Chapter 9: The Way He Looks at You
772 Words
I didn’t expect to see him again that night.
After dinner, after the tension, after the way his family had watched me like I didn’t belong
I thought he would disappear back into his world.
His work.
His control.
But he didn’t.
I heard the door open behind me.
Soft.
Controlled.
I didn’t turn immediately.
I was standing by the window again, staring out into the darkness beyond the estate.
“You’re still awake.”
His voice.
Low.
Too close.
“I could say the same,” I replied quietly.
A pause.
Then
“I wasn’t finished with you.”
My breath caught slightly.
I turned.
Sebastian stood a few steps away, his jacket gone now, his sleeves slightly rolled up.
Less formal.
Still controlled.
Always controlled.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
He didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he walked closer.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Until the space between us felt… smaller than it should.
“You did well tonight.”
The words were simple.
But they landed differently.
Because they mattered.
Because he said them.
“I didn’t have much of a choice,” I said.
“You always have a choice.”
I let out a small breath. “You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true.”
I shook my head slightly. “It doesn’t feel true.”
His gaze held mine.
“That doesn’t change it.”
Of course it didn’t.
Nothing in his world seemed to depend on feelings.
Only decisions.
Only outcomes.
“Your mother doesn’t like me,” I said after a moment.
“That’s expected.”
“That doesn’t bother you?”
“No.”
Too easy.
Too certain.
“It should,” I said quietly.
“Why?”
“Because I’m supposed to be standing beside you.”
A pause.
Then
“You are.”
The confidence in his voice unsettled me again.
“Even if your family disagrees?”
“They don’t decide for me.”
I studied him for a moment.
Trying to understand.
Trying to see past the control.
Past the certainty.
“You’re used to getting what you want,” I said.
“Yes.”
No denial.
No hesitation.
No apology.
“And right now,” I continued, “what you want is me.”
His gaze darkened slightly.
“Yes.”
My chest tightened.
The way he said it
Not soft.
Not romantic.
Not even gentle.
Just… truth.
“And if I change my mind?” I asked.
A dangerous question.
I knew that.
But I asked it anyway.
His eyes didn’t move.
“You won’t.”
The certainty again.
The confidence.
The quiet dominance that never needed to raise its voice.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
Silence stretched between us.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
And then
He stepped closer.
Close enough that I could feel the shift in the air.
Close enough that my breath caught.
“Do you know what they saw tonight?” he asked quietly.
I frowned slightly. “What?”
“They saw a woman who didn’t break.”
My chest tightened.
“They saw someone who could stand in this world.”
A pause.
“They saw you.”
Something in me shifted slightly.
Because that wasn’t what I had felt.
I felt exposed.
Out of place.
Barely holding it together.
“And what did you see?” I asked.
His gaze didn’t leave mine.
“You already know.”
My breath caught.
No.
I didn’t.
Or maybe
I didn’t want to.
“You keep looking at me like you’ve already decided something,” I said quietly.
“I have.”
The answer came instantly.
“What?”
A pause.
Just long enough to make my heart race.
Then
“That I don’t regret this.”
The words settled between us.
Heavy.
Certain.
Real.
And for the first time
I didn’t know what to say.
Because something in me
Something quiet and dangerous
Didn’t regret it either.
That realization hit harder than anything else.
I stepped back slightly.
Needing space.
Needing air.
“This is still an arrangement,” I said.
A reminder.
More for myself than for him.
“Yes.”
But the way he said it
It didn’t feel like agreement.
It felt like something else.
Something deeper.
Something I couldn’t quite name yet.
“And arrangements don’t come with…” I hesitated.
“Complications?”
His voice finished the thought for me.
“Yes.”
A faint shift touched his expression.
Almost a smile.
Almost.
“They do now.”
My breath caught.
Because something about that felt like a warning.
Or maybe
A promise.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD