TRUE LOVE SAVES THE CHRISTMAS

Chapter 1

FATE'S FRACTURED CHRISTMAS

Scarlett's POV

"Is that all I could have given you? A brief treat? My voice breaks, yet I get strong. I refuse to let him view the tears poised to pour.

Sebastian's frigid blue gaze cut through me, his jaw tightening as though he were fighting a war inside himself. His quiet but tense voice screams, "You shouldn't have come back." "You have positioned me in an impossibility."

Clutching the edge of the polished mahogany desk between us, I step forward, fingers shaking. The room feels stifling; his fragrance and the slight pine aroma just make it more difficult to think clearly. "Impressive?" Remember? It was you that welcomed me here. Though you knew I would be the one working on this project, you couldn't resist once more intervening as God with my life.

His chuckle is frigid, devoid of humor. "Don't let yourself be flattered." For business, this is. Not more.

"Business?," ask Driven by the months of suffering I have carried, my voice gets higher. "You show up in my life, rip the rug out from under me, and act as though you don't care that I—just business." I stop short, chewing the words meant to reveal too much. He is not obliged to know. Not right yet.

He leans forward, his tall figure throwing a shadow over me, and his voice is razor sharp. "Consider what, Scarlett?" You? Never confuse my tolerance for something it is not for. I started my empire by eliminating distractions.

I lost him. I detest his staring at me with those eyes that burned with want but now seem frozen over with scorn. With only a few words, his ability to make me feel little and unworthy irritates me. Most of all, as if it hasn't learnt its lesson, I detest that my heart still races when he is thus near.

"S Sebastian, you are a coward." Though I try to stop them, the words come out before I can. I do not regret them. His face gets rigid, a flutter of something—hurt—crossing his features then vanishes.

And if you believe I owe you anything, you are a fool. Although his voice is poisonous, he discloses something in his eyes. Recurrence of regret Question? Not too swiftly to tell, it is gone.

I heal myself and go for the door. But his fingers circle my wrist, stopping me in my tracks before I can go. His touch shocks me exactly like it usually does. I detest that too.

He continues, his voice lower now, almost imploring, "Don't walk away from me." This is the tone I have not heard from him before; it is sufficient to cause me to stop dead cold.

I whirl around wrenching my wrist from his hold. "You are not here to tell me what to do. not anymore.

"You believe I desired this?" You assumed I wanted to see you once more? His comments come out as piercing, relentless missiles.

Then, why would you bring me here? I turn around and shoot back. "Why go out of your way to make me a part of your world again if you can't even look at me without spitting venom?"

He steps forward, his presence overpowering. "Because nobody else could handle the work. Because you excel in what you do. But do not believe for a moment that implies—“

"What do you feel?" I stopped him off, my voice faltering. "Don't fret, Sebastian." I now realize not to expect that from you.

His stillness is intolerable; for a second, I believe I have won. Then he talks, though, and his remarks probe farther than I could have imagined. " Scarlett, you were a mistake. One I cannot afford as a distraction.

Unresolved tension in the air between us buzzes. His comments should destroy me, but yet his attitude toward me—that of someone on the point of breaking—keeps me anchored in place.

With my voice almost above a whisper, "If that's what you really think," I add, "then let me go." Let me turn away and never turn around.

He stays silent and moves nowhere. The quiet suffocatingly spreads between us. I see the struggle he is too proud to acknowledge playing in his eyes. And then he does something that saps the oxygen from my lungs as I turn to go.

He moves forward, cupping my face in his hands, then puts his lips to mine.

The kiss is all I remember—fire and ice, desire and suffering. I let myself sink into it for a time, forgetting the months of anguish and treachery. But it runs out just as fast as it starts. He withdraws, his breath laboured, his gaze a combination of yearning and anxiety.

His voice strained, he adds, "This doesn't change anything."

Of course it doesn't, I say with a sour tone. " Nothing ever does with you."

The sound of breaking glass slices across the air before he can reply. We both look toward the glass, where among the fragments a big rock sits. Attached to it is a sheet of paper flitting in the breeze.

Sebastian picks the note fast and studies its contents. His face becomes white, and his stare at me is one of sheer terror.

"What is it??" With a thumping heart, I beg.

His voice low and urgent, he advises, "Get out."

'What? Why?”

Scarlett, now. He draws me toward the door with his arm. " You are not safe here."

"Not safe?," My voice increased, I yanked my arm free. "What the devil is going on, Sebastian?"

He responds not, concentrating on the note he is holding. At last he pushes it into my hand, his eyes flickering with a mix of fear and rage.

I open the paper while trembling my hands. The words scribbled on it shiver me to the spine.

You felt you could keep her out of our reach? Reevaluate.

Sebastian takes me by the shoulders before I can really understand the danger; his grasp is strong but not agonizing. "You have to trust me," he continues, his voice deadly serious. "Stay near me no matter what happens. I'll guard your safety.

"Safe from what?," I ask, my voice quivering.

He is not responding. Rather, he draws me into the room's shadows and looks around as though he expects an assault right now.

And then I hear it—the faint sound of footsteps getting louder every second. Sebastian's fingers close tightly around mine and my heart leaps.

He says, "Stay quiet," his breath warm in my ear. "Don't make a sound no matter what."

The handle starts to spin as the feet stop just outside the door.

The mechanical groan of the gradually turning handle echoes in the tense quiet. As I hang to Sebastian, his arm securely around me, forcing me back into the shadows, my breath freezes.

The door opens to see a tall person silhouetted against the low light from the corridor. Though I can not see their face, the way they stop with deliberate accuracy across the room makes me shiver.

Sebastian's hand shuts tightly around mine. As he says, "Don't move," his lips gently sweep across my ear. You never even breathe.

The person walks in, their boots thudding dually on the floor. Their slow, methodical motions suggest that they know we are here and are relishing the moment; they have a terrible presence.

"Sebastian Cole," the man yells in a deep and mocking tone. "Did you truly believe you could overlook the results of your actions? People who like you always pay one way or another.

Sebastian moves slightly, his body a barrier between the invader and me. Though his voice is soothing, it has a steel edge. Leave her out of this if you have an issue with me.

The man laughs softly in darkness. But she is the key, isn't she? For her you would burn the earth. That increases her leverage.

My blood turns chilly. Whoever this is, they are overly informed. Sebastian's jaw closes and his stance stiffens as the person approaches still another step.

With a lethal tone, the intruder tells Cole, "You have till midnight to remedy this. "Everyone you love, everything you have worked for will be ashes."

A quick flash of movement shocks me—a glitter of steel as the person draws a knife and hurls it across the room before I can register the threat. It settles only inches from my head on the wall.

"Tick-tock," the man says and vanishes into the night.

Sebastian looks at me, his face pallid but resolved. Scarlett, this is not over. N

ot by a long stretch.

And yet, I know, this is just beginning.