<h4>Chapter 252: Chapter 252 Edinburgh Secrets</h4>


    Cecilia’s pov


    The dark rain streaked across the window as Sebastian’s words echoed in the cabin.


    Sebastian’s expression remained impassive. "This is Edinburgh. I need to pick someone up."


    Sawyer and I exchanged a look that spoke volumes.


    The unspoken "Amara?" hung in the air between us, but I bit my tongue. I’d find out soon enough.


    Edinburgh greeted us with a fog-draped mncholy, its cobblestone streets slick with rain.


    Our car slid through deserted avenues, headlights slicing through the mist until we stopped before an ancient castle that loomed against the night sky.


    Another towering relic straight out of a gothic novel.


    Sebastian instructed Tang and Sawyer to remain in the car, gesturing for me to follow. Inside, the castle dwarfed even the fortress on the ind, its cavernous halls stretching into shadow.


    The air smelled of old stone and long-buried secrets.


    On the fifth floor, two burly men approached.


    Despite their casual clothes, everything about them screamed security--broad shoulders, vignt eyes, and the unmistakable bearing of trained wolves.


    They nodded respectfully. "Alpha Sebastian."


    "How’s our guest?" Sebastian asked.


    "Vtile at first," one replied. "We were lucky Amara got here early--she talked them down before it escted."


    I felt my brow furrow. Guest? And Amara was already here? The puzzle pieces weren’t lining up.


    The men led us down a corridor to a closed door. Sebastian entered first, and I followed close behind.


    The sight inside froze me in my tracks. In the center of the room sat Amara, dining across from a middle-aged woman with a plump figure.


    Mrs. Dahlia.


    My brain scrambled to process the image. The same high-society phnthropist who’d partnered with Maggie--the woman who helped frame me--was now casually having dinner in a gothic castle like it was a Tuesday book club.


    Both women looked up. Amara’s face lit with excitement as she pushed back from the table.


    "Sebastian!" She practically flew toward him. "I thought you’d forgotten about me."


    Before she could reach him, Sebastian pulled me forward, effectively creating a barrier between himself and the approaching woman.


    "Take her outside," he murmured to me. "I need a private word with Mrs. Dahlia."


    "On it," I responded, not hiding my satisfaction as I hooked my arm through Amara’s and steered her toward the door. "Come on, let’s take a walk. I have some questions for you anyway."


    Amara’s face crumpled with frustration. She jerked her arm away once we were in the hallway.


    "Don’t touch me," she snapped, stalking ahead.


    We found a small alcove away from prying ears. I decided to strike first.


    "I met Evelyn," I said, my voice deliberately strained.


    The effect was immediate. Amara’s eyes sharpened, her previous sullenness vanishing like morning mist.


    "Hmph," she smirked. "All that talk about how Sebastian was just a game to you--I knew it was an act. You’repletely in love with him, aren’t you? Desperately in love."


    Love? Not quite. Desperate? Try again.


    I kept my internal monologue to myself, instead lowering my eyes and affecting a devastated expression. "Why mock me? You didn’t win against her either. We’re in the same boat."


    "I am nothing like you!" Amara folded her arms across her chest, chin tilted up in practiced aristocratic disdain. "After meeting Evelyn, you must feelpletely inadequate. She’s got real pedigree. If she hadn’t been so career-obsessed, you wouldn’t have stood a chance. Sebastian ispletely different with her... you have no idea how gentle he is around her."


    Gentle? Was she serious?


    I wondered if Amara’s brain automatically rewrote reality whenever Sebastian interacted with any woman.


    It reminded me of our first meeting in Singapore--how she’d instantly bristled with hostility, convinced I was some kind of romantic threat.


    "Must’ve been tough, having such a formidable rival," I said lightly.


    Her smile turned razor-sharp. "Why do you keep dragging me into this? Trying to spread your misery?"


    "Whatever pain I felt," she continued, "is nothingpared to yours. That night Sebastian went to see her in London.He came backte, didn’t he? Just imagine what they were doing all that time... "


    Her strategy was obvious: she’d flown to London with one mission--to weaponize Evelyn. She wanted to nt doubt, insecurity. After all, how do youpete with someone’s first love?


    I dropped the heartbroken act and met her eyes with a steady smile. My silence made her shift, just slightly, like she’d misjudged the temperature of the room.


    "What are you staring at?" she snapped.


    I leaned forward, voice soft but deliberate. "I just realized...maybe you don’t love Sebastian as much as you think. Because when someone’s in love, really in love... they can’t even imagine the person they love with someone else. It hurts too much."


    "No one loves him more than I do!" she shot back.


    I gave her a sad smile. "Maybe. But real love is fragile. It can’t tolerate even a sliver of betrayal--it’s like a speck of ss in your eye. Evelyn isn’t a speck. She’s a sandstorm. And you didn’t even flinch."


    "That’s not true," she said, but her voice had lost its edge.


    "It is. You’re not afraid of losing Sebastian. You’re afraid of losing."


    I exhaled slowly. "Now I see it clearly. What you feel--it’s not love. It’s obsession. Maybe once upon a time, you loved him. But you’ve been stuck in this loop for so long you can’t tell the difference anymore. You’ve turned yourself into a rival instead of a woman with her own story."


    Her pupils widened, like I’d held up a mirror she wasn’t ready to look into.


    Seeing her stunned, I pressed on. "You’re brilliant, beautiful, aplished. You don’t need to shrink yourself for a man who’s already made his choice. Let him go. Let yourself go. You won’t find what’s next until you stop looking backward."


    I stood and walked away. Behind me, I could practically hear her thoughts wing at the edges of my words--trying to dismiss them, and failing.