FROM HIS MAID TO HIS QUEEN

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Sebastian's POV

I was exhausted. Being the only son of the Kingsley family wasn’t easy. I had to carry all the weight. After finishing my business visits and checkpoints at our company branches in London, Hong Kong, Dubai, and Singapore, I finally returned to New York. But home? That wasn’t an option. Home had never felt like home to me. Instead, I rented a hotel room, needing space to breathe.

Lying on the bed, fatigue pressed down on me. My father had tasked me with securing a deal with Bloomberg LP, and he was anxiously waiting for the results. He had called multiple times, his tone laced with expectation and impatience. If they rejected the proposal, I’d have to face his disappointment again, something I wasn't prepared for.

Just then, my secretary entered.

“Boss, Bloomberg has accepted your request.”

I sat up immediately. “Really? That’s great.” A weight lifted off my shoulders.

“I’ll inform the chairman now,” he said. “You should rest.”

“Hmmm.”

“One more thing, sir,” he added hesitantly.

I ran a hand through my hair, already feeling my irritation rise. “Didn’t you just tell me to rest?” My voice came out sharp. Then, exhaling, I softened. “I need sleep, please,” I murmured, almost like a child begging for food.

He hesitated before continuing. “Your friends are back, and they want to have dinner with you tomorrow evening. Should I cancel?”

I sighed. It had been a while since I last saw them. “No, don’t cancel. Tell them I’ll come. It’ll be fun catching up.”

The next evening, I arrived at the restaurant, and my friends greeted me with wide grins.

“You’re looking even better these days, Sebastian,” one of them teased. “So, when are you getting married?”

Unlucky for me, some of my friends were already married, while the others were either engaged or in serious relationships. And me? Where did I even belong?

“Marriage is for people in relationships,” another friend joked, smirking.

“Well… I guess I am, but I’m not,” I replied vaguely.

“Yeah, yeah. He’s engaged to Victoria, of course.”

A chorus of knowing glances followed.

“Ai ai ai, it’s obvious Sebastian doesn’t like Victoria,” someone laughed. “But she has been betrothed to him since birth, so what choice does he have? Besides, she seems to like you.”

I scoffed, swirling my drink. “I don’t know, and I don’t care.”

One of my friends leaned forward, his tone more serious. “Sebastian, it’s time you went after what you truly want, not what your parents want.”

“I know,” I admitted, sighing. “But what can I do?”

“Hmmm. When the time comes, you’ll know.” He paused. “By the way, have you ever been in love before?”

I thought for a moment. “Love? I don’t think so. But I did have a crush on someone once.”

The table erupted into excitement.

“Wait - what?”

“You? A crush? No way.”

Their curiosity was written all over their faces. Eyes wide, ears perked, waiting for the full gist.

“So, who was it?” someone prodded. “Come on, spill!”

I leaned back, smirking. “It was about three years ago. I helped a girl escape from some bullies. She was… different. Funny, even. The weirdest part? I don’t remember her name. Hell, I can barely remember her face.” I exhaled, rubbing my temples. “I have this issue—I struggle to remember faces or places. But her smile? I still feel it.”

They all let out a collective “Wow.”

“That’s basically love at first sight,” one of them said, grinning. “Did she at least know your name?”

I shook my head. “Not really. I told her to call me ‘Young Master.’”

They burst into laughter. “Classic Sebastian.”

“She wanted to repay me with a meal,” I continued. “Asked me to have dinner with her at a restaurant.”

“So, what happened? Did you go?”

I hesitated, my jaw tightening. “I wanted to. But that same day, my dad had Grandpa send me home for a conference I had to attend.”

“Oh, man. That sucks.” One of them patted my back.

“But you must’ve at least gotten her name, right?” another asked, hopeful.

I shook my head again. “No. I never asked.”

Their expressions shifted to disappointment.

“You’re kidding.”

“I just called her ‘Queen.’ My Queen.” I shrugged. “But it was just a one-time crush. That’s all.”

“Really? You think so?”

“If you two were meant to be, fate will bring you together,” one of them said confidently.

I chuckled, shaking my head. “I don’t believe in fate.”

“Well, if it happens, don’t lose her again.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, raising my glass. “Now can we stop with the romance talk and get back to partying?”

I was still enjoying the party when my phone buzzed.

“Your order is ready, sir.” The voice on the other end was thick, unfamiliar.

“Alright, I’m on my way,” I muttered before ending the call.

I excused myself and left the party. My baby was back. Yes, drugs were my baby. I returned to my hotel room and wasted no time indulging. The moment the substance hit my system, a wave of relief crashed over me.

“Yes, baby. I love you,” I murmured, leaning back against the headboard.

Of course, I was a drug addict. I couldn’t go a week without it. Once I was done, I took benzodiazepine to help me sleep. But even after waiting for what felt like an eternity, sleep refused to come.

Instead, my mind drifted back to what my friends had said.

They were right. I wished I could see my Queen again.