chapter 153
Sebastian's POV:
The ultrasound images were still burning in my mind as I watched Marcus's car disappear down the drive, taking Elena to Luna Cross's estate.
She'd been practically glowing after the appointment—our baby growing strong, heartbeats steady as drums. Then Luna had appeared with that specific brand of pregnant woman enthusiasm, insisting Elena come see her newly decorated nursery.
"Please?" Elena had asked, her hand finding mine. "Just for a few hours. Luna's been so kind, and I could use some normal friend time."
I'd seen the hope in her eyes, the need for connection with friends, and found myself nodding.
Now, alone in my office with reports I couldn't focus on, I reached for my phone. It had been days since that explosive night at the estate—Grace's manipulation exposed, Sophia banished upstairs, and the devastating misunderstanding between Rose and Nicholas finally cleared.
I'd been giving him space to process it all, but the silence was starting to feel unnatural.
I wondered how he was handling the aftermath. Whether Rose had forgiven him. Whether they'd found their way back to each other or if five years of damage was too much to repair.
He answered on the third ring, background noise suggesting somewhere crowded and distinctly cheerful. "Missing me already?"
"Hardly." I leaned back in my chair, noting the sounds of children laughing. "Where are you?"
"The happiest place on earth." His tone was dry as aged wine. "Lily insisted on meeting every princess. We're currently in line for Elsa."
I couldn't suppress a snort. "Nicholas Blackwood at Disney. How the mighty have fallen."
"Rose is here too," he added, and something in his voice shifted. Softer. "Lily wanted her mommy to see the castle."
The words carried weight. Progress, then—the whole family at an amusement park together. Something that would have been unthinkable just a week ago.
"How is she?" I kept my tone carefully neutral.
"Getting there. Slowly." A pause, then with characteristic confidence: "Give us a few months. We'll be giving you and Elena a run for your money in the happiness department."
"Delusional," I said flatly.
"Just wait. Rose and I have —"
I hung up before he could finish, but I was smiling despite myself. For all his bravado, there had been genuine hope in his voice. After five years of misery, Nicholas was finally reaching for happiness.
Good. It was about time for us to get it right.
My phone buzzed immediately. A text from him: Rude. But I'll forgive you when I'm proven right.
I didn't bother responding. Let him have his optimism. After everything he'd been through, he'd earned it.
---
Three days later, I found myself flipping through a stack of industry magazines in my study.
The glossy pages of Fragrance Quarterly caught my attention. The LUMIÈRE competition results were in. I scanned the rankings, already knowing Elena would have taken first place. Her talent was undeniable, her submissions had been flawless—
There. Second place: Elena Ross.
My jaw clenched as I read further. First place had gone to someone named Mia Smith, whose bio touted her as a "revolutionary young talent redefining botanical fragrances."
I was already reaching for my phone to call Marcus, to have him look into the judging panel, when I caught myself. Elena wouldn't want that. She'd be furious if she knew I was even considering interfering.
Instead, I found myself at the patisserie an hour later, selecting the most elaborate strawberry cake they had. If I couldn't fix this injustice, at least I could offer comfort.
When I arrived home, Elena was in the garden room, her workspace transformed into an alchemist's paradise of glass vials and delicate flowers. She looked up as I entered, her smile tired but genuine.
"You saw the results," she said. It wasn't a question.
I set the cake box on the side table, watching her carefully. "You'll always be number one to me."
She shrugged, turning back to her work. "Second place in preliminaries isn't bad, Sebastian. There's still the finals."
"You're not upset?" I couldn't keep the surprise from my voice.
"My mother used to tell me something," Elena interrupted my spiraling thoughts. Her fingers traced the edge of a rose petal. "She said the love of creation should be the fuel, not the recognition. That winning was nice, but it was the joy of making something beautiful that mattered."
She spoke of her mother so rarely that I found myself holding my breath, afraid to break the spell.
"She sounds wise," I ventured carefully.
"She was." Elena's voice carried that particular softness that meant she was lost in memory. "I wish..."
The sentence hung unfinished. I knew what she wished. That her mother had lived to see her success. To meet her grandchildren. To be here for all the moments that mattered.
I moved behind her chair, my hands settling on her shoulders. "Tell me about her."
For a moment, I thought she wouldn't answer.
Then, quietly: "She smelled like jasmine and vanilla. She'd wear it in her hair when she taught art classes. Even when we had nothing, she'd save coins to buy fresh flowers for the house. She said beauty didn't require wealth, just attention."
My thumbs worked at the tension in her shoulders as she spoke.
"She would have been proud of you," I said finally.
Elena leaned back into my touch. "I hope so. Too bad she'll never know."
The quiet finality in her voice made my chest tighten. Another reminder of all the things I knew but couldn't say. Not yet.
"She will know," I said softly, the words carrying more truth than she could realize.
---
Later, in my study, I found myself pulling up the competition results again.
Mia Smith's portfolio was impressive, I had to admit. But it lacked the soul that Elena poured into every creation. It was technical perfection without heart.
My phone buzzed. Marcus.
"Sir, I've looked into the judging panel."
I hadn't requested it. Not out loud. But Marcus knew me well enough to anticipate. "And?"
"Three of the five judges have financial ties to Smith Pharmaceuticals. Mia Smith's family company."
My grip on the phone tightened. "Smith again."