Chapter 72

The morning sun cast golden rays through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Sebastian Blackwood’s penthouse, painting the marble floors in warm hues. Lillian stretched lazily in the oversized bed, her fingers brushing against the cool silk sheets. The scent of sandalwood and something distinctly Sebastian lingered in the air, making her pulse quicken.

She had barely opened her eyes when the bedroom door creaked open. Oliver, Sebastian’s seven-year-old son, peeked inside, his dark curls tousled from sleep. "Lillian?" he whispered, as if afraid to wake her fully.

She smiled, propping herself up on one elbow. "Good morning, sweetheart."

Oliver shuffled closer, clutching a stuffed wolf toy to his chest. "Papa said you’re staying with us now. Forever?"

Lillian’s heart squeezed. The innocence in his voice was almost too much to bear. She reached out, ruffling his hair. "For as long as you’ll have me."

A satisfied grin spread across Oliver’s face before he scampered off, likely to find his father. Lillian exhaled, sinking back into the pillows. Forever. The word echoed in her mind, both thrilling and terrifying.

Downstairs, the penthouse buzzed with activity. The clinking of silverware and the rich aroma of coffee filled the air. Sebastian stood by the grand dining table, dressed in a tailored navy suit, his sharp jawline shadowed with the barest hint of stubble. His gaze flicked to her the moment she descended the stairs, dark eyes simmering with something unreadable.

"Sleep well?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine.

Lillian nodded, suddenly hyper-aware of how underdressed she was in one of his oversized shirts. "Better than I have in months."

Sebastian’s lips curved into a smirk. "Good. You’ll need your energy today."

Before she could ask what he meant, Beatrice burst through the front door, her cheeks flushed. "Lillian! You won’t believe what just happened!"

Lillian blinked. "What?"

Beatrice grabbed her arm, dragging her toward the foyer. "Donovan and Evelyn are here—at the Blackwood Tower! They’re demanding to see Sebastian!"

Lillian’s blood ran cold. Donovan. Her ex-fated mate, the man who had betrayed her without a second thought. And Evelyn, the she-wolf he had chosen over her.

Sebastian’s expression darkened. "Let them wait."

But Lillian shook her head, squaring her shoulders. "No. I’ll handle this."

Sebastian studied her for a long moment before nodding. "Marcus," he called to his Beta, who materialized instantly. "Go with her."

As Lillian strode toward the elevator, her heart pounded, but her steps never faltered. She had spent too long running from her past. It was time to face it—head-on.

The elevator doors slid open, revealing Donovan and Evelyn standing in the opulent lobby, their presence like a stain on the pristine marble. Donovan’s eyes locked onto hers, widening in shock. "Lillian?"

She crossed her arms, tilting her chin up. "You have five minutes. Start talking."

Evelyn sneered, stepping forward. "Or what? You’ll cry to your new mate?"

Lillian’s lips curled into a cold smile. "No. But I will make you regret ever coming here."

The tension in the air crackled, thick enough to choke on.

And then—

The lobby doors burst open.

A figure stood silhouetted against the sunlight, tall and imposing.

Lillian’s breath caught.

Because standing there, with a smirk that promised chaos, was none other than Alpha Harrison.

The man who had tried to take advantage of her when she was vulnerable.

And he wasn’t alone.

Behind him, a dozen armed warriors filed in, their eyes glowing with predatory intent.

Sebastian’s voice cut through the silence like a blade.

"Get behind me."

Lillian didn’t move.

This time, she wasn’t running.

This time—she would fight.

"W-what are you doing here?" Oliver stammered, his eyes widening as he stared up at his father.

Sebastian arched a brow, his piercing gaze locked onto his son. "I was called in for a parent-teacher conference," he explained smoothly. "Imagine my surprise when I saw your mother already here."

Oliver’s gaze flickered to me, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson—mirroring the heat rising in my own face.

"My... mother?" he whispered, suddenly finding the floor far more interesting than either of us.

"Yes," Sebastian murmured, his fingers brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear before trailing down my cheek. A shiver raced down my spine, my skin prickling with goosebumps. "I thought she had work today and wouldn’t be able to make it. Color me surprised when I saw her sitting here."

Oliver lifted his head, his eyes darting between us, confusion and disbelief swirling in their depths. He looked just as lost as I felt. Clearly, he hadn’t expected his father to play along with this charade.

"I... I asked her to come instead," Oliver admitted, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "I didn’t want you to be mad at me."

Sebastian leaned back, his expression unreadable. "And you thought I wouldn’t understand?"

Oliver bit his lower lip, nodding hesitantly. "I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me," he murmured. "I’m sorry, Dad."

Sebastian’s gaze never wavered. "Then tell me exactly what happened. Why did you hit that boy?"

Oliver’s eyes flicked to me again, his face burning even hotter. I could tell he didn’t want to say it aloud. My curiosity spiked—what had pushed him to lash out? But I quickly reminded myself that this wasn’t my business. I wasn’t really his mother.

Come to think of it, I wasn’t even sure who his mother was.

I knew Sebastian’s fated mate had died in childbirth years ago, but was it during Victoria’s birth or Oliver’s? If it was Victoria’s, then Oliver would have had to come from another woman. The truth was, I hadn’t even known Sebastian had a son until I started tutoring him. He’d been kept out of the public eye for so long that I found myself more intrigued by their family dynamics than anything else.

"I can leave if you’d rather speak to your father alone," I offered, starting to rise—but Sebastian’s hand closed around my wrist, holding me in place.

"Whatever you need to say to me, you can say in front of your mother," he said firmly, his eyes never leaving Oliver.

Oliver swallowed hard, twisting his fingers together before finally speaking.

"He was telling me I was motherless and unwanted," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "That not even my own father wanted me. He said I’d never be important to the Blackwood family." His fists clenched. "I was about to walk away, but then he—"

His words cut off, his jaw tightening.

Sebastian’s expression darkened. "But then he what?"

Oliver exhaled sharply. "He said Mom was better off dead."

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Sebastian’s grip on my wrist tightened almost imperceptibly before he released me, his voice dangerously calm.

"Tell me his name."

Oliver hesitated. "It doesn’t matter—"

"His name, Oliver."

Oliver flinched at the steel in his father’s tone. "Lucas Pembroke."

Sebastian’s lips curled into a cold smile. "Ah. The principal’s nephew."

My stomach twisted. This wasn’t just some random bully—this was a calculated attack.

And Sebastian Blackwood never let an insult go unanswered.

The cafeteria had been crowded, the usual lunchtime chaos swirling around us. But then he pushed me—hard—and spat venomous words that cut deeper than any blade.

"You don't deserve the last name Blackwood. And your mother? She probably killed herself because of you."

Something inside me snapped.

Before I could think, my fist connected with his face. A sickening crack echoed, and blood gushed from his nose. I had forgotten my own strength.

I gasped, clapping a hand over my mouth as the reality of what I'd done crashed over me. Sebastian's grip on my wrist loosened as he listened, his usually composed expression cracking. His eyes widened as he stared at Oliver, his son, standing there with trembling fists.

"I'm sorry, Dad," Oliver whispered, voice thick with emotion. "I know I'm not supposed to fight, but I couldn't just—"

Sebastian lifted a hand, silencing him before he could finish. My instinct was to protest—how could he dismiss Oliver like that? But then Sebastian turned toward Headmaster Wellington, and the air in the room turned to ice.

His voice was lethally calm.

"As I said before, my son doesn't act without reason. Now, I want to know what you intend to do about the boy who provoked him."

The headmaster paled, his gaze darting between Oliver, Sebastian, and me. "I—I had no idea, Mr. Blackwood. I'm so sorry—"

"No, you didn't," Sebastian cut in, his tone sharp as steel. "You didn’t bother to ask. You were quick to accuse Oliver without giving him a chance to explain." He leaned forward slightly, his dominance pressing down on the room. "As the largest shareholder of this institution, I expect that boy to be suspended immediately. And if he so much as breathes another insult toward anyone—especially my son—he will be expelled. As for Oliver? No punishment is necessary."

Sebastian stood, his presence commanding the space. He took my hand again, pulling me up with him.

"He’s coming home for the rest of the day," Sebastian declared, leaving no room for argument.

Headmaster Wellington swallowed hard, nodding. "Y-yes, of course, Mr. Blackwood. My apologies for the misunderstanding."

Sebastian strode toward the door but paused just before opening it.

"Oh, and you'll need a new receptionist," he added casually. "My Beta just fired yours."

With that, he yanked the door open and stormed out, dragging me along in his wake.