Cecilia’s pov
I managed a smile that felt more like a grimace.
Who would ever want to participate in sothing like that competition?
"Can’t I join sothing... better?" I asked, my voice small and vulnerable.
"Of course," Alpha Sebastian replied without hesitation, nodding with absolute certainty.
His smile transford his usually stern features, eyes sparkling with warmth as he spoke in that rich, deep voice that reminded of aged whiskey. "You can join anything you want."
I had been holding myself together by sheer willpower, determined not to break down and give anyone the satisfaction of seeing cry.
But in this mont, I realized I could allow myself this weakness. I could be fragile. I could be comforted.
Sothing warm and bittersweet rose from deep within , washing away the walls I’d built to protect myself.
My vision blurred with tears. I let my guard down completely, no longer concerned about appearing strong.
I leaned against him, silently releasing all the emotions I’d been suppressing.
Understanding my need to preserve my dignity, Alpha Sebastian removed his suit jacket and draped it over my head, shielding from view as he guided out of the restaurant.
In the car, my shoulders continued to shake silently.
Emotions are like the tide—once released, they will not ebb simply at your will. They crash in waves, demanding to complete their natural course before returning to calm shores.
I was not sure how much ti passed before I finally regained my composure.
As the emotional storm subsided, I felt lighter, unburdened. The silence around was peaceful. I realized I was still sitting in the car, embracing...
Wait—embracing?
Embracing!
My consciousness snapped to full alertness.
Then I saw it—my arms were wrapped around his waist! My face pressed against his chest!
I’d been holding him just like the cuddle pillow I cuddled every night—with natural ease and shocking boldness. The result was... problematic.
My eyes darted around nervously as I considered my options.
Should I casually let go and sit up?
Or should I pretend to be asleep, wait for him to wake , and then act like I had no idea what happened?
The second option seed viable. After all, hadn’t I fallen asleep during our business trip and ended up in his arms? He hadn’t ntioned it then.
While I was contemplating how to navigate this embarrassing situation, a voice ca from above .
"Stop overthinking. It’ll be dark before you decide," he said, gently patting my head.
"Let’s eat first. You can hug again after dinner."
I froze completely, mortification spreading from my head to my toes.
Sebastian’s pov
Five minutes later, Cecilia sat across from in a private dining room.
The courtyard-style restaurant was designed for intimate gatherings—quiet enough to hear the artificial stream gurgling outside.
The atmosphere was serene and elegant.
I ordered while she sat there, looking outwardly composed but radiating anxiety so potent I could practically taste it.
Her heart was racing, betraying the calm facade she was attempting to maintain.
[She’s adorable when she’s flustered,] Soren comnted, clearly enjoying her discomfort.
"Do you want shrimp?" I asked casually.
"...Yes," she answered, her heartbeat skipping as she rushed to respond.
"Would you prefer crè brûlée or a raspberry panna cotta for dessert?"
"...Both—"
"You want both?" I raised an eyebrow.
She had clearly ant to say "either is fine" but nodded instead. "Mm-hmm."
I ordered six dishes and then looked up at her.
Cecilia pretended to be interested in the scenery outside, taking small sips of water. Her nervousness was so acute that her teeth kept clinking against the glass.
"That cup—" I started.
She looked at the glass in confusion. "What? What’s wrong with the cup?"
"You can’t eat that," I stated with deliberate seriousness, as if explaining sothing to a child trying to eat rocks off the ground.
She stared at the glass in her hand, mortification evident in every line of her body.
Thankfully, our food arrived quickly.
She imdiately employed her strategy of focusing intensely on eating—a technique I’d noticed she used when avoiding conversation.
It served the dual purpose of finishing quickly and minimizing interaction.
"Cecilia, have so shrimp," I said, peeling a large prawn and placing it on her plate.
Her movents froze montarily.
Then she responded with excessive enthusiasm: "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
After she ate the shrimp, I placed a lamb chop on her plate. "Cecilia, have so at."
"Yes, yes, yes!"
"Cecilia, so soup?" I ladled broth into a bowl for her.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
"Cecilia..."
"Yes, yes! Thank you, thank you!"
Her automated responses had malfunctioned.
She bit down on her soup ladle, turning her head away and briefly closing her eyes in embarrassnt.
I watched her with undisguised amusent, my lips curving into sothing between a smile and exasperation.
After a long mont, I continued, "No need for thanks. Why don’t you peel a shrimp for instead?"
Cecilia turned back, setting down her soup ladle. "Of course, of course, I’ll peel one for you."
She began peeling shrimp with intense concentration.
One after another.
The prawns were substantial in size, and in less than two minutes, she’d created a small mountain of peeled shrimp on my plate.
I picked one up and ate it, then sighed and raised my eyes to et hers. "This is just dinner, not your last al before being sold into trafficking. There’s no need to be so tense."
Cecilia gave a blank look of feigned confusion. "I’m not nervous. Why would I be nervous? Alpha, please eat your shrimp before they get cold."
I could practically see her crumbling inside.
I wordlessly ate my shrimp.
When we had nearly finished our al, Cecilia quickly grabbed the bill. "Alpha Sebastian, I really appreciate everything you’ve done for today. Words can’t express my gratitude. Please allow to pay for this."
My expression cooled slightly. "If ingratitude were an art form, you’d have a professional certification."
She bit her lip awkwardly.
I stood up and walked out, expressionless.
Cecilia followed, hurrying to pay before rushing outside to insist on driving.
Sawyer had dropped us off at the restaurant earlier and left.
Now, returning to the office...
As my secretary, she clearly thought it would look inappropriate for to drive while she sat in the backseat. If anyone from the company spotted them, rumors would fly.
And sitting beside would instantly label her as the Alpha’s mistress.
My dark mood persisted from the restaurant all the way back to the office.
I had intended to ask what AAlpha Xavier had said to her earlier, but seeing how desperately she wanted to maintain professional distance, I found myself foolish.
She clearly didn’t want to owe anything—not even gratitude.
Cecilia’s pov
Back at the office, Beta Sawyer saw us return sooner than expected.
"I brought your car back," Sawyer said, entering my office and returning my keys. "I took them from your bag earlier."
He must have witnessed my breakdown, seen how tightly I’d clung to Alpha Sebastian.
If he hadn’t known the context, he might have thought I was deliberately trying to seduce the Alpha.
"Thank you," I said gratefully.
"No need for thanks, it was nothing," Beta Sawyer replied, then asked with concern, "Are you feeling better? Do you want to take the afternoon off to rest?"
"That’s not necessary. I’m fine now."
This situation wouldn’t be resolved by a few hours of rest anyway.
Beta Sawyer studied , seemingly satisfied that I had recovered, then left.
At five o’clock, I packed up to leave.
I called Harper, learned she was working late at her law firm, and decided to head there directly.
My phone rang just as I was about to drive out of the parking garage.
Alpha Sebastian was calling.
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