Chapter 46 The Morning After Part Two
Harper woke to sunlight streaming through unfamiliar windows and Sebastian's side of the bed empty.
She sat up quickly, the events of yesterday flooding back. James Hartwell's betrayal. The contract clause. The choice to trust Sebastian despite everything.
Where was he?
Harper found a note on his pillow in Sebastian's precise handwriting: "Didn't want to wake you. Making breakfast. Come down when you're ready."
She padded downstairs in yesterday's clothes to find Sebastian in the kitchen wearing pajama pants and an old t-shirt, his hair uncombed, looking more human than CEO. He was burning pancakes.
"You're burning them," Harper said from the doorway.
Sebastian jumped, spatula clattering to the counter. "I didn't hear you come down. I was trying to surprise you with breakfast, but apparently I can't cook pancakes either."
"You made eggs once. They were terrible."
"I remember. You ate them anyway and pretended they were good." Sebastian turned off the stove, surveying the blackened pancakes with dismay. "I'm useless at this. I should have just ordered from that place you like."
Harper crossed to him and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. "The burnt pancakes are perfect."
"They're objectively terrible."
"But you made them for me. That's what matters." Harper rested her cheek against his back. "Sebastian, about last night. About the contract and James and everything."
"We don't have to talk about it right now."
"Yes, we do. Because I need you to understand something." Harper turned him around to face her. "I believe you removed that clause. The evidence is clear. But I also need you to understand why I doubted you."
"Because everyone else betrayed you."
"Because trusting people has always led to pain. My parents died. My aunt died. David left. And then your entire family spent months trying to destroy us." Harper's voice shook. "You're asking me to trust you completely when my entire life experience says that's dangerous."
Sebastian pulled her close. "I know. And I'm sorry that the world taught you not to trust. But Harper, I'm not going anywhere. Even when you doubt me. Even when James sends manipulative texts designed to break us apart. I'm staying."
"What if I keep doubting you? What if every time something goes wrong, I assume the worst?"
"Then we work on it. Together. Maybe with actual therapy instead of just talking about it." Sebastian pulled back to look at her. "Harper, I'm not asking you to be perfect. I'm asking you to keep choosing me even when it's hard. The same way I keep choosing you."
Harper felt tears threaten. "I'm trying. I'm really trying."
"I know. And that's enough." Sebastian kissed her forehead. "Now, should I attempt more pancakes or admit defeat and order takeout?"
"Takeout. Definitely takeout."
They ate breakfast on the couch, Harper wearing one of Sebastian's t-shirts, both of them trying to pretend the world outside didn't exist. But reality kept intruding in the form of phone calls and text messages.
Claire called three times before Sebastian finally answered.
"Are you alive?" Claire demanded. "I've been trying to reach you for hours."
"We're fine. Just dealing with some things."
"Some things? Sebastian, Detective Morrison called me looking for you. He has updates about James Hartwell." Claire paused. "Are you and Harper okay? Really okay?"
Sebastian looked at Harper, who nodded. "We're working on it."
"Good. Because you two are insufferably dramatic when you're fighting." Claire's voice softened. "I'm glad you're okay. Call Morrison back. It's important."
After hanging up, Sebastian called the detective. Harper listened to the one-sided conversation, watching Sebastian's expression shift from neutral to shocked.
"When?" Sebastian asked. "Are you certain?"
More listening.
"No, we'll come in. Give us an hour."
He hung up and turned to Harper with an expression she couldn't read.
"What happened?" Harper asked.
"James Hartwell is dead. His plane crashed in the Caribbean early this morning. No survivors."
Harper felt the world tilt. "Dead?"
"Morrison says it appears to be mechanical failure, but they're investigating. The plane went down over open water. They're still recovering the wreckage." Sebastian sat beside her. "He's gone, Harper. Really gone."
Harper didn't know how to feel. Relief that the threat was over? Guilt for feeling relieved about someone's death? Anger that James would never face justice for what he'd done?
"Is it really over then?" she asked quietly.
"Morrison thinks so. With James dead and everyone else in custody, there's no one left to coordinate attacks." Sebastian took her hand. "We're safe now. Actually safe."
But Harper couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. James had been too careful, too calculating. Would he really have boarded a plane with mechanical issues? Or was this something else?
At the police station, Detective Morrison confirmed the details. The plane had experienced catastrophic engine failure twenty minutes after takeoff. Crashed into the ocean. The wreckage suggested mechanical sabotage, but they couldn't be certain without recovering more of the aircraft.
"Sabotage?" Harper asked. "You think someone killed him?"
"It's one possibility. James made enemies beyond you and Sebastian. Richard Hyland, for instance, is facing additional charges because of information we've gathered. He might have wanted James silenced before he could testify."
Sebastian's expression was dark. "So my uncle possibly murdered his business partner to protect himself."
"We're investigating that angle. But for your purposes, the immediate threat is over. James can't hurt you from the grave, and Richard won't be getting out of jail to finish what they started."
They left the station in a daze. The nightmare was over. After months of threats and attacks and constant fear, it was actually over.
"What do we do now?" Harper asked in the car.
"We live. Isn't that what we kept saying?" Sebastian started driving but not toward the penthouse. "But first, there's something I need to do."
He drove them to the Adriatic. The building looked different in afternoon light, less threatening than it had during the storm. Workers were already there, cleaning up damage and repairing the broken window.
"Why are we here?" Harper asked.
Sebastian led her inside to the ballroom. The space was nearly complete, the restored chandeliers glittering overhead, the wooden floor gleaming.
"This is where your aunt died," Sebastian said quietly. "Hanging curtains because she loved this place more than anything."
"I know. I was here when it happened. I was the one who found her."
Sebastian turned to face her. "And you've been carrying that trauma for eight months while also trying to save this building and survive my family's attacks and navigate a marriage that started as a business transaction." His voice was rough. "Harper, you're the strongest person I've ever met. And I don't tell you that enough."
Harper felt tears threaten. "I'm not strong. I'm terrified most of the time."
"Strength isn't the absence of fear. It's doing what needs to be done despite the fear." Sebastian took both her hands. "You saved this building. You saved us. You kept showing up even when everything told you to run."
"So did you."
"Then we're both stronger together than we are apart." Sebastian pulled something from his pocket. A small velvet box. "Which is why I'm asking you this."
Harper's breath caught. "Sebastian, what are you doing?"
"Something I should have done months ago." He opened the box to reveal a ring. Not the platinum band from their contract wedding, but something new. A sapphire surrounded by diamonds, vintage and beautiful. "This was my grandmother's ring. The only Colton family heirloom that isn't tainted by my father's legacy."
"Sebastian."
"Let me finish. Harper, our marriage started as a business arrangement. But it became real somewhere along the way. Real enough that I can't imagine my life without you in it. Real enough that I want to choose you every day, not because a contract says I have to, but because you're the person I want to build a life with."
Tears were streaming down Harper's face now.
"So I'm asking you to marry me. Again. For real this time. No contracts, no obligations, no exit strategies. Just us, choosing each other, building something that lasts." Sebastian's voice shook. "Will you marry me, Harper? Really marry me?"
Harper looked at the ring, at Sebastian's vulnerable expression, at the ballroom where her aunt had died loving something beautiful.
She thought about the past eight months. The contract, the threats, the betrayals, the moments of unexpected tenderness that had somehow added up to love.
She thought about who she'd been when she inherited the Adriatic. Drowning in debt, desperate, alone. And who she was now. Stronger, braver, loved.
"Yes," Harper whispered. "Yes, I'll marry you. Really marry you."
Sebastian slipped the ring onto her finger, and it fit perfectly. Then he kissed her in the ballroom where it had all begun, surrounded by chandeliers and possibility.
When they finally broke apart, Harper smiled through her tears.
"We should probably tell people," she said.
"Eventually. But first, I want to enjoy this moment. Just us. No crisis, no threats, no audience."
They stood in the empty ballroom holding each other, and for the first time in months, Harper felt peace.
The nightmare was over.
Their real life was just beginning.
And it was going to be beautiful.