Still, I can’t understand why he hasn’t broken free from all that control. I ask Anne directly.
“Seb’s an only child, and from what I remember, he’s always pushed himself to the limit, school, piano, everything, to meet his parents’ impossibly high expectations. Especially his mother, Isabel… Honestly, I’m amazed he hasn’t cracked under the pressure. I think moving to Paris was, at least in part, a way to put distance between them, and maybe Maddie too.”
At the mere mention of Maddie, I flinch. Anne doesn’t notice; she’s still lost in her thoughts.
I’m not ready to talk about the breakup. Not even with Maddie’s best friend. But deep down, I know I made the right choice.
If there had been any doubt left in my heart, tonight erased it.
What I feel for Sebastian is undeniable, stronger, deeper, more real than anything I’ve ever felt before.
Before Anne can say another word, I spot Sebastian entering the room with his agent.
His eyes find mine almost instantly, and a shy smile spreads across his lips. There’s a glint of mischief in his gaze as he lifts a hand to wave, drawing the attention of the whole group. As we begin moving toward him, I realize I’m walking faster, unable to hold back the urge to reach him.
The moment I do, the words catch in my throat. Without thinking, I wrap him in a hug, pulling his slender, graceful frame against mine.
He’s tidied up a little, but there’s still a flicker of something unsettled in him. I hold him close, my nose brushing against his hair, breathing in that familiar scent of vanilla and sweat, and it hits me like a spark, rushing hot through my chest.
I pull back just enough to meet his eyes. Damp curls have slipped loose from the half-bun and headband, framing his face in soft, chaotic strands. He looks up at me, breathless, caught between excitement and uncertainty.
“You were… incredible, Seb. Oh God, I don’t even have the words.”
He smiles, still catching his breath, eyes wide with disbelief. “You really liked it that much?”
He says it like he doesn’t quite believe me. Like part of him still doubts he’s worthy of the praise. I want to tell him a hundred different ways just how extraordinary he is, butthe others are already crowding in, eager to share their own reactions.
The group gathers around him, all clearly moved by what they’ve just witnessed. In the midst of the excitement, I don’t notice his agent approaching until she’s right beside me.
She extends a perfectly manicured hand. “May Morris. Mr Arnette’s agent. You must be his guests?”
I shake her hand, though I hesitate. After what Anne told me, it’s hard not to feel a flicker of suspicion. Her long, blood-red nails are nothing like the short, chipped black ones Sebastian usually wears.
Almost involuntarily, my eyes drop to his hands, and for the first time, I notice he’s not wearing any polish.
Then I look at the shirt he’s wearing, immaculately tailored, its cut carefully chosen to hide every tattoo. Nothing visible on his neck, arms, or back. The defiant, expressive version of him is missing, tucked away beneath sleek fabric and a polished image.
And it hits me: this version of Sebastian isn’t entirely real.
It’s been constructed. Curated. Designed to sell, to please.
But it’s not him.
But that wild, creative hairstyle? That’s pure Sebastian. A quiet act of rebellion, and it suits him perfectly.
May is still waiting for my reply, watching me with a faintly irritated expression.
“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Morris. I’m Remi Elliott, Sebastian’s flatmate, and yes…” I gesture to the others, “We’re his guests.”
She offers a sultry smile, her eyes flicking over me in open appraisal. Unlike Anne, I don’t see a loyal protector. I see a snake. And the fact that someone like her is so close to Sebastian makes my skin crawl.
She nods politely to the rest of the group but keeps her gaze fixed on me. Then she gestures toward the side exit, where the other reception guests have begun to file out.
“This way, Mr Elliott. Everyone, please follow me to the upper salon, where light refreshments will be served.”
We fall into step behind her, bumping shoulders like a pack of overexcited teenagers. Somewhere in the shuffle, Sebastian sidles up beside me, his arm brushing mine.
Even that tiny touch sets something off, an immediate rush of adrenaline that shoots down my arm and spreads like molten lava through the rest of me.
