<h4>Chapter 225: Chapter 225 A Fractured Facade</h4>


    Sebastian’s pov


    I watched her walk away--back straight, heels sharp against the floor.


    A smile twitched at the corner of my mouth, automatic. It faded before it ever got real.


    By the time she turned the corner, all I felt was cold.


    I cleared my throat and picked up the phone.


    "Evelyn."


    "Sebastian. About what you mentionedst night--having Vance and me set up that connection for you. We heard back this morning, but... Vance thinks you should stay clear of these people. They’re not exactly Sunday brunch types, and frankly, we’re worried. You’re a dear friend. We don’t want you getting in too deep."


    "I know what I’m doing," I said. "But thank you."


    She hesitated. Then softened.


    "Okay,e by tonight. We’ve got it arranged. Just... watch your back, alright?"


    "Noted."


    A pause. Then her voice lifted, just a shade too bright.


    "Cassian mentioned you’re seeing someone. He said you’re absolutely smitten. Vance and I are dying to meet the woman who finally tamed Alpha Sebastian."


    Girlfriend.


    The wordnded like a stone in my chest, t and heavy.


    It echoed once, then rang hollow.


    "She... I don’t think she ever signed up for that title," I said, quieter than I meant to. "I think I just wanted it badly enough to believe it."


    Evelyn caught the shift in my tone. She didn’t push.


    Instead, her voice smoothed into something practical, professional.


    She gave me the details for tonight’s meeting, confirmed the address, and ended the call with a gentle goodbye.


    I rose from the table, my coffee untouched, and walked out of the dining room.


    The house felt colder than it had before. Or maybe I was just noticing it now.


    At the window, I spotted Cecilia outside in the courtyard, still holding her coffee, mechanical movements. Alone.


    Her back was to me, but even her silhouette looked distant. Closed-off.


    I just stood there, watching her through the pane.


    And wondered--quietly, hopelessly--what it would take... to ever be enough for her.


    --


    By nine o’clock, we were en route to the branch office. Tang was at the wheel, while Sawyer sat across from me, tablet in hand, walking me through the day.


    "First stop, the branch boardroom. Then the summit you’re speaking at this afternoon. Tonight’s the wee event--they’re calling it a reception, but it’s basically a cocktail mixer in your honor," Sawyer said, ncing over his notes.


    Cecilia sat beside me, posture perfect, gaze forward. She looked attentive enough.


    "You and Miss Moore can attend the reception without me," I said evenly. "I have other ns."


    Sawyer paused mid-scroll. "...Understood."


    Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Cecilia’s head tilt--just slightly.


    The sarcasm in her silence was almost palpable.


    I turned toward her. "Does Miss Moore have any objections?"


    "None whatsoever," she replied smoothly, without missing a beat.


    "Boss," Tang called from the front, tone far too casual for the tension in the car. "Why not take Cecilia with you tonight? Feels like the perfect setting for some... quality time."


    Cecilia’s head whipped around so fast, I half-expected to hear vertebrae crack.


    "Tang," she said sharply, "that’s not appropriate. The Alpha has his own agenda tonight. Important contacts. Private ones."


    I let the silence stretch for a beat too long.


    "Indeed," I said finally, keeping my voice level. "Miss Moore is correct. I have someone important to meet. It wouldn’t be... suitable for her to join."


    "Good. I wasn’t nning to," Cecilia muttered, folding her arms, eyes fixed on the window.


    Sawyer suddenly found something very interesting on his screen.Tang gripped the steering wheel like it might save his life.


    The car went quiet.


    --


    Arriving at the branch office was, if nothing else, a brief escape from the frost that had settled between Cecilia and me.


    A cluster of executives waited at the entrance, all sharp suits and tight smiles.


    They ushered me inside with a rehearsed efficiency, narrating every hallway and ss door like they were trying to sell me the building.


    I nodded, made the right noises, but didn’t bother pretending I was interested.


    The showroom disy looked like it hadn’t been updated since the Bush administration. I didn’tment.


    Eventually, we made it to the conference room for what had been billed as a performance review.


    It was exactly what I expected: PowerPoint decks overloaded with buzzwords, metrics no one questioned, and department heads congratting themselves in increasingly creative ways.


    I sat through it, coffee in hand, nodding at intervals, not because I agreed, but because it was easier than interrupting.


    After lunch, I brought Cecilia and Sawyer to the regional business summit across town--a polished affair packed with executives, keynote speakers, and just enough catered coffee to keep the small talk flowing.


    The rest of the team stayed behind to dig into the operational weeds--the kind of details I trusted them to handle because I had no interest in micromanaging spreadsheets.


    Once in work mode, Cecilia was nothing short of surgical.


    She moved with the calm precision of someone who’d memorized the ybook and rewritten half of it.


    Every task I handed off waspleted before I could finish the sentence.


    She anticipated needs I didn’t know I had.


    Among the assistants and coordinators flitting around the venue, none matched her efficiency.


    Sawyer grew so rxed under her watch that he nearly nodded off during the keynote.


    When the summit finally wrapped and we returned to the car, the earlier efficiency gave way once again to that familiar chill--a silence that wasn’t hostile, but something worse--indifference.


    Cecilia, seated beside me, had perfected the art of pretending I didn’t exist the moment her badge came off.