Morning After
1173 Words
Celestia
“I don’t think you should get too relaxed just yet.”
His voice drifted through the room, low and smooth, pulling me out of the haze that had swallowed my senses moments ago.
I blinked slowly, staring at the ceiling above Sebastian’s bed. My wrists were still loosely tied to the headboard with the black tie, and my body felt heavy in the most unfamiliar way—like every muscle had melted and reformed.
My heart was still beating too fast.
Sebastian’s silhouette shifted beside the bed. I turned my head slightly, watching him as he moved around the room with effortless confidence, like this space belonged entirely to him.
Which… it did.
The realization sent a small wave of embarrassment through me.
I tugged lightly at the tie around my wrists. Not enough to escape, just enough to remind myself it was there.
“Are you going to untie me?” I asked quietly.
He paused at the foot of the bed, his gaze sweeping over me again in that intense way that made my stomach twist.
“You sound calmer than before,” he said.
I rolled my eyes weakly. “Because you exhausted me.”
One corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
Sebastian stepped closer, reaching forward and loosening the tie from the headboard. The fabric slipped away from my wrists, leaving faint marks behind.
The moment I was free, I pulled my arms down and rubbed them gently.
He watched the movement.
Not in a predatory way now. More like he was studying me.
Trying to figure something out.
I pushed myself up on the bed, pulling the sheets around my body.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked.
Sebastian didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he leaned back against the dresser across the room, crossing his arms.
“You’re not what I expected,” he said finally.
I snorted. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
“An observation.”
His hazel eyes held mine again.
The silence stretched between us.
It was strange. Last night had been chaotic and intense, but this moment felt different. Quieter. More dangerous somehow.
Because now we had time to think.
And thinking always complicated things.
“So,” I said slowly, breaking the silence. “Do you usually bring home women from clubs and interrogate them in the morning?”
Sebastian tilted his head slightly.
“Only the interesting ones.”
I shook my head, pushing the sheets aside and sliding off the bed. My legs felt unsteady when they touched the floor.
He noticed. Of course he did.
But he didn’t say anything.
I gathered my clothes from the floor, trying to ignore the heat creeping up my neck as I dressed.
Sebastian’s gaze followed every movement.
When I pulled my torn skirt up, he raised an eyebrow.
“That’s ruined.”
“I noticed,” I muttered.
He walked to the closet and pulled out a white shirt, tossing it toward me.
I caught it instinctively. “Use that,” he said.
I wrapped it around my waist to cover the tear.
It smelled faintly like him.
And for some reason, that made my chest tighten.
When I finished dressing, I grabbed my shoes and turned toward the door.
“I should go.”
Sebastian didn’t move.
“You’re leaving already?”
I gave him a dry look.
“Did you expect me to stay for breakfast?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“Whether you plan on disappearing.”
I froze for a second.
Because that was exactly what I planned to do.
I turned back slowly.
“Why would I disappear?”
His eyes darkened slightly.
“Because women who get involved with the Sinclair family usually do.”
The name hit me like a slap.
Sinclair.
Right.
For a moment I wondered if he recognized me.
If he knew the girl his family had once bought was standing in front of him now.
But his expression remained unreadable.
Good.
I forced a calm smile.
“I think you’re overestimating how important last night was.”
His gaze sharpened.
“Are you sure about that?”
I didn’t answer.
Instead, I opened the door and stepped into the hallway.
The corridor outside his room was quiet and polished, the kind of luxury that made you feel small.
I was halfway down the hall when someone stepped directly into my path.
A man in a sharp suit.
Sebastian’s assistant.
His eyes widened slightly when he saw me.
“Miss”
“I’m leaving,” I said quickly.
“I’m afraid Mr. Sinclair didn’t”
I didn’t wait for him to finish.
I slipped past him before he could stop me.
“Miss!”
But I was already heading toward the elevator.
My heart pounded the entire way down.
Not from fear. From something far more complicated.
By the time I reached my apartment, the sky was pale with early morning light.
I collapsed onto my couch, exhaustion finally catching up with me.
My phone buzzed. Priscila.
I sighed and answered.
“You’re alive,” she said immediately.
“Barely.”
“Where did you sleep last night?”
I closed my eyes.
“Priscila…”
“Celestia.”
Her voice turned serious.
“You disappeared after your shift. Do you have any idea how worried I was?”
Guilt crept into my chest.
“I’m sorry.”
“So where were you?”
I hesitated.
Then I said the first thing that came to mind.
“With someone.”
Her gasp exploded through the phone.
“YOU WHAT?”
“Lower your voice.”
“Oh my God,” she said. “You never go home with customers.”
“He wasn’t exactly a customer.”
“Then who was he?”
I stared at the ceiling.
“Sebastian Sinclair.”
Silence. Then
“THE Sebastian Sinclair?”
“Yes.”
“You slept with a billionaire?” I groaned.
“That’s not the point.”
“That is absolutely the point!”
“Priscila”
“What happened? Did he treat you well? Is he hot in real life?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
“You ask too many questions.”
“And you’re avoiding them.”
Because I didn’t know the answers myself.
All I knew was that last night had changed something.
And I had a feeling it wasn’t over.
Not even close.
Across the city, in the Sinclair penthouse, Sebastian stood by the window watching the sunrise.
His assistant waited nervously behind him.
“She left,” the assistant said carefully.
“I know.”
“Should
we find her?”
Sebastian was silent for a moment.
Then he smiled slightly.
“No.”
The assistant looked confused.
“Why not?”
Sebastian’s gaze drifted toward the empty bedroom behind him.
“She’ll come back.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
Sebastian’s smile widened.
“Then I’ll find her.”
- Writer
