Chapter 25 Chapter 25
Chapter 25 Chapter 25
Lily’s pov
I hadn’t slept a minute.
The mansion was stirring around me — the soft footsteps of staff, the clatter of utensils from the kitchen, and the low hum of early morning voices — but inside, everything felt still.
My chest was tight, my thoughts heavy, and my hands shook slightly as I folded laundry in the quiet hallway.
Before I could gather myself, a voice cut through the calm.
“Lily.”
I looked up to see Emma standing there, her face tense, a subtle hardness behind her usual warmth. She held a cup of coffee, but the gesture felt less like kindness and more like a shield for the conversation she was about to have.
“We need to talk,” she said firmly.
My stomach twisted.
“About…?”
Emma sighed and walked closer.
“About the photos.”
I froze.
I didn’t want to think about them.
I didn’t want to see them.
My heart thudded painfully against my ribs.
“Emma, I—” I tried to speak, but she cut me off.
“No, Lily. Stop pretending you don’t care. I know you saw them. Everyone saw them.”
Her voice softened, but the firmness never left.
“Sebastian and Victoria… they’re out there enjoying their moment. And I know you — you’ve been trying not to think about it, but I see it in your eyes.”
I lowered my gaze, my fingers tightening around the hem of my uniform.
“It’s not that I… I just… it doesn’t matter.”
Emma shook her head.
“It does matter. Because you care. And hiding it won’t help. I’m not here to scold you, Lily, but you need to face reality. Sebastian isn’t yours. Not like this. And Victoria? She’s not going anywhere.”
I forced a small chuckle.
“Emma, what exactly are you thinking? Why would you think I like Sebastian or that I’m jealous? I don’t even dare to like him. Sebastian and I… we’re not in the same world. I’m a lowly maid. Why would I ever think of liking him?”
Emma narrowed her eyes.
“Are you sure, Lily?”
“Yes. I am,” I lied.
“Alright then… but listen to me.”
Emma placed a hand on my shoulder, her grip firm.
“You’re smart, capable, strong. You survived everything to get here, and you’ll survive this too.
And that Victoria — don’t let her make you feel invisible.”
“I already feel invisible,” I whispered. “I—”
Before I could finish, a small figure approached us.
Matta.
Victoria’s maid.
She held a phone in her hand, her expression sharp, almost predatory.
“Miss Lily,” she said, her voice dripping with fake politeness. “You need to see this.”
I stiffened.
“See what?”
Matta didn’t answer.
She shoved the phone toward me, forcing me to take it.
My hands trembled as the screen lit up.
Images.
Dozens of them.
Sebastian and Victoria, arm in arm, glowing under bright lights at a lavish convention.
Victoria’s hand rested possessively on his arm, her emerald gown clinging perfectly to her body.
Her smile radiated confidence — the kind that comes from knowing she belonged there.
Sebastian looked calm, untouchable, coldly perfect in his tailored suit.
My stomach dropped.
And then it got worse.
They were everywhere — every news site, every gossip blog, every social media feed I shouldn’t be checking but couldn’t stop scrolling.
Sebastian Kingsley and Victoria Whittemore Make Rare Public Appearance
Power Couple Alert: Kingsley and Whittemore at Lagos’ Most Exclusive Convention
Are Wedding Bells in the Air? Sebastian Kingsley Finally Steps Out
And the photos.
God, the photos.
They looked perfect together.
I hated that I couldn’t deny it.
Victoria, glowing in that expensive emerald gown.
Sebastian, looking every inch the billionaire prince.
Standing under chandeliers, surrounded by people who belonged in that world.
People like them.
Not people like me.
I zoomed in on one photo, hating myself for it.
Sebastian’s face was neutral, almost blank, but Victoria…
Victoria looked up at him like she already knew the ending of the story.
And maybe she did.
Maybe I was the only one stupid enough to think — to hope —
Matta leaned closer, whispering,
“This is what you’re up against. Your suffering is only beginning. Sebastian won’t listen to anyone now — only Victoria. She’s his world.
And you…”
She let the word hang like a knife.
“…you are nothing.”
I swallowed hard, my throat burning.
“Matta… please…”
But she was already walking away.
I stood frozen, the phone still in my hand, the images burning themselves into my mind.
I sank against the wall, pressing my palms to my face.
Emma crouched beside me.
“I know it hurts,” she said softly. “I know it feels hopeless. But you’re stronger than you think. Don’t let them decide your value.”
I nodded, but it felt hollow.
How could I feel strong when the world had just reminded me where I stood?
I forced myself up.
I had work to do.
His office to clean.
His files to organize.
His coffee to prepare exactly how he liked it.
Because that’s who I was.
Staff.
A maid.
And I lied.
I pretended I didn’t care.
But deep down, I did — painfully so.
By the time evening arrived, my nerves were shredded.
My uniform was spotless, my hair neatly tied back, but my hands trembled around the tray of coffee and snacks as I walked toward his office.
The hallway felt impossibly long.
I paused at his door, breathing shakily before knocking.
“Come in,” his voice called — calm, commanding, but heavier than usual.
I stepped inside.
Sebastian was behind his desk, papers scattered in front of him.
But the room… the room told a different story.
His suit jacket from the convention hung over the chair, creased like he’d yanked it off in frustration.
It smelled faintly of his cologne sharp, masculine — but underneath, something softer lingered… vanilla.
A scent that didn’t belong in his world of perfection.
A folded newspaper sat by his laptop, the headline shouting about the convention.
The page was crumpled, as if someone had crushed it in their hands.
One pen sat out of place, not aligned like the others — a tiny crack in his rigid order.
Everything whispered the same thing:
Sebastian Kingsley was not himself.
He was fraying.
He was conflicted.
And for the first time… he was human.
I swallowed and stepped closer to set the tray down.
He didn’t respond at first, his gaze fixed on the papers.
But when he finally looked up, our eyes met — and I saw it.
Confusion.
Exhaustion.
Vulnerability.
“Good evening, sir,” I whispered.
He ran a hand over his temple, tension pulling at the corners of his eyes.
“Lily…” he said quietly, hesitantly.
“Yes, sir?”
“Did you”
He stopped, pinched the bridge of his nose, then shook his head.
“Never mind. Continue your work.”
I wanted to walk away.
But something kept me rooted.
The jacket.
The scattered pen.
The crushed newspaper.
Something was wrong.
“Sir… are you alright?” I asked softly.
He looked at me, his eyes wavering for a moment before hardening.
“I… don’t know,” he admitted in a low voice.
Then he cleared his throat.
“You may go.”
I left quietly.
But my mind was a storm.
Not just because of Victoria.
But because I couldn’t stop worrying about him.
Back in my room, I sank onto my bed, pressing my palms to my face.
My heart ached — not only from the impossible feelings I held but because I’d seen the man beneath the perfection.
The cracks.
The confusion.
The quiet, hidden pain.
Sebastian Kingsley was more than the flawless billionaire the world admired.
He was human.
And human things were fragile, complicated…
and dangerously magnetic.