Cecilia’s pov
"Just like that?" I whispered, voice strangled. "You’re suggesting we... team up to make a baby? Like it’s so kind of weekend project?"
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 agreent, like signing up for a gym mbership?
Sebastian lowered his newspaper, one brow arched. "Team up for what?" he asked, as if he genuinely hadn’t been listening.
Tang bead. "To make a baby!"
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, anwhile, went quiet.
Not because it was absurd. But because it... wasn’t. Not to him.
Like he was actually weighing it--running so 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 .
I stared back, willing my face into sothing that wasn’t outright panic.
He sighed. "That’s not entirely my decision to make," he said, gaze shifting deliberately toward .
I t his eyes, unblinking.
"Don’t be so traditional," I said, voice dry as bone. "Science has co 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."
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 et over the top.
His gaze wasn’t amused anymore.
I ntally 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 mont, 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 sumr 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 rember any of that."
Selective amnesia : still the best strategy in a PR ergency.
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 etings, 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 so ways, even more exhausted than the CEO himself.
The rest of the head office staff, having completed their assignnts, 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 too busy for ssy feelings, questionable crushes--
and the minor detail that I’d apparently flirted with soone not even technically human.
By the ti 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 t a handful of useful contacts.
--
Saturday. Final day.
The branch office inspection was officially done.
The rest of the headquarters team was flying ho that afternoon.
Sebastian, however, still had two engagents on the books: horseback riding at so 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 ."
A few things? Co on. That’s vague. Suspiciously vague.
I didn’t question it. Just nodded along with Sawyer and said, "Yes, Alpha."
He hadn’t ntioned 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 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?"
He gave a look. "If he didn’t tell you, why would he tell ? What, do you think I get daily status briefings from Alpha?"
I sighed. "No. I just figured... he seems to like having you around."
Sawyer blinked. "Wait--he prefers ?"
He looked genuinely alard.
I rolled my eyes. "Not like that. Ugh. Don’t flatter yourself."
He narrowed his eyes. "Pretty sure I won’t recover from that emotional rollercoaster."
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 sll fear.)
Midway through the al, Sebastian’s phone buzzed.
The table was too long to catch the caller’s voice, but I did catch his reply :
"I’ll co alone. No one else."
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 aside. "What’s wrong?"
I hesitated. Then asked, "What are you doing tomorrow?"
"That’s what’s got you all spaced out?"
"... Forget it."
I looked away, like it hadn’t been eating at 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."
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."
"Want to co?"
"You already said I should head ho. I’m just following orders, Alpha."
He smiled, gave my shoulder a light squeeze. "You leave tomorrow, I’ll be back the next night. Barely 24 hours."
I nodded again. "Right."
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 so errands--grabbed the things Harper begged to bring, plus a few gifts for friends back ho.
By the ti I got back, the housekeeper had dinner waiting for Tang and .
Halfway through the al, the doorbell rang.
"... Please tell that’s not Amara staging a prison break," I muttered.
She’d been suspiciously quiet for days. Maybe soone really had taken her phone and grounded her.
"I got it," Tang said, setting down his fork.
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