Cecilia’s pov
I tried to breathe normally as Sebastian guided through the expansive grounds of the Black estate.
The backyard was straight out of a luxury magazine. The lawns were perfectly trimd, the artificial lake reflected the sunset, and the flowerbeds stretched as far as I could see.
It was the kind of place where everything looked perfect on the surface, but you just knew there were secrets buried under all that beauty.
Luna Regina had said she was "personally preparing" dinner, which probably ant standing near the kitchen and butting in with unsolicited opinions.
She approached us, her eyes imdiately dropping to my feet.
"Cece, what happened? Did you twist your ankle?" Her perfectly arched brows pulled together in concern.
I opened my mouth to brush it off with a laugh, but Sebastian spoke first. His voice was smooth, but final.
"She shouldn’t be wearing heels right now."
His tone shut down the conversation instantly, like a door slamming shut.
Luna Regina blinked, clearly surprised. "Are you sick, dear?"
Sebastian didn’t answer.
Instead, he guided to a chair with his hand on my lower back.
The touch was steady, almost possessive, like he was silently claiming responsibility for . Or control. Maybe both.
Luna Regina turned to Zaria, pulling her aside. "What’s going on?"
I could still hear them.
Zaria sounded genuinely confused. "I have no idea."
Then ca the next wave.
"Harper, Yvonne, do you know what’s happening?" Luna Regina asked quietly.
They both shook their heads.
Their expressions were polite, but it was clear they sensed sothing wasn’t right.
I caught fragnts of their conversation, whispering just out of reach.
The heat rose in my chest. The pressure. The questions.
The way everyone was watching . It was all too much.
Sebastian handed a glass of water. I took it but didn’t drink.
Instead, I looked up suddenly and locked eyes with him.
"This is between us, right?" I asked, my voice tight.
He tilted his head, his eyes glittering with sothing unreadable.
"I thought Cece was the lone wolf," he said softly. "Since when are we a ’we’?"
The words stung more than they should have.
He always knew how to twist the knife without raising his voice.
I reached for his hand and lowered my voice to a whisper. It ca out more desperate than I’d ant.
"Can we skip dinner and just talk? Sowhere private?"
Sebastian pulled his hand back. Calm. Controlled.
"Running out on a al won’t fix anything."
He said it like we were discussing a business deal. Like my panic was a logistics error.
Frustration bubbled up fast.
"You think I can just sit there and eat like everything’s fine? You’re not the one dealing with the consequences."
My voice cracked at the end. I hated that. I sounded raw. Exposed.
"And don’t act like this is all on . You were the one who pushed for it. I didn’t exactly sign up for this."His face stayed calm, maybe too calm. If anything, he looked slightly amused. "As I rember, you didn’t resist."
I clenched my fists under the table. I couldn’t believe he was doing this now, in front of everyone.
"Only because you made it feel like it was safe!"The words ca out louder than I intended.
Several heads turned. Heat rushed up my neck.
Regret hit fast, but I couldn’t take it back.
--
The sun was setting as Sebastian and I moved away from the group to a quieter part of the garden.
The air slled like lavender and grilled at, but I barely noticed. My head was still spinning from our conversation.
After a heated back-and-forth, we reached a compromise: he agreed not to say anything, and I promised we’d talk properly after dinner.
By the ti we returned, the outdoor table was set with an impressive spread.
Zaria was back and waving everyone over with a grin.
I deliberately chose a seat near a plate of grilled vegetables.
I needed distance. From the at. From the questions. From him.
"Sit here, Cece!" Zaria called, patting the chair beside her.
"I made sure they included your favorite cuts."
"No thanks, I’m fine here," I said quickly, already sinking into my chosen seat.
My voice was polite. My body language said: don’t push .
Zaria’s smile faltered for a second, but she let it go.
Everyone else began to sit down, conversations picking up again like nothing had happened.
I picked at the salad in front of , barely tasting it.
The fish dishes looked too slippery. The at glistened too much. Even the sll made my stomach twist.
Sebastian was watching again.
He wasn’t staring outright, but I could feel his eyes on . He noticed every sip I took and every bite I skipped.
His brow drew together, like sothing wasn’t adding up.
"Sebastian," Luna Regina called across the table.
"Get Cece sothing real to eat! She can’t live on lettuce."
Sebastian leaned in, his voice low and unexpectedly gentle.
"Do you want sothing else?"
I forced a smile and pointed to a dish on the far side.
"I’d love so of the wild mushroom soup."
"Of course."
He got up and served it himself, careful like he was handling glass.
I took tiny sips, moving the spoon around more than I actually ate.
It was all an act. Just enough to avoid suspicion.
Just when I thought I was in the clear, Zaria reached across the table, speared a spicy grilled sausage, and dropped it onto my plate.
The smoky, peppery scent hit instantly. It was rich, greasy, and way too strong.
My stomach flipped so hard it felt like soone had pulled the table out from under .
"Th-thank you..." I said, grabbing my juice quickly and taking a long sip, trying to settle the nausea.
I started picking at the casing, stalling.
When I finally cut off a small piece, Sebastian reached over and took it off my plate.
"I’ll take that," he said casually.
"You shouldn’t eat anything spicy if you’re still sick."
"Right," I said, nodding. "Spice and colds don’t mix."
Relief swept through like a breeze.
One crisis avoided. For now.
Then ca the final course.
Perfectly grilled Colorado lamb chops, glistening with rosemary and garlic.
The sll was thick and savory, cutting through the air like it owned the place.
My body reacted before I could stop it. My face went pale. My stomach clenched like it was rejecting the entire evening.
I shut my eyes for a second.
Breathe. Just breathe.
I opened them again, forcing a smile.
"I’m so sorry," I said, standing up slowly.
"I’m really not feeling well. The cold, plus my stomach... I need to lie down for a bit. Please, keep eating."
The room fell still. Conversations died mid-sentence, replaced by uneasy glances and flickers of concern across every face.
Then Sebastian stood up. His chair scraped against the stone patio.
"I’ll go with her."
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