully escorted away by a middle-aged man, while Beta Sawyer and I followed a young woman in a tailored suit to a separate area.
We were seated in a private booth , sunlight spilling across the white-linen tablecloth.
After a few minutes, the waitress returned with a spread of grilled salmon, steak frites, roasted vegetables, and a basket of warm sourdough--the kind of lunch that scread business eting without saying it outright.
She topped off our water glasses and slipped away without a word.
I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice. "This lunch wasn’t on today’s schedule. Soone must have contacted him directly. Any idea who we’re dealing with?"
"No clue," Beta Beta Sawyer said, shaking his head.
"You’re remarkably uninford for a Beta," I teased.
"Ask him yourself later."
"I don’t ask questions I’m not supposed to know the answers to."
That was a line I didn’t cross. Not with Sebastian.
Once those lines got fuzzy, everything else fell apart.
If he wants inford, he’ll brief . If not, it’s not my lane. Professional boundaries aren’t complicated.
Beta Sawyer chuckled. "I see why people like having you around, Cecilia. You’re low-maintenance--no drama, clear boundaries, always know when to leave."
"I may not know who’s behind that door," he added, "but I did catch sothing about a business association."
"An association?"
"Yeah. Not sure which one yet. He was on a call in the car. Said he’d loop us in later."
I nodded, thoughtful.
Sebastian had suddenly approved funding for the Shadow Pack project yesterday.
Now he was eting with so mystery group?
Sothing was brewing. And I didn’t like not knowing what.
We lingered over lunch for about an hour.
When we stepped out onto the sidewalk, Sebastian erged from the adjacent building--alone.
Beta Sawyer and I spotted him imdiately and moved to fall in behind.
But Sebastian stopped short and turned.
"Take a cab back to the office," he said to Sawyer. "I have another stop to make."
Beta Sawyer handed him the keys. "Yes, Alpha."
Then he took off like soone had lit a fire under him.
I watched him practically sprint away and barely stopped myself from shouting,
"You’re not escaping a zombie horde, Sawyer! You just had steak!"
Sebastian reached out and tapped the back of my head. "Planning to swear blood brotherhood with him?"
I rolled my eyes. "You didn’t have to be an. It’s not exactly easy to catch a cab around here."
He’s my battlefield buddy. My lunch comrade. Show so respect.
"I didn’t eat a single bite," Sebastian said coolly.
I pressed my lips together, biting back a smile. "Well... want to find sowhere else?"
He guided into the front seat of the car.
When the doors clicked shut, he turned toward , eyes dark and unreadable.
"Would you join for anything I wanted to taste, Cece?"
My fingers froze on the seatbelt.
I kept my eyes on the dashboard.
"Depends what you’re craving," I said, hoping my voice didn’t sound as breathless as I felt.
He didn’t answer right away.
Just stared at for a second longer than necessary--like a wolf deciding if the rabbit would run.
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