Cecilia’s pov
The bed shifted beneath —suddenly, sharply.
Before I could react, a large hand pressed against the back of my head, pulling forward.
My lips brushed skin. Warm. Smooth. Solid.
Not his shoulder.
Not his neck.
His jawline.
My eyes went wide.
The shock hit like a truck. Then everything else ca rushing in behind it.
The faint heat of his skin. The crisp scent of his cologne. The masculine warmth that radiated from him like he was on fire.
It was way too much. Too real.
Sebastian froze beneath .
For a breathless beat, neither of us moved.
Then his hand eased. Not away—just enough to tilt my face back slightly, creating a whisper of space between us.
His palm still cradled the back of my head.
Our eyes t.
Mine, wide with alarm.
His... unreadable. Too still. Too intent.
Ti stopped. My pulse thundered in my ears, loud enough to drown out thought.
I was the first to break.
I jerked upright, scrambling off the bed like I’d been burned. My hands flew to my hair, smoothing it frantically—anything to distract from the chaos inside .
"It’s five-thirty, Alpha. You really should get up now," I managed to say, my voice betraying with a slight tremble.
And then I turned—no, ran. Out of the room. Down the hall.
I didn’t stop until I reached my suite, slamming the door behind and locking it as if I were being chased.
My heart was going crazy.
I rushed to the bathroom and turned on the cold tap, splashing water onto my face like it might erase the last two minutes.
In the mirror, my reflection stared back—cheeks flushed, eyes wide, lips parted.
"What the hell was that?" I whispered, barely recognizing my own voice. "I was just doing my job. Wake the Alpha. That’s all it was."
...
At six o’clock, I forced myself to return to Sebastian’s suite. Thank God, Beta Sawyer had also arrived. We stood together in the living room, waiting for our Alpha to erge.
As we waited, I glanced at Sawyer. He’d worked for Sebastian much longer than I had. Had he also had to wake the Alpha? Had he ever found himself in a similarly... awkward position?
The thought of Beta Sawyer accidentally kissing Sebastian made want to crawl into a hole.
"Cecilia, why are you staring at like that?" Beta Sawyer asked, touching his face nervously.
"Nothing, nothing, I just..." I pressed my hand against my chest, trying to calm my racing heart. "I was just thinking... our job has its... unexpected monts."
"No job’s a cakewalk. You just have to adapt," he replied evenly.
"You’ve got the right attitude."
"What choice do I have? It’s not like I can give the Alpha attitude, can I?"
He was right, of course. But forgive if I wasn’t thinking straight after accidentally kissing my boss.
Beta Sawyer sighed beside , but before I could reply, I felt sothing change—like the air had gone electric.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed a shadow near the dressing room entrance.
Sebastian.
He was already there, standing silently as if he’d been eavesdropping for a while.
I had no idea how long he’d been watching—or how much he’d heard.
But the way his gaze moved between us, lingering just a second too long on , made my skin crawl.
His eyes held sothing unreadable. Not amusent. Not annoyance.
Sothing quieter. More dangerous.
Beta Sawyer spotted him next and straightened. "Alpha."
I turned too, and the mont our eyes t, my breath caught in my throat.
I managed to hold his gaze for a single second—maybe less—before I dropped mine, focusing instead on the buttons of his shirt like they were the most fascinating things ever.
Without a word, Sebastian walked past us and toward the exit.
Beta Sawyer and I followed, trailing behind him like obedient assistants.
We didn’t speak.
In the car on the way to ONE°15 Marina, silence settled heavy.
I sat in the back seat, rigid, every muscle from my neck to my toes wound tight.
I wanted to relax. I tried.
But each ti I closed my eyes even for a mont, all I could rember was the heat of his skin, my lips on his jaw—unintentional, uninvited, unforgettable.
"Cecilia."
Sebastian’s deep, almost lazy voice ca from beside .
I responded instantly, like a puppet on strings. "Yes, Alpha? What can I do for you?"
"Get so water."
"Of course." I retrieved a bottle from the car’s mini-fridge, opened it, and offered it to him.
Sebastian pushed it back toward . "Here. Drink. Calm yourself. Don’t overthink work-related... mistakes."
Outside the window, city lights glittered, casting multicolored reflections across my completely embarrassed face.
I looked straight ahead and took a large gulp as if it were vodka rather than water.
...
When we arrived at the marina, the driver stayed with the car while Beta Sawyer and I followed Sebastian onto the yacht—a magnificent three-story vessel, gleaming white.
The first level served as a business reception area, the second housed entertainnt facilities including a large swimming pool, and the third contained guest rooms. The top deck offered the best view and privacy, furnished with large circular sofas.
Keith personally welcod Sebastian, grabbing his arm with a smile that seed way too eager, , almost intrusive.
Inside, about a dozen local elites were gathered. Among them was a tiny, attractive young woman with tanned skin whose smile was absolutely radiant.
"This is my granddaughter Vivian. She turned twenty-one today and just returned from studying art in Arica—the exact sa university you attended, Alpha Sebastian," he bragged.
Beta Sawyer and I remained on deck, but we could see everything through the floor-to-ceiling windows. We exchanged knowing looks... So this was a setup.
Sebastian greeted Vivian politely.
The young woman couldn’t take her eyes off him, clearly smitten. Standing barely five-foot-three, she had to look way up at the six-foot-three Sebastian, her excitent obvious even from where we stood.
"If we’d known Keith was playing matchmaker, the Alpha never would have accepted the invitation," Beta Sawyer sighed.
"Well, Keith could hardly say ’I’m inviting you to et my granddaughter,’" I replied, crossing my arms. "Besides, what if they actually click? It could be a great match."
"She’s not for him," Beta Sawyer stated confidently.
"How could you possibly know that?" I challenged.
"Of course I—" Beta Sawyer suddenly stopped mid-sentence, his gaze fixed on the marina. "What the hell is she doing here?!" he exclaid.
"Who?" I followed his line of sight.
A woman approached, every step unhurried, deliberate—like she owned the place.
Her figure was tall and lithe, wrapped in a slip of black satin that glead like liquid obsidian.
Shoulder-length waves frad a face too perfect to be natural, too symtrical to be forgettable.
"Amara, our regional branch manager," Beta Sawyer explained, rushing toward her.
So this was Amara. I’d seen her na in reports but had no idea she was so stunning.
"Ms. Amara," Beta Sawyer cut her off at the gangway.
"Beta Sawyer." Her cold glance acknowledged him briefly. "Long ti no see."
As she moved to step past him, she noticed , her expression turning arctic. "And who might this be?"
I extended my hand with professional courtesy. "Hello, Ms. Amara. I’m Cecilia, Alpha Sebastian’s secretary."
Maybe I was imagining it, but her expression seed to get even icier, hurt flashing across her features. "Secretary. Of course," she said with obvious bitterness.
I stood there, hand still extended, totally confused.
Without shaking my hand, Amara pushed past us, radiating hostility as she headed inside.
"What’s her deal?" I asked Sawyer, thrown by the interaction.
Beta Sawyer sighed. "She’s our forr Beta’s daughter. Her mother and Luna Regina—Alpha Sebastian’s mother—are best friends.
She basically grew up in the Black household and has a... ssy history with the Alpha. It’s complicated."
"Ah, now I get it," I said, the pieces falling into place.
So that’s why Sebastian chose Singapore as his first destination—he had soone special waiting for him here.
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