<h4>Chapter 176: Chapter 176 Uninvited Guest</h4>


    Cecilia’s pov


    Harper!


    That traitor. That spy. That absolutely insufferable idiot.


    She was going to be the death of me.


    Sebastian looked like a walking time bomb in my living room--primed to explode and demolish the fragile wall I’d built between my personal life and my professional one.


    Just looking at him made my pulse spike.


    But I’d always been good at hiding my true feelings.


    I pulled myself together, pasted on a serene smile, and turned to Harper.


    "Harper, how thoughtful of you," I said sweetly, each word dipped in sugar andced with poison. "Thank you so much, my dearest friend..."


    I’m going to bury you in your sleep.


    Harper wilted under my razor-sharp smile, her handsing up in a gesture of pure surrender.


    "Oh, no need to thank me!"Her mouth said one thing, but her eyes were screaming for mercy.


    I felt my chest tighten with frustration as I turned to Sebastian, forcing ayer of icy politeness into my tone.


    "Mr. ck, a little warning would’ve been nice," I said. "I wasn’t exactly prepared to host you tonight."


    Sebastian returned my fake smile with one of effortless charm.


    "That’s quite alright," he said smoothly. "I’m not picky when ites to food."


    "Well... alright then," I replied, locking eyes with him.


    We stared at each other in silence, a subtle standoff to see who could keep up the more convincing facade.


    Spoiler: I was losing. Badly.


    Mom nced between us, clearly sensing something strange but choosing diplomacy over interrogation.


    "Mr. ck, please don’t just stand there-e in and make yourselffortable," she said with her usual warmth.


    Sebastian nodded graciously, stepping forward to ce the gift box on the coffee table, and settled onto the couch with the kind of poise that seemed to shrink the room around him.


    Mom disappeared into the kitchen to grab some drinks, with Harper scurrying after her, throwing me a conspiratorial wink over her shoulder.


    The second they were out of sight, my smile crumbled, and my whole expression copsed into pure, unfiltered distress.


    I sank onto the edge of the sofa, shooting Sebastian a wary look. "What are you doing here?"


    Was he trying to give me a heart attack? Because if so, mission aplished.


    He looked maddeningly at home, his arm stretched possessively along the back of the couch as if iming the entire space. "Rx, Miss Moore. I’m simply having dinner at my girlfriend’s house. Getting to know the inws. You know, basic boyfriend duties." He added a wink for good measure. "Don’t worry--I’ll behave. Until you’re ready to go public, my lips are sealed."


    He dropped the word girlfriend like it wasn’t a verbal grenade, while I was sitting there trying to remember how to breathe.


    "I cannot with you right now." I red at him. "One more word and I swear you’re getting a fork to the knee."


    His eyes lit up like I’d just threatened him with dessert.


    He leaned in ever so slightly, voice dropping into a low, teasing murmur.


    "And here I was hoping for something a little more... hands-on."


    That voice. That look. That maddening smirk.


    My face flushed instantly.


    "Sebastian," I hissed. "Be serious."


    Author’s pov


    In the kitchen, Harper yanked a slightly-too-golden casserole out of the oven like she was defusing a bomb.


    Esther, ever theposed matriarch, casually set a tray of mugs on the counter and said, without preamble,


    "So. Does Mr. ck have a thing for Cecilia?"


    Harper blinked. Damn. No warm-up, no subtle lead-in--just a verbal sniper shot.


    *Jesus, she’s good, *Harper thought. *No wonder Cecilia turned out the way she did.*


    "Him?" Harper echoed, feigning surprise with all the grace of a B-list actress in a soap opera.


    "Mr.ck definitely respects her work. She’s been killing it at the office. But romantic interest?" She shrugged. "Who can say?"


    Esther gave a knowing hum, the kind that said, I’ve been around the block, kid.


    "Save it, Harper. I changed that girl’s diapers. You think I can’t spot chemistry when it’s crackling across my living room?"


    With that, she picked up the tray and glided out like she hadn’t just dropped a conversational grenade.


    Out on the balcony, VanDyck had been watering his sulents and pretending not to eavesdrop.


    He walked in just as Sebastian stood to greet him, the kind of polished, annoyingly unppable guy who probably ironed his T-shirts.


    "Good evening, Mr. Moore," Sebastian said smoothly, extending a hand with practiced charm.


    Before he could say more, Cecilia swooped in like a defensive lineman.


    "Dad, this is Mr.ck. My boss."


    VanDyck raised an eyebrow. The title clearly registered--and so did Sebastian’s very expensive face.


    "Pleasure to meet you," he said, shaking hands. "Didn’t realize Cecilia’s new job came with... perks."


    Esther returned with the mugs, her eyes narrowing slightly as she scanned Sebastian head to toe like a TSA agent with trust issues.


    Sebastian, to his credit, didn’t flinch. He offered them drinks, made pleasant small talk, and somehow managed to steer the conversation toward literature without sounding like a pretentious ass.


    Cecilia, who had been silently calcting all possible escape routes, bolted for the kitchen.


    Inside, she and Harper huddled behind the cracked kitchen door like spies.


    "He’s talking about Virginia Woolf with your mom," Harper whispered. "And--wait--he brought books. Out-of-print ones. He pulled them out of a gift bag like some kind of literary magician."


    Cecilia peeked through the gap and saw her mom’s eyes light up like it was Christmas morning.


    "She’s smiling," Harper hissed. "Like actually smiling. What the hell is happening?"


    Cecilia didn’t answer. She was too busy having a minor existential crisis.


    Cut to fifteen minutester.


    Round two of espionage revealed Sebastian chatting casually with VanDyck about global markets and fiscal policy like it was the NFL draft.


    Somewhere mid-discussion, he opened the sleek ck box sitting on the coffee table.


    "I came on short notice and didn’t know what to bring," he said. "This orchid’s been sitting around my ce, and I travel too much to take care of it properly. Cecilia mentioned you’re into nts, so..."


    VanDyck adjusted his sses, took one look, and nearly dropped the thing.


    "This--this is a pure crown orchid. In pristine condition."


    He sounded like someone had handed him a signed Beatles vinyl.


    "It’s a bit much," VanDyck added, clearing his throat. "I don’t think I can ept something this valuable."


    Sebastian gave a casual shrug. "Honestly, I have no idea what it’s worth. A friend gave it to me. It’s been gathering dust on a bookshelf."


    VanDyck looked personally offended. "You left this in a bookshelf?"


    He cradled the orchid like it was a newborn. "Well... I suppose I could foster it for a while."


    "Perfect," Sebastian said, smiling. "When it blooms, I’d love to see it again."


    "You’re on."


    Esther reappeared with a hardcover in hand and practically dragged Sebastian into a heated debate about modernist prose.


    Cecilia just stood frozen in the hallway like her world had tilted sideways.


    "Jesus," Harper muttered. "He’s good. Like, dangerously good."


    "He’s CIA-level maniptive," Cecilia mumbled, rubbing her temple. "He’s already infiltrated the entire household."


    Dinner passed in a suspiciously peaceful blur.


    VanDyck opened his prized bottle of whiskey--normally reserved for holidays or near-death experiences--and rhapsodized about orchids.


    Esther, who usually tuned out these rants, was now actively participating.


    Cecilia, who usually zoned out after sentence three, found herself nodding and pretending to care.


    Meanwhile, Sebastian sat there like he’d been adopted into the family and given a seat in the will.


    Then--


    Ding-dong.


    Everyone froze.


    Cecilia nced at her parents. Both looked genuinely puzzled.


    Harper shook her head. "Not me. I swear."


    "Oh!" Esther gasped. "I almost forgot." She tapped her forehead and stood to answer the door.


    Ding-dong.


    The second chime came faster. More aggressive.


    Like whoever was outside wasn’t big on patience.


    Cecilia’s pulse skipped.


    The night had been going too well--and in her experience, nothing good ever followed a second doorbell.