Cecilia’s pov
Finally, Sebastian had reached his breaking point.
With little concern for gentleness, he peeled Amara off me, gripping her wrist firmly as he steered her into a chair like a misbehaving child.
His voice cut through the restaurant like a whip.
“Look at yourself! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Amara froze, and for the first time, seemed to realize how completely unhinged she looked.
She buried her face in her hands, too mortified to let Sebastian see the tear-and-mascara-streaked wreck she’d become.
I stood to the side, watching him lay into her.
His anger was completely raw now–visible, flashing through his eyes
Like lightning behind storm clouds.
sin all our time together, I’d seen him composed, cold even.
A man built on control, the kind who could deliver a boardroom takedown without raising his voice or breaking a sweat.
He was pure quiet intensity–the kind of man who didn’t blow up but the kind of man whose anger was a slow, deep burn, not a flash fire.
And yet, somehow, Amara always managed to set him off.
In Singapore. Now here.
Some people just know how to push all the wrong buttons–and she wore it like a talent.
“You two need to talk,” I said evenly, brushing invisible lint off my ruined dress. “I’ll wait outside.”
Before Sebastian could respond, I was already headed for the door, not looking back.
I stopped at the counter and paid, ignoring the restaurant owner’s wide eyes and barely-concealed curiosity–the kind of look people wear when they know they’re going to be the first to spill the tea in the neighborhood Facebook group.
You could practically hear the rumor mill buzzing to life, like someone had just lit a match in dry brush.
I stepped outside, found a patch of shade beneath a maple tree, and sat down on the bench there.
The warm breeze ruffled my hair, and I closed my eyes, letting my pulse settle.
About fifteen minutes later, Sebastian emerged–with Amara trailing behind him.
She’d apparently cleaned herself up.
The woman who’d been clinging to me like a crazy person, sobbing uncontrollably, now stood with red-rimmed eyes, attempting to reclaim her cool, proud demeanor.
She approached me, refusing to make eye contact, her head tilted away as she spoke through a still-stuffy nose.
“I’m sorry for how I acted earlier,” she mumbled. “I’ll pay you back for the dress.”
Without waiting for my response, she hurried to her car and drove away.
I watched her white sedan disappear down the street and sighed
So she did recognize how out of line she’d been after all.
Acting so high and mighty in public, yet behind closed doors, completely falling apart over a man…
“I told her if she pulls another stunt like this, I’m having her transferred out of Denver,” Sebastian said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
I snapped back to reality. “Good.”
Checking my watch, I added, “Let’s go. Your half hour is up, and even if you’re still hungry, we’ll have to grab something to go.”
I slipped my hand into his suit pocket and retrieved his car keys. “I’ll drive. You rest.”
Sebastian’s gaze dropped to mine. He tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes. “You’re upset.”
“A little,” I admitted, grimacing at the front of my dress. “My clothes are ruined, and I’ll have to change when we get back to the office. It’s annoying.”
Sebastian studied me for a moment before taking the keys back. “I’ll drive.”
I didn’t argue. “Fine.”
After all, the cat was out of the bag now. Things had shifted, and pretending otherwise would be a waste of energy.
If people talked, they talked.
Every workplace had its gossip network, and sooner or later, someone else would be the hot topic.
I had more important things to worry about–like getting this mascara out of my hair.
Back at the office, I changed into my backup outfit and washed the affected parts of my hair in the bathroom.

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