chapter 188
Elena's POV:
Henri's face transformed from hopeful anticipation to dawning horror as understanding crashed over him like a cold wave.
The bouquet of lilies trembled in his hands.
"Married?" His accent thickened with embarrassment. "But I... we all thought..."
I stood frozen in my office doorway, acutely aware of the pink balloons visible through the glass walls, the elaborate setup that had been prepared for what was clearly meant to be a romantic declaration.
My fingers found my wedding ring, twisting it nervously as heat crept up my neck.
I never imagined my first day would turn into such a spectacular misunderstanding.
They say the French are romantic, but this was taking it too far. Seeing Henri's mortified expression, I felt a wave of sympathy wash over me.
He looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.
"Here," I said gently, reaching for the lilies in his trembling hands. "Why don't we consider these a friendship bouquet instead? We're going to be colleagues after all."
Henri's face lit up with desperate gratitude, nodding so vigorously I worried he might strain something. "Oui, oui! Friends! Colleagues! This is... yes, much better."
I had just exhaled in relief, thinking we'd navigated the worst of it, when a familiar voice cut through the awkward atmosphere.
"Am I interrupting something?"
My breath caught halfway, neither fully in nor out.
Of course. His timing was absolutely perfect—if perfect meant maximum dramatic potential.
I took a deep breath, forcing my face into what I hoped was a bright, natural smile. Turning around, I walked over to Sebastian with deliberate casualness, sliding my arm through his.
"Honey, you're here to pick me up," I said, injecting as much sweetness into my voice as I could manage.
The endearment felt strange on my tongue—we rarely used such terms—but desperate times called for desperate measures.
Sebastian's fingers immediately tightened around mine, his grip firm but not painful.
I could see the exact moment understanding dawned in his eyes as he took in the scene—the balloons, the flowers, Henri's mortified expression. But instead of the storm I'd braced for, his lips curved into something almost... amused?
"Sebastian Vane," he introduced himself smoothly, extending his free hand to the group. "Elena's husband. I'm glad you all like Elena. I hope you'll all get along well together."
The professional courtesy in his tone surprised me. No threats, no icy glares, just a man collecting his wife from work.
"Of course, Mr. Vane," Sarah managed, still looking flustered. "We're lucky to have her."
"Well, then it's getting late, " He gave my hand a gentle tug. "Shall we? Evander's been asking for you all day."
As we walked toward the exit, I could hear the whispered explosion behind us.
"Did you see him? That jawline could cut glass!"
"Henri, mate, you never stood a chance. Look at him!"
"That's like bringing a butter knife to a gun fight..."
"Is he a model? He has to be a model."
"That suit alone costs more than my car."
I exhaled slowly as we reached the car, tension draining from my shoulders. "Thank you for not—"
The words died as Sebastian suddenly crowded me against the car door, his composure cracking like thin ice.
His mouth crashed into mine with desperate hunger, one hand tangling in my hair while the other pressed against the small of my back, holding me tight against him.
The kiss was consuming, almost punishing in its intensity.
I could taste his jealousy, feel it in the way he angled my head to deepen the kiss, swallowing the surprised sound I made. My hands clutched at his jacket, whether to push him away or pull him closer, I wasn't sure.
When he finally pulled back, we were both breathing hard.
"Mine," he growled against my lips. "You're mine, Elena. "
"Sebastian—"
He kissed me again, shorter but no less intense. "Say it."
"We're in the parking garage," I protested weakly.
"Say it." His thumb traced my bottom lip, still swollen from his kisses.
"Yours," I breathed. "Only yours."
"Good." He opened the car door for me, his hand possessive on my lower back as I slid inside. "Now let's go home before I decide to march back up there and make it even clearer."
Once we were home, Sebastian leaned against the kitchen counter, watching me as I poured myself a glass of water. His expression had shifted from jealous intensity to something softer, though still troubled.
"You're far too likeable," he said suddenly. "Everyone just... gravitates to you."
I laughed, setting down my glass and moving closer to him.
"No matter how likeable I am, I only like you." I stood on my tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "Only ever you."
The tension in his shoulders eased at my words and the simple affection. He caught me before I could step back, his hands settling on my waist.
"I still owe you a proper wedding," he murmured against my lips. "Something grand enough that the entire world knows we belong to each other."
I pulled back with a knowing smile. "A wedding, or a public claiming ceremony?"
His lips twitched. "Can't it be both?"
"My practical romantic," I said fondly, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Fine. Plan your grand territorial display. But I get veto power over anything too outrageous."
"Define outrageous."
"Sky-writing 'Property of Sebastian Vane' would qualify."
"What about 'Happily Married to Sebastian Vane'?"
"Still no."
"You're no fun," he complained, but his eyes were warm with amusement.
"I married you, didn't I? I think that proves I'm plenty fun."
"Valid point," he conceded, lifting me onto the counter so we were eye level.
He kissed me then, slow and deep and full of emotion. When we broke apart, he said firmly.
"No more pink balloons in your office,"
"Agreed. They really weren't my color anyway."