Chapter 3

"Shut up!" Beatrice gasped, her voice rising several octaves. "Are you serious?! You went to Sebastian Blackwood's VIP suite? As in the Sebastian Blackwood?!"

I nearly lunged at her, my pulse spiking at her volume. "Keep your voice down!" I hissed, swiping at her mouth, but she dodged with a dancer's grace.

"How am I supposed to stay calm when my best friend spent the night in Sebastian Blackwood's hotel room and waited hours to tell me?!" she whisper-yelled, eyes wide with scandalized delight.

Beatrice worked as a waitress at Carter Resorts, the luxurious hotel where Donovan’s engagement party had been held. The place was owned by Patrick Carter, Delta of the Silver Crescent pack—Sebastian’s pack.

Of course Sebastian had been there. His daughter, Victoria, was the bride-to-be. And of course he had a private suite.

I exhaled sharply.

"It all happened so fast, and I was... not entirely sober," I admitted, wrapping my arms around myself. "I barely remembered it until later, when—other things happened."

Beatrice’s playful expression darkened. "What other things?"

I swallowed hard. Then, in a rush, I told her everything—how Donovan had cornered me, how he’d offered to pay off my father’s debt... in exchange for becoming his mistress.

By the time I finished, Beatrice’s lips were pressed into a thin, furious line.

"That bastard," she spat. "He rejects you, humiliates you, and now he thinks he can buy you like some cheap fling? The audacity."

"I don’t know what to do," I whispered. "Five million dollars... there’s no way I can get that kind of money."

Silence stretched between us, thick with desperation. Then, slowly, a wicked grin curled Beatrice’s lips.

I knew that look. And it terrified me.

"You said Sebastian gave you his shirt?" she asked, eyes gleaming.

I nodded, wary.

She grabbed my wrist, triumphant. "Lillian, it’s obvious. Sebastian is into you. Why else would he give you his clothes? He wanted his scent on you. And trust me—he’s notoriously particular. In all my time working there, you’re the first woman he’s ever offered anything to."

I gaped at her. She’d lost her mind.

"Sebastian isn’t into me," I said flatly. "He gave me his shirt because mine was ruined. That’s it."

"Then why bother?" she countered, crossing her arms. "He’s Sebastian Blackwood. He doesn’t lift a finger for anyone unless he wants to. And don’t even get me started on that kiss. You were this close to sleeping with him—and we both know you were saving yourself for marriage. Something happened between you two."

I looked away, my cheeks burning.

"Or maybe I just wanted to hurt Donovan," I muttered. "And maybe I had too much champagne."

"Drunk actions are sober thoughts," she said dismissively. Then, with a sly smirk, she leaned in. "You could use this. Do you still have that lingerie you bought for your wedding night? Go see Sebastian. Make him an offer he can’t refuse."

The idea was reckless. Dangerous. But as the hours passed, her words looped in my mind, refusing to fade.

By morning, my decision was made.

I pulled the red lace from my closet—the set I’d only tried on once, the one meant for Donovan. My chest ached at the memory, but I shoved it down. No more tears.

I slipped into the lingerie, then covered it with a long trench coat. I left my hair loose, applied just enough makeup to highlight my features.

My mother had barely spoken to me since I told her Donovan wouldn’t help. The disappointment in her eyes haunted me. But maybe—maybe—this would fix everything.

Sebastian’s office wasn’t hard to find. The Blackwood Corporation was legendary.

The receptionist barely glanced up as I approached.

"Good morning," I said, forcing politeness. "I’m here to see Sebastian Blackwood."

She looked up, unimpressed. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No, but—"

"Let me stop you right there," she cut in, tone dripping with boredom. "Mr. Blackwood is extremely busy. He doesn’t have time for fan girls."

My fingers curled into fists.

"And what gives you the right to turn away those who come to see me?"

A deep, familiar voice rumbled behind me.

I turned—and there he was.

Sebastian Blackwood.

His golden eyes locked onto mine, and my breath caught.