Chapter 54
Lirael
The elevator to Sky Tower's 88th floor was all chrome and soft lighting, ascending so smoothly I barely felt it. When the doors opened, I stepped into wealth incarnate—marble floors, crystal chandeliers, a maître d' who could probably spot a fake reservation from across the room.
"Good afternoon. Reservation?"
"Meeting someone. Gray party."
His expression warmed. "Ah yes, Mr. Gray is already seated. This way."
He led me past tables full of Ark City's elite—politicians, CEOs, old money. The restaurant lived up to its reputation: massive windows offered breathtaking city views, the whole room slowly rotating for a complete panorama.
Damian waited at a window table, light grey suit making his dark hair look almost black. He stood when he saw me, old-world courtesy.
"You made it," he said, smile genuine. "Excellent disguise—I almost didn't recognize you."
I slid into the seat across from him, eyes catching on the menu header: Couple's Prix Fixe Menu.
I raised an eyebrow. "You booked the couple's booth?"
Slight flush colored his cheeks. "Window seats are all couple designations. Best view."
"And?"
"And..." He poured water carefully. "I thought we could both use an hour pretending to be normal. Just... lunch."
Despite everything, something softened in my chest. In three years at Eden Base, Damian had been one of few bright spots—smuggling books, helping me access networks, treating me like a person instead of a specimen.
"That sounds nice," I said quietly. "Though I'm guessing the 'important intel' won't make for romantic conversation."
"No," he agreed, expression turning serious. "But we can enjoy the food first."
He was about to continue when his gaze shifted past me. Color drained from his face.
"Shit," he muttered. "What the hell is he doing here?"
I turned, and my heart stopped.
Sebastianstood at the entrance, one hand wrapped in fresh bandages, the other resting possessively on a young woman's shoulder. Blue dress, long hair partially obscuring her face, medical mask—but I recognized her body language, the tremor in her hands.
Celeste.
He'd brought Celeste to Sky Tower.
Fuck. Fuck.
My mind raced. This wasn't coincidence—Sebastian didn't do coincidence. He'd known about Damian's reservation, which meant he'd been monitoring communications. And he'd deliberately brought my double here, to this restaurant, at this exact time.
Message. Trap. Probably both.
Sebastian's golden eyes swept the restaurant with predatory precision. I saw the exact moment they landed on our table. His lips curved into a smile that promised violence.
He guided Celeste through the dining room, moving with that fluid grace despite his injuries. Every eye followed him—Sebastian Blackwood commanded attention by existing.
"Damian," he said, voice carrying just enough warmth to sound friendly while his eyes promised murder. "What a pleasant surprise."
Damian stood, posture carefully neutral. "Sebastian. Quite the coincidence."
"Isn't it?" Sebastian's gaze shifted to me, and my pulse spiked despite the disguise. His eyes lingered, studying me with that intensity suggesting he could see straight through the Holo-Skin.
"And who is this?" Head tilted slightly.
"A friend," Damian said smoothly. "Elena. Elena, this is Sebastian Blackwood."
I kept my eyes down, voice higher and softer than natural. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Blackwood."
"The pleasure is mine, Miss Elena." But his eyes had already dismissed me as unimportant. Attention shifted back to Damian. "I didn't know you frequented romantic restaurants. How... unexpected."
Edge beneath the pleasant tone.
"It's just lunch," Damian replied evenly.
"Just lunch." Sebastian pulled Celeste closer. "Well then, let me introduce my companion. This is my... pet."
He emphasized it deliberately. Celeste flinched.
Damian's jaw tightened. "Sebastian, in public—"
"What?" Sebastian's smile sharpened. "She likes being called my pet. Don't you, sweetheart?"
Celeste nodded stiffly, not meeting anyone's eyes.
I gripped my water glass tighter, nails digging into palms. Watching him treat her the way he'd treated me—casual cruelty disguised as affection—made my blood boil. But I couldn't react. Couldn't give myself away.
Fuck him. Fuck this whole situation.
"How long have you known each other?" Sebastian asked Damian conversationally, despite the tension crackling.
"A few months," I answered before Damian could, keeping my voice steady.
"Business contacts." Sebastian's eyes returned to me, staying longer this time. "Already at couple's restaurants? You work fast, Damian."
"We're friends," Damian said firmly. "Nothing more."
"Friends don't usually book the most romantic table in Ark City." Sebastian's voice had gone cold. "But perhaps your taste has... evolved."
The implication hung—that Damian, centuries without interest in women, had suddenly developed feelings for a human.
Before Damian could respond, a server approached, clearly uncomfortable.
"Mr. Blackwood, I apologize, but we're fully booked. Your table won't be ready—"
"That won't be necessary." Sebastian looked at Damian with that predatory smile. "Why don't we share? We're all friends here."
"That's not—" Damian began.
But Sebastian had already pulled out the chair next to me, settling Celeste before taking the seat across from Damian. The server hesitated, wanting to object but not daring to contradict Sebastian.
"We already ordered," Damian said tightly.
"Then I'll have whatever you're having." Sebastian leaned back, radiating dominance despite his injuries. "My treat. Gesture of friendship."
The arrangement put me diagonally from Celeste, close enough to see her tension, her trembling hands. Close enough to recognize the fear when she glanced at Sebastian, checking his mood.
I'd sat in that exact position so many goddamn times.
A server appeared with menus. Sebastian waved him away. "Chef's special. And champagne—we're celebrating."
"Celebrating what?" Damian asked carefully.
"Finding something I'd lost." Sebastian's hand moved to Celeste's shoulder, possessive and gentle. "Trying few days, but everything's back where it belongs."
His words were meant for me. Message: he believed he'd won, had his "pet" safely under control.
Except he didn't. He had a substitute, and no fucking idea.
Should have felt satisfying. Instead I felt sick watching Celeste try to disappear under his touch.
"Your companion seems uncomfortable," I said quietly to Sebastian. Risky, drawing his attention, but I couldn't stay silent while he tormented her.
His eyes snapped to me. Pupils contracted—flash of gold, gone so fast I might've imagined it.
"Does she?" He turned to Celeste, voice dropping to almost tender. "Are you uncomfortable, little one?"
Celeste shook her head. Too fast.
"You see?" His gaze returned to me, calculating now. "Perfectly fine. Though I appreciate your concern, Miss Elena. Refreshing to meet someone so... observant."
The way he said "observant" made my skin crawl. Like he could see through the disguise, knew exactly who I was, was enjoying the game.
"Perhaps we should remove the mask," he continued, still looking at me while addressing Celeste. "Stuffy in here. I'd like my companion comfortable."
Celeste's hand moved to her mask, trembling.
"Sebastian," Damian warned.
"What? Simply ensuring my pet's comfort." Eyes never left me, watching for reaction.
This was it. If Celeste removed the mask, everyone would see the face I'd given her—exact replica of my features. Sebastian would know I was here, and the game would end.
My hand tightened on the water glass, ready to throw it, create a distraction. But I kept my face neutral, curious, like I had no idea what was happening.
Celeste's fingers found the mask's edge. She looked at Sebastian, silently pleading.
"Go ahead, sweetheart. Let everyone see how beautiful you are."
She pulled it down slowly. I watched Damian's eyes widen as he saw her face—my face. Silver-grey eyes, beauty mark, everything.
My grip faltered. The glass slipped, water splashing across the white tablecloth.
I coughed, liquid going down wrong, automatic response overriding control. Water burned in my throat, violent coughing seizing my chest.
Shit. Shit shit shit.
"Elena!" Damian was up immediately, pressing a napkin into my hands.
Through watering eyes, I saw Sebastian watching with that knowing smile, head tilted like he'd just confirmed a suspicion.
"Alright, Miss Elena?" he asked, false concern dripping. "Should we call a doctor?"