Chapter 177
Iris's POV
I froze mid-step on the sidewalk, confronted by the familiar figure who had deliberately positioned himself in my path. My heart skipped involuntarily when I fully registered Sebastien standing there, his imposing frame blocking the way like he owned the entire street. God, I hated that my body still reacted to him.
"We need to talk about the collaboration you canceled," he said, his tone businesslike but with an underlying edge. "Over lunch."
The mention of the meeting immediately set my teeth on edge. Of course he wouldn't let that go—I'd publicly rejected his forced business proposition in front of both our executive teams.
I noticed several employees returning from their lunch breaks, slowing their pace and casting curious glances our way. Some were whispering behind their hands, not even trying to be subtle. Great, more office gossip in the making.
"There's nothing to discuss," I replied coldly. "The decision is final. I won't be manipulated into a business arrangement just because you found some obscure clause in our contract."
His silver-gray eyes locked onto mine, and for a split second, I caught something that looked almost like vulnerability before it was replaced with his usual mask of cool indifference.
"This isn't just business, Iris, and you know it," he said, his voice low enough that the onlookers couldn't hear. "The collaboration would benefit both companies. Your personal feelings shouldn't interfere with that."
"My personal feelings?" I nearly choked on the words. "You're the one sending flowers and forcing business meetings as excuses to see me. Don't pretend this is about corporate interests."
"No, it's never 'just' anything with you." I turned away, heading back toward the office entrance. My appetite had completely vanished. "Thanks for ruining my lunch plans," I muttered under my breath.
As I walked away, I could feel his gaze boring into my back. Part of me expected him to follow, to grab my arm or call out—something dramatic and possessive like he used to. But he didn't. That almost bothered me more, and I hated myself for noticing.
When I got back to my office, I stopped dead in the doorway. My desk, usually cluttered with fabric samples and sketches, was now covered with an impressive spread of food containers. The delicious aroma of rosemary chicken and fresh bread filled the room.
As if on cue, my phone rang. Jack Lowell's name flashed across the screen.
"Hello?" I answered, still staring at the unexpected feast.
"You've eaten already?" Jack's warm voice came through the speaker, concern evident in his tone.
I walked closer to my desk, lifting the lid on one of the containers to reveal perfectly roasted vegetables. "This is all from you?"
"Who else?" he chuckled. "Can't have you working yourself to exhaustion on an empty stomach. That little wolf pup needs nutrition."
My hand instinctively moved to my slightly rounded belly, a wave of warmth washing over me at his thoughtfulness. It still felt strange having someone genuinely concerned about my wellbeing—no ulterior motives, no strings attached.
"Thank you," I said softly, my throat unexpectedly tight. "This is... really kind of you."
"It's nothing," Jack brushed it off, but I could hear the smile in his voice. "Just make sure you eat properly. I know how you get when you're focused on a project."
After we hung up, I sat down and sampled the food, realizing how hungry I actually was. Every dish was something I loved—he must have asked the chef to prepare all my favorites. The contrast between this genuine care and Sebastien's manipulative gestures wasn't lost on me. The flowers, the lunch invitation today—those weren't about my needs; they were about what he wanted.
My reflections were interrupted when my phone lit up with a video call request from Rachel. I wiped my hands and answered.
Rachel's face appeared, her eyes wide. "Oh thank god, you're eating! I was freaking out."
"What's wrong?" I asked, confused by her panic.
She grimaced, adjusting her phone. "You haven't seen the group chats, have you?"
"No, I've been working all morning. What's happening now?" I felt a familiar dread settling in my stomach.
"Your little standoff with Sebastien at the office entrance is all over the community forums," Rachel explained. "Someone snapped photos."
I groaned, opening the chat in a small window. Sure enough, there were at least three different angles of Sebastien and me standing outside the building, his towering frame almost predatory in its stance, my body language clearly defensive.
"And people are still talking about that insane flood of flowers he sent! They said it took several delivery guys just to bring them all in at once," Rachel continued, scrolling through her phone. "And get this—according to 'reliable sources,' Lucas Morgan is also pursuing you."
I rolled my eyes, scrolling through the comments. "Lucas and Sebastien... two sides of the same coin," I muttered, more to myself than to Rachel.
"You don't actually like either of them, right?" Rachel's question came after a hesitant pause.
I let out a short, humorless laugh. "I'm not a fool, Rachel. I don't need to stick my hand back in the fire to remember it burns."
Relief washed over her face. "Good, because I swear, if Sebastien thinks he can just waltz back after everything—"
"He can't," I cut her off firmly. "And he won't."
After Rachel hung up to sign some contracts, I returned to my meal, though my appetite had diminished again. The food was excellent, but the knowledge that my personal life was once again werewolf community fodder left a bitter taste in my mouth.
That day's confrontation was only the beginning. For the next five days, the bizarre romantic comedy continued—except I wasn't laughing. Lucas appeared religiously at the front entrance each morning, clutching increasingly elaborate bouquets. I took to using the side exit. Sebastien, not to be outdone, had meals delivered daily, which I instructed reception to refuse.
From the gossip I overheard in the hallways, the whole office was placing bets on which suitor I'd eventually choose.
On the fifth day, I was heading to the break room when voices from inside made me pause near the doorway.
"Day five and the boss still isn't giving either of them the time of day," one voice said, sounding impressed. "Lucas is downstairs right now with another bouquet."
"I know! Front desk just called it in, and she straight-up said not to bother her with these updates anymore."
"She's such a badass. The company's been doing so much better with her in charge."
I felt a small smile tugging at my lips, but it vanished when Jenny's stern voice cut through the chatter.
"I've made it very clear that personal gossip about Ms. Stone is inappropriate during work hours," she said coldly. "Apparently, some of you need a reminder."
I turned and headed back to my office, thinking: This company isn't the place for my personal drama. I need to maintain a professional environment.
That afternoon, those employees were called to HR. I didn't intervene—boundaries needed to be respected.
Sitting by my window later, flipping through a catalog of baby items, I occasionally found my thoughts drifting to Sebastien's disappointed face when I'd turned him down.
Something in his eyes had seemed genuinely hurt.