A place I don't belong
1092 Words
The car slowed to a stop in front of a tall glass building overlooking the lights of Monaco.
Even at night, the city didn’t feel asleep. Lights scattered across the water, yachts floating quietly like they belonged there, like everything in this place had already been decided for them.
I didn’t care.
“Out,” Sebastian said.
Just like that.
No warmth. No hesitation.
I stepped out, the cool air brushing against my skin. My dress shifted as I moved, the deep red standing out sharply against everything around me. The necklace at my collarbone caught the light now and then, small flashes that felt almost intentional.
If I was going to stand beside him, I wasn’t going to look weak.
We walked inside without a word. No one stopped us. No one even looked twice at him. It was like the entire place adjusted itself around Sebastian without being told.
Of course it did.
The elevator ride was quiet.
Too quiet.
I stood on one side, he stood on the other. I didn’t look at him but I felt him there anyway, still, composed, like he didn’t need to do anything to take up space.
And somehow that was worse.
The doors opened straight into the penthouse.
I stopped.
Everything inside was black, but not in a dull or empty way. In a way that felt deliberate.
The walls, the furniture, even the lighting looked carefully chosen. Soft gold lights ran along the edges of the room, shaping everything instead of softening it. The glass windows stretched wide, showing the sea below, dark and endless.
It was beautiful, but it didn’t feel warm.
It felt controlled.
Like nothing here happened by accident.
I walked in slowly, heels quiet against the floor, taking it all in. There was a piano by the window, sculptures placed like someone had spent time deciding the exact distance between them. A bar stood off to the side, everything arranged too neatly, too precisely.
Nothing felt lived in.
“This is where you live?” I asked.
“No.”
I glanced at him.
“This is where I stay.”
That made more sense than it should have.
Because it didn’t feel like a home.
It felt like somewhere you observed life from.
My eyes drifted down the hallway until they landed on a door that wasn’t fully closed. I don’t know why I focused on it, I just did.
His room.
Even from here it matched the rest.
Dark. Clean. Controlled.
The bed was perfectly made, not a single crease out of place. A watch sat on a glass table like it had been set there on purpose. His wardrobe was slightly open, revealing rows of suits arranged in strict order.
Black, grey, white.
Nothing else.
No color. No personality.
“You’re staring.”
His voice came from behind me.
I didn’t turn.
“You live like a ghost,” I said.
There was a pause, then I heard his footsteps behind me, slow, steady.
“Do I?”
He stopped close, not touching me, but close enough that I felt him there anyway.
I hated that.
“If you’re trying to impress me,” I added, “it’s not working.”
Silence.
“I’m not trying to impress you,” he said.
Something in my chest tightened, but I ignored it.
“Good. Because I’m not impressed.”
Another pause.
Then he walked past me. Close enough that I felt the shift in air, but he didn’t touch me.
He went to the bar and poured himself a drink like I wasn’t even there.
Like I didn’t matter.
And for some reason, that annoyed me more than anything else.
I turned slightly.
Even the way he stood there looked controlled. Relaxed, but not really. Like everything about him had been practiced until it became natural.
Nothing about Sebastian was careless.
Not even silence.
“What now?” I asked.
“We wait.”
“For what?”
He turned then.
His eyes met mine, steady, unreadable.
“For you to realize something.”
My fingers curled slightly.
“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”
He stepped closer.
Just one step, but it shifted everything anyway.
“You’re not here because of your father.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
He didn’t blink.
“If you still think that,” he said, “then you haven’t been paying attention.”
I frowned.
“Then explain it.”
“I don’t need to.”
That irritated me instantly.
“You dragged me into this and now you’re speaking in riddles?”
“You weren’t dragged.”
A short laugh slipped out of me.
“Is that what you tell yourself?”
“No,” he said calmly. “That’s what you signed.”
My chest tightened.
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“It means everything.”
The way he said it made it sound final, like there was nothing left to argue about.
“You’re wrong,” I said.
“Am I?”
No reaction. No pushback.
That bothered me more than if he had argued.
We stared at each other for a moment, the silence stretching between us until it felt heavier than words.
Then he turned away like the conversation was already over.
“Get some rest. We leave early.”
Just like that.
Like nothing had shifted at all.
But it had.
And I stood there trying to figure out how something I didn’t understand could still feel like it had changed everything.
If this wasn’t about my father…
Then what was it about?
And why did it feel like I was the only one who didn’t know?
I stayed there a moment longer, trying to settle the thoughts spinning in my head.
Nothing fit. Nothing made sense.
Then a sound broke through the silence.
Click.
I frowned slightly and turned toward the hallway.
“What was that?”
No answer.
Sebastian hadn’t moved from where he stood.
Another sound came, softer this time.
From his room.
My chest tightened before I even understood why.
Slowly, I walked toward the slightly open door.
Each step felt heavier than it should have, like the air itself was resisting me.
The door was still cracked open just enough.
I hesitated.
Then pushed it wider.
The room was exactly how I had seen it before.
Perfect. Controlled. Untouched.
But something about it felt different now.
I stood at the doorway, staring inside.
And that’s where the silence began to feel wrong.
- Writer
