Chapter 11: Don’t Test Me
890 Words
The woman didn’t leave immediately.
She stayed.
That was the problem.
Her eyes lingered on me a second too long
measuring, comparing, deciding.
Like I was something she could easily remove.
“I didn’t realize you were engaged,” she said smoothly, turning her attention back to Sebastian.
“I am.”
His voice didn’t change.
Didn’t soften.
Didn’t explain.
Just confirmation.
“And to her?” she pressed lightly.
The question wasn’t innocent.
Nothing about her was.
“Yes.”
One word.
Final.
Her lips curved slightly.
Not amused.
Not pleased.
Just… calculating.
“I see.”
But she didn’t.
Not really.
Not yet.
And somehow
That made her more dangerous.
“Olivia.”
Sebastian’s voice cut through the tension.
A warning.
A boundary.
She didn’t look offended.
If anything
She looked intrigued.
“You’ve changed,” she said.
“I haven’t.”
“You have,” she insisted softly. “You just don’t see it yet.”
A pause.
Then her gaze slid back to me.
“But I do.”
My chest tightened.
There was something in the way she said it
Something that felt like she already knew more than I did.
“Careful,” she added quietly.
Again.
To me.
Like a warning.
Or a threat.
Before I could respond
Sebastian stepped slightly closer to my side.
Not touching.
But close enough that the message was clear.
“Don’t.”
The word was quiet.
But sharp.
And this time
It wasn’t for me.
Olivia held his gaze for a moment longer.
Then smiled.
Soft.
Controlled.
“Relax,” she said. “I’m just getting to know her.”
“You’re done.”
Another pause.
Then
“Of course,” she replied.
But she didn’t look finished.
Not even close.
She turned and walked away without another word.
But the tension she left behind
It stayed.
The moment she was gone, I exhaled slowly.
“That was… intense.”
Sebastian didn’t respond immediately.
His gaze was still fixed in the direction she had gone.
“Who is she?” I asked.
“Someone who doesn’t know when to stop.”
That wasn’t an answer.
“She seemed comfortable around you.”
A pause.
Then
“She’s worked here a long time.”
Not what I meant.
“You avoided the question.”
His eyes shifted to me slowly.
“I answered it.”
“No,” I said quietly. “You didn’t.”
Silence stretched between us.
Then
“What do you want to know?” he asked.
The question caught me off guard.
Because I wasn’t sure.
Not exactly.
“Why she talks to me like that,” I said.
“Because she thinks she can.”
“And can she?”
His gaze darkened slightly.
“No.”
The certainty in his voice
It grounded something in me.
Just slightly.
“But she still did,” I pointed out.
“Yes.”
A pause.
Then
“That won’t happen again.”
The way he said it
Calm.
Controlled.
Certain
Sent a quiet shiver down my spine.
Because I believed him.
Without question.
And that
That was new.
“You don’t like her,” he said suddenly.
It wasn’t a question.
I let out a small breath. “Is it that obvious?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” I muttered.
A faint shift in his expression.
Almost amusement.
Almost.
“She doesn’t like you either.”
“That part was obvious,” I said.
A beat.
Then
“She sees you as a threat.”
That caught me off guard.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
I frowned. “Why?”
His gaze held mine.
“Because you’re standing where she expected to be.”
The words hit harder than I expected.
Something tightened in my chest.
“Was she?” I asked quietly.
A pause.
Then
“No.”
Too fast.
Too certain.
And for the first time
I didn’t fully believe him.
“You hesitated.”
“I didn’t.”
“You did.”
A flicker of something crossed his expression.
Gone just as quickly.
“This isn’t relevant.”
“It is to me.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Tense.
“Don’t overthink it,” he said.
“I’m not overthinking,” I replied. “I’m trying to understand.”
“You don’t need to.”
Frustration flared.
“I do.”
His gaze sharpened.
“No, you don’t.”
The tension between us snapped tight.
Sharp.
Unavoidable.
“You don’t get to decide what I need,” I said quietly.
His expression didn’t change.
But something in the air did.
Something heavier.
More dangerous.
“I decide what matters.”
The words landed hard.
Too hard.
I held his gaze.
Refusing to back down.
“And what if I don’t agree?”
A pause.
Longer this time.
Then
“Then don’t test me.”
The words were quiet.
Low.
Controlled.
But they carried something else.
A warning.
My breath caught slightly.
Because for the first time
I saw it clearly.
Not just the control.
Not just the certainty.
But the edge beneath it.
The part of him that didn’t bend.
Didn’t compromise.
Didn’t lose.
And suddenly
This didn’t feel like an arrangement anymore.
It felt like something else entirely.
Something I wasn’t prepared for.
Something I might not be able to control.
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