Chapter 11 Chapter 11
Lily
Morning sunlight spills over the city skyline as I sit out on the terrace, the soft breeze brushing against my skin. I’m perched at a small marble table near the terrace pool, its surface still and glassy in the early light. The world below looks far away, almost peaceful from this height.
Jane has prepared a delicate fruit salad for me—slices of ripe mango, kiwi, strawberries, and papaya drizzled with honey and topped with a sprinkle of chia seeds. A warm cup of tea steams gently beside the bowl, its subtle aroma grounding me in the moment.
I try to enjoy the quiet, but my thoughts keep drifting back to last night—how Sebastian left in such a hurry after that mysterious call. The silence he left behind still lingers in the air.
Just then, I hear the soft ding of the elevator. I glance toward the penthouse entrance as the doors slide open.
Sebastian steps in.
He looks exhausted. There are deep shadows under his eyes, and his black shirt is wrinkled from the long night. His coat hangs loosely from one hand, and there’s a faint smear of blood on his knuckles.
He scans the space until his eyes land on me outside, and then walks toward me with slow, heavy steps.
“Morning,” I murmur, my voice quiet but firm.
“Good morning, angel,” he replies, his tone husky with fatigue.
My gaze lowers to his hand again—the blood stark against his pale skin.
He follows my stare, then casually lifts his hand. “It’s not my blood,” he says, his voice even.
My chest tightens.
It’s the calmness in his voice that unsettles me most. This man... there’s so much I don’t know about him. So much he doesn't say.
Still, he walks closer, standing beside the table now, his presence tall and unreadable.
“I’ll drive you to campus,” he offers, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I look away, focusing on the city again.
“It’s okay. You should rest. I can go by myself,” I reply gently, not wanting to sound too distant, but keeping my walls up.
“I came home just to drop you off,” he says without pause, “Then I’ll head to work again.”
I glance at him in surprise. “You’re not going to sleep?”
He shrugs like it doesn’t matter. “Business doesn’t wait.”
There’s a beat of silence before I nod. “Okay.”
I’m already dressed—a black coat dress with gold buttons cinched at the waist, and a clean pair of white shoes. My hair falls loosely over my shoulders, catching the morning light. I finish the last bite of fruit, sip my tea, then rise to my feet.
We head down together in the elevator. The silence between us isn’t heavy—it’s complicated. Like two people standing on opposite sides of a closed door.
He opens the door of his sleek black Bentley for me, and I slide in without a word. He gets behind the wheel, his hands steady even though he hasn’t slept.
I glance at him as he starts the car, the city slowly coming alive around us.
I don’t ask where he was last night.
Because no matter how much he wants to be my husband...
…I’m not ready to be his wife.
Class ends earlier than expected, the professor dismissing us twenty minutes ahead of schedule. The sun is still high in the sky as Bella offers to give me a ride home. We chat casually on the drive back, her energy light and effortless, filling the car with laughter and harmless gossip. But beneath it, I can sense she's still studying me—curious about my life now, about Sebastian.
When we finally pull up in front of the towering building, the familiar sight of the penthouse feels heavier than usual. Bella gives me a soft smile as I unbuckle.
“Text me if you get bored being a rich wife,” she teases.
I give a small laugh and nod, stepping out and thanking her.
As soon as I enter the penthouse, the atmosphere shifts.
Sebastian is already home.
He stands near the window, a tumbler in his hand, half-filled with dark amber liquid. The afternoon light spills across his shirt, and when he turns to look at me, there’s something unreadable in his expression.
“You’re home early,” he remarks, setting the glass on the counter and walking toward me.
“Yeah, class ended early,” I say casually, slipping off my shoes. “Bella offered to drop me off.”
His steps slow just slightly.
“You could’ve called,” he says, his voice calm but with a quiet edge.
I glance at him, unsure if he's upset or just tired. “I didn’t want to disturb you. I figured you’d still be working.”
He closes the distance between us until he’s just a breath away. His hand lifts slowly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His gaze is locked on mine—intense, unreadable.
“You should still let me know,” he murmurs, his voice low and possessive.
I feel his hand trail down my side, fingers skimming the fabric of my coat dress. A flicker of something stirs between us—familiar, charged, and a little dangerous.
“I don’t like not knowing where you are,” he adds and slightly move my panties aside.
My heart beats faster, but I don’t move away.
I meet his gaze, unsure whether to challenge it or accept it.
“…You’re home now,” he finishes softly.
His fingers brush against my pussy entrance before gently pressing forward, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His movements grow quicker, each motion sending a wave of heat through me.
“Hmm...”
He fingers me so good that I reach an orgasm so fast and I collapse in his arms. I almost cried. He hugs me and I can feel his erection pressing down my stomach. I am breathing heavily. He was so rough with his finger that I feel a discomfort down there.
“Shhh, it’s alright,” he murmurs, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead to soothe me.
“Angel…” His voice is low and smooth.
“Yes?” I whisper, meeting his gaze.
He studies me for a moment, then asks, “Have you ever used anything... extra? Like a sex toy?”
I feel a flutter in my chest. “N-no,” I admit, swallowing hard.
A small, unreadable smile plays on his lips. “Would you trust me to introduce you to it?”