<h4>Chapter 223: Chapter 223 Beneath the Silence</h4>


    Cecilia’s pov


    The house settled into that peculiar quiet thates with early evening--the brief pause between day and night.


    Tang nearly bounced on his heels as he nudged me toward the stairs.


    "Go on. Call the Alpha down. Mrs. Linda pulled out all the stops tonight."


    I recognized his little game immediately.


    Ever since the incident with Amara, he’d been trying to redeem himself through these "helpful" nudges that just happened to throw Sebastian and me together.


    "Fine," I sighed, setting down my book. "I’ll go find him."


    Truthfully, I didn’t mind. It was my job, after all--keeping Sebastian on schedule, making sure he remembered basic human functions like eating.


    Along the way, I could grab Sawyer too.


    Upstairs, I knocked on the door to Sebastian’s study. No answer.


    I was about to knock again when the bedroom door swung open and Sebastian emerged, dressed in fresh clothes--dark cks and a charcoal button-down that looked tailored within an inch of its life. Definitely not loungewear.


    "Alpha, will you be joining us for dinner?" I asked, keeping my voice carefully neutral.


    He adjusted his cuff with practiced ease. "Not tonight. I have a meeting."


    A brief pause. "Don’t wait up."


    "Of course." I stepped aside automatically, making room in the hallway.


    Sebastian paused, his eyes lingering on my face a moment longer than necessary.


    Something in his expression softened.


    "Get some rest tonight," he said, his voice low, almost like a secret."The weather here shifts quickly. Take care of yourself."


    Then he was gone, moving like a shadow that forgot to make a sound.


    I didn’t move. Just stood there, caught in the hush he left behind.


    Barely a dozen words--yet something had shifted.Since our talk on the ne, even the quiet carried weight.


    "Cecilia."The sound of my name snapped me out of it.


    I turned to find Sawyer watching me, his eyes steady, a little too knowing.


    "Dinner’s ready," I said, recovering with a smile.


    He nced toward the stairs."Old friend called, heard Alpha was in London. Prettyst-minute."


    "I know. He mentioned it," I said, face carefully nk.


    Something like relief crossed Sawyer’s features. "Good. That’s good. Well, shall we? Mrs. Linda’s cooking is worth experiencing. You should eat while it’s hot."


    "Yeah... sure." I followed him, though part of me was still upstairs.


    Dinner wasvish by any standard--roasted duck with orange ze, potatoes that melted like butter, and vegetables I couldn’t even name.


    Sawyer and I barely made a dent in our tes, but Tang did his part--he was already on his third round before we’d finished our first.


    After dinner, I felt restless.


    The rain hadn’t stopped all day, and the house felt heavier with every hour that passed.


    "I’m going for a walk," I announced.


    Tang materialized beside me like he’d been summoned. "Great idea. I’ll grab my jacket."


    "Tang," I sighed. "I’d like some time alone."


    "Alpha’s orders," he shrugged, already zipping up his weatherproof. "You go out, I follow."


    I bit back a retort. Some battles weren’t worth fighting.


    The evening air hit my face with a crisp bite--London’s signature cocktail of mist and encroaching cold.


    I pulled my coat tighter and headed right from the gate, my boots clicking against the wet pavement.


    Tang, to his credit, kept a respectful distance.


    Just close enough to intervene if needed, just far enough to give me the illusion of solitude.


    My phone rang, breaking the quiet.


    Unknown number.


    I declined the call.


    It rang again.


    I declined again.


    By the fourth consecutive ring, irritation red hot in my chest.


    I swiped to answer, ready to verbally eviscerate whoever was on the other end.


    "Who is this and what part of ’not answering’ wasn’t clear?" I snapped.


    A brief silence, then a familiar voice. "Someone’s touchy tonight. I knew all that calm this morning was just an act. Sebastian’s out meeting his precious Evelyn, and you’re not happy about it, are you?"


    Amara. Of course.


    I stopped walking, my stomach dropping like an elevator with cut cables.


    "Evelyn?" I frowned. "How do you even know he’s out? Are you having him followed?"


    "Never mind how I know," she purred. "Just tell me--he’s gone out without you, hasn’t he?"


    "Yes, he’s out," I admitted.


    Herugh was sharp, triumphant. "I knew it. The second hends in London, he runs straight to Evelyn. And let me guess--he didn’t tell you the truth about where he was going, did he? Oh Cecilia, we’re both just pawns in his game."


    I couldn’t help the dryugh that escaped me. "Seriously? Your attempt at maniption is about as subtle as a neon sign. You struck out, so now you’re tag-teaming with some mystery woman?"


    "You’re right about one thing--he definitely sent me away on purpose. But don’t think that means you’ve won."


    I exhaled slowly, suddenly tired.


    "This isn’t apetition, Amara. There’s no prize--especially not him."


    "I’m not interested in ying, so stop showing up like I’m your rival."


    I hung up and blocked her number in one smooth motion.


    --


    Miles away, in a stone castle surrounded by ancient oaks, Amara sat alone in an opulent room, nursing her third ss of whiskey.


    She stared at her phone, cursing when she realized Cecilia had blocked her. She was contemting her next move when headlights swept across her window--a ck sedan winding up the long drive, bearing a nervous-looking woman whose hands trembled against the leather seat.


    --


    After Amara’s call, the weight in my chest crystallized into a cold, jagged knot.


    I found a bench outside a quaint café, its windows glowing a warm amber against the deepening dusk.


    I sat there, arms folded tightly across my chest, watching strangers hurry by with their cors turned up against the chill and their eyes fixed on some ce more important than here.


    Logically, I knew what Amara was doing. To nt doubt the way some people scatter wildflower seeds, hoping something invasive took root.


    And yet...


    I was good at pushing things aside, tucking thoughts into neat boxes.


    But some boxes refused to stay shut.


    After a few minutes, I stood and headed back. Each step heavier than thest.


    At the door, I barely nced at Tang before slipping past him and heading upstairs.