chapter 78
Sebastian's POV:
I watched as Rose and Elena made their way toward the outside.
Nicholas stood frozen beside me, his entire body coiled with the effort of not following them. I could practically feel the words burning in his throat.
The door closed with a soft click, and the sound seemed to release something in him. He took a half-step forward before catching himself, hands clenching at his sides.
I clapped a hand on his shoulder, squeezing just hard enough to ground him.
"Wasn't the plan to take things slow? Let her settle into the role first?"
"I know." His voice came out rough, frustrated. "I just... when I saw her standing there, I couldn't—" He broke off, jaw working.
"I get it," I said, steering him back toward the study before he could do something stupid like chase after them.
"But let me remind you of our arrangement. When I agreed to hire Rose as Elena's pregnancy therapist, it was purely as a favor to you." I paused, pouring us both drinks. "The problem is, Elena's clearly taken with her. Did you see how relaxed she looked?"
I handed him the glass, my tone shifting to something more measured. "You fuck this up, and we're both dealing with the fallout. And if it comes down to choosing sides—Rose walking away or keeping you happy—well, I might not be in your corner on this one."
The implications hung heavy between us. Nicholas sank into the leather chair, accepting the scotch.
"She won't quit," Nicholas said, but it sounded more like a prayer than certainty. "She's too professional for that."
"Let's hope you're right." I settled behind my desk, studying him over the rim of my glass.
Nicholas stared at the amber liquid for a moment before knocking back the entire glass in one go.
"She hates me." His voice carried none of its usual confidence, stripped down to something hollow and wondering. "Did you see how she looked at me? Like I was something she'd scrape off her shoe."
I settled back in my chair. "What exactly did you think would happen? That she'd fall into your arms after five years of radio silence? The damage was done five years ago when you chose Sophia over her. "
Nicholas fell silent, his fingers tightening around the glass until I thought it might shatter. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough.
"She spent five years in Mexico. Five years raising our daughter alone in a foreign country." He took another sip, slower this time. "It must have been hell. A single mother, no support system, working God knows how many jobs just to survive..."
"Mexico's not exactly cheap," I pointed out, swirling the scotch in my glass. "And when she came back, she was staying at five-star hotels with the kid. Does that sound like someone who's been scraping by?"
Nicholas's expression darkened. "That's not the point. If she'd been with me, she wouldn't have had to work herself to the bone."
"She's lost weight," he said quietly. "She used to have these soft curves, and now she's all sharp angles. "
"Maybe you shouldn't assume you're that important to her life trajectory," I interrupted, unable to resist needling him. "Women these days are all about being fit. It's trendy."
"Would it fucking kill you not to be an asshole for five minutes?" Nicholas snapped, slamming his glass down on the side table.
I shrugged, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. "Just that perhaps your vision of Rose—struggling single mother desperately in need of saving—doesn't match the reality of the competent professional who just walked out of here."
Nicholas fell silent, staring into his glass.
I watched him wrestle with this new perspective, remembering my own painful education on the subject.
Watching Elena build her perfume business from nothing, seeing her eyes light up when discussing formulations and clients—it had taught me more about respect than any business deal ever could. Nicholas would have to learn his own lessons.
I sighed, setting down my drink. "So what are you going to do? Your mother never approved of Rose, if I remember correctly."
Something dark shifted in Nicholas's eyes. "My mother's approval isn't required," he said quietly, but there was steel beneath the soft tone.
"I'm the one who wanted to be with Rose. She wasn't chasing after me or my family's money. " His fingers tightened on the glass. "Whatever obstacles my mother or anyone else wants to throw up, I'll handle them."
I studied him for a moment, recognizing the determination that had made him a formidable ally in business. "If you need anything, just say the word."
He nodded, draining the last of his scotch before standing.
"I'll figure it out." The confidence in his voice didn't quite match the uncertainty in his eyes, but that was his battle to fight.
After seeing him out, I made my way upstairs to our bedroom. I found Elena sitting on the window seat, one hand resting on her swollen belly, her gaze unfocused as she stared out at the afternoon light.
She didn't turn when I entered, too lost in whatever thoughts were occupying her mind.
I grabbed the small velvet stool from her vanity—the one she teased me about being too low for my frame—and settled it beside her, lowering myself until I was level with her stomach.
"May I?" I asked softly, not wanting to startle her from her reverie.
She blinked, coming back to the present, and a small smile touched her lips. "Since when do you ask permission?"
"Since always," I lied, making her laugh softly.
She took my hand and placed it where hers had been resting. Almost immediately, I felt movement beneath my palm—subtle shifts and kicks that still amazed me every time.
"She's active today," Elena murmured, her voice warm.
"So you're certain it's a girl now?" I asked, pressing my palm more firmly against the movement, fascinated by the strength behind such tiny limbs.