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 me for lunch?" she asked, using that honeyed tone she reserved for people she wanted something 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
