<h4>Chapter 196: Chapter 196 Heat of the Moment</h4>


    Author’s pov


    Outside, the summer sun zed without mercy, making the air shimmer over the asphalt.


    Inside the car, even the A/C couldn’t cool the heat simmering beneath Sebastian’s gaze.


    Across from him, Cecilia’s heartbeat quickened, her cheeks flushing a soft pink under the weight of his eyes.


    Sebastian’s lips curved into an unapologetic smile--equal parts charming and dangerous.


    He leaned over and gave her cheek a light, teasing pinch.


    "Fine, fine. No eating anyone alive in broad daylight," he said with azy grin. "But I’m still hungry--for food, of course."


    With that, he turned his attention back to the road, pulling smoothly into traffic.


    A few minutester, they passed a sleek Thai restaurant with minimalist décor visible through tall ss windows--urban, modern, and totally Instagrammable.


    "How about that ce?" Cecilia asked, pointing. "Thai food’s light enough for this brutal heat."


    "Perfect," Sebastian replied, sliding into a nearby parking space like he owned the block.


    They got out and crossed the sidewalk, taking their time, the air between them crackling with an energy that had little to do with the temperature.


    Across the street, a white sedan sat there, its engine humming quietly.


    Inside, Amara sat stiff as a board, her posture as rigid as her jaw.


    She’d been following them since they left the office, losing them briefly in traffic before spotting Sebastian’s ridiculously shy car again. Sleek. ck. Absurdly expensive. Of course.


    Her eyes narrowed as she watched the pair walk casually into the restaurant--no briefcase, no conference calls, no associates.


    Just the two of them, strolling shoulder to shoulder, like a couple.


    She gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles went white.


    So this was the "business meeting"? A lunch date with the woman who didn’t know her ce.


    She grabbed her phone, took a few shots through the windshield, and began typing with vicious intent.


    Godmother,


    Sebastian’s ditching work again. He imed a business meeting, but he’s at a restaurant with Cecilia Moore. Alone.


    Miles away, Luna Regina read the message with a deepening frown.


    Back at the restaurant, Cecilia had no clue about the drama brewing across the street.


    To her, it was simply a hot summer day, and a nice lunch.


    She had no idea that the moment she stepped through those doors, someone had already begun cooking up the next Chapter of office gossip.


    Cecilia’s pov


    Something in the air made me pause--an instinct, maybe.


    A shiver without a reason.


    But I was too distracted by the man sitting across from me--all white linen, rolled-up sleeves.


    Sebastian had already ordered several dishes without even ncing at the menu.


    He handled it the way he did everything else: like the world had been pre-programmed to amodate him.


    Smooth. Efficient. Unbothered.


    "It’s twelve forty-five," I said, checking my watch.


    "You’ve got maybe thirty minutes to eat before we need to head back. You have that board meeting this afternoon."


    Sebastian smirked. "Cece, I already told you--I don’t bite. You don’t have to be so nervous."


    Which, of course, was exactly what someone who absolutely bites would say.


    Despite his words, he got up and slid into the seat beside me.


    I nced at him, my heartbeat ticking up a notch, tongue darting out to wet my lips without conscious thought.


    I ced the soup in front of him. "Here. It’s a bit stuffy--I’ll open a window."


    The window creaked open easily, a warm southern breeze slipping in, carrying the scent of sunbaked streets and magnolia trees.


    When I turned back, my path was blocked.


    Sebastian stood there, arms braced on either side of the windowsill, effectively caging me in.


    He wasn’t touching me, but it felt like he was everywhere.


    "Cece," he murmured, voice low enough to melt steel, "did you slip something in my soup?"


    His eyes burned. "I only took one sip, but I’m feeling incredibly... hot."


    He leaned in, lips brushing mine. "I really want to kiss you."


    A shiver shot straight through me.


    I swallowed hard, and with the kind of reckless courage that onlyes from knowing we were alone, I rose on tiptoe and pressed my lips to his.


    Like striking a match in a dry forest, the spark exploded.


    His arm wrapped around my waist, yanking me against him.


    His mouth nted over mine, iming, coaxing, devouring.


    Outside, sunlight zed, cicadas screamed.


    Inside, it was just him--his mouth, his hands, the way he made my pulse trip and tumble like a drunk girl in high heels.


    My breath hitched. My fingers curled in his shirt like they were holding on for dear life.


    My spine arched. My knees forgot how to behave.


    Knock knock!


    The sudden rapping at the door startled me so badly I bit Sebastian’s lip.


    He flinched.


    "Shit--sorry," I breathed, eyes wide.


    Yet rather than anger, he merely frowned toward the door.


    I pushed him away, embarrassed, and quickly fixed his shirt buttons before straightening my own clothes.


    "Come in," he called, voice tight with irritation.


    The door opened.


    The restaurant owner entered, followed by a frost-faced Amara.


    Her eyes immediately locked onto Sebastian’s injured lip, and her expression contorted with hatred.


    She looked ready to tear me apart with her bare hands.


    "Don’t tell me you just happened to be dining here too?" Sebastian’s voice was cial as he stared at Amara.


    I remained silent.


    She had obviously followed us here.


    Didn’t she realize that stalking only pushed men further away?


    Luna Regina’s strategy of cing Amara close to Sebastian seemed increasingly counterproductive.


    "Yes, actually," Amara replied, herposure cracking. "I saw your car and thought I’d say hello. Is that a problem? Or am I interrupting something... intimate?"


    Sebastian’s expression darkened with annoyance. "Yes, you are interrupting my lunch with my girlfriend. Get out!"


    The harshness of his dismissal broke something in Amara.


    Tears welled in her eyes and began streaming down her face inplete silence, making the restaurant owner shift awkwardly.


    I exhaled ufortably.


    With the way she was crying, you’d think we’d run over her dog and reversed for good measure.


    If I returned to the office with her looking like this, the gossip mill would short-circuit from sheer overload.


    Amara kept sobbing, full-body, Oscar-worthy sobs.


    Sebastian, clearly at the end of his rope, grabbed my hand to leave.


    "No, you can’t go!" Amara lunged forward, arms outstretched.


    Sebastian dodged her like a pro, but she pivoted--straight toward me.


    And unlike Sebastian, I wasn’t fast enough to avoid impact.


    Suddenly, I found myself trapped in a tear-drenched, snot-slicked embrace, her mascara-streaked face smearing a M-level tragedy all over my dress and freshly blow-dried hair.


    Help. Why was I in this rom horror scene?


    And this dress? Basically a month’s paycheck.


    "Let her go!" Sebastian snapped, his voice low and dangerous, patience officially out of stock.


    But I could see the dilemma etched into his face--he wouldn’t manhandle a crying woman, not even a deranged one.


    When he tried to gently pull her arm away, she yelped like he’d dislocated her shoulder, and he immediately let go.


    That’s when it hit me.


    My Alpha boyfriend had a fatal w--he waspletely powerless against weaponized tears.


    Despite the absurdity of it all, I couldn’t stop myself--Iughed.


    The sound made Amara freeze mid-wail.


    Then she doubled down, sobbing even louder, like she was trying to drown us all in her grief.


    She clung to me tighter like I was a life raft and she was the Titanic.


    Then came the shrieked usations:


    "What are youughing at?! I knew the second I saw you--you’d seduce him! You shouldn’t be together!"


    "Amara, please stop crying," I attempted reason.


    "You’re known for your cool, elegant beauty. Your makeup is running--you look like a horror movie extra.


    Please. Pull it together. Ugly-crying won’t get you a rewrite."


    At the mention of her ruined makeup, she made a sound somewhere between a sob and a growl--then promptly buried her face deeper into my chest.


    Sebastian’s eyes widened like he’d just witnessed a car crash in slow motion.


    I froze.


    I looked down at the head pressed against my boobs and had one singr, horrifying realization:


    Was I being emotionally held hostage and physically assaulted by my boyfriend’s deranged ex?