Sebastian stood by the couch, staring down at Maya’s unconscious form. Her breathing was soft, steady, and for a moment, he wondered if she’d wake up and catch him. She didn’t.
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as guilt crept into his chest. This is low. Even for you, Sebastian. But he told himself it wasn’t unjustified. She’d made herself his enemy first, painting him as a villain in her articles. This wasn’t cruelty—it was strategy.
Still, his gaze lingered on her. The sharpness of her features had softened in sleep, making her look almost serene. The messy curls that framed her face tempted him to reach out, brush them back, but he didn’t. She looked vulnerable like this—too vulnerable. And that made him feel…wrong.
Shaking his head, he carefully slid his arms beneath her, lift
