Chapter 95

The morning sun filtered through the heavy drapes of Sebastian Blackwood's private study, casting golden streaks across the antique mahogany desk where Lillian sat fidgeting. Her fingers traced the intricate carvings on the armrests of the leather chair that smelled faintly of sandalwood and power.

Across from her, Donovan leaned against the bookshelf with practiced nonchalance, but his knuckles whitened around the book he pretended to read. The tension between them was thicker than the ancient Lycan texts lining the walls.

"You're telling me you never felt the mate bond?" Lillian's voice came out sharper than intended, her wolf bristling beneath her skin. The scent of peppermint and betrayal clung to Donovan's tailored suit.

Sebastian entered without knocking, his imposing frame filling the doorway. "We have more pressing matters," he said, tossing a sealed envelope onto the desk. The Blackwood crest shimmered ominously under the lamplight.

Lillian's breath hitched as she recognized Evelyn's looping handwriting on the envelope addressed to Donovan. The paper smelled of jasmine and deceit.

Beatrice burst in moments later, her usually perfect curls disheveled. "You need to see this," she panted, shoving her phone toward Lillian. The screen displayed a gossip blog's headline: "Lycan Heiress Victoria Blackwood's Engagement in Jeopardy?"

Sebastian's growl rattled the crystal decanters on the sidebar. "Marcus," he barked, and his Beta appeared instantly in the doorway. "Handle this. Now."

Lillian's phone buzzed with a notification from Oliver's school. Headmaster Wellington requested an urgent meeting regarding "inappropriate supernatural displays" during recess. Her stomach dropped. The seven-year-old had been struggling to control his shifting since Victoria moved back into the mansion.

Donovan finally spoke, his voice dripping with false concern. "Maybe you're not cut out for this life, Lillian. A college student playing house with a Lycan chairman?" His smirk didn't reach his cold eyes. "The boy needs his real family."

Sebastian moved faster than humanly possible, pinning Donovan against the bookshelf. Ancient tomes clattered to the floor. "Finish that sentence," he challenged, his canines elongating.

The doorbell chimed melodically through the tense silence. Theodore Whitmore's measured footsteps echoed down the hall, followed by an unfamiliar female voice asking for "Mr. Blackwood" in clipped British tones.

Lillian's wolf stirred anxiously. The scent wafting from the foyer was all wrong—bergamot and ambition with an undercurrent of something metallic. Blood? Magic? She couldn't tell.

Beatrice grabbed her arm. "That's Isabella's perfume," she whispered urgently. "My sister never visits unannounced."

The pieces clicked together with terrible clarity. Lillian met Sebastian's gaze across the room as the same realization dawned on him. This wasn't a social call. The Fontaine models only made house visits for one reason—to deliver messages too sensitive for phones or emails.

And judging by Donovan's suddenly pale complexion, he knew exactly what message was coming.

"Are you alright?" Victoria asked, her voice laced with concern.

I blinked rapidly, disoriented by the abrupt shift in atmosphere.

"I think so," I murmured, though my fingers tightened around the shopping bags. "But can we leave now?"

Her lips pursed into a frown. "Not until we've shopped until we drop," she declared, looping her arm through mine. "Let's give them something to really keep up with."

Every fiber of my being screamed to escape this place, but I swallowed my protests. An hour later, we emerged with arms laden with designer bags. Mercifully, Frederick still waited by the curb, and we offloaded our purchases into the car before diving back into the boutiques. By the time we finished, exhaustion gnawed at my bones and my stomach growled loudly.

"Could you two perhaps take a walk for an hour while we dine?" Victoria addressed her guards with a honeyed tone.

The men exchanged wary glances.

"Our orders are to remain with you—" one began.

"I'm well aware of the orders," she cut in sharply, then softened her voice. "But surely dinner doesn't require an armed escort? Just... give us some breathing room."

The second guard scratched his jaw. "Where exactly are we supposed to go?"

"Stay here with Frederick," Victoria suggested with a dismissive wave. "That way you'll be close if anything happens."

After a tense silence, they relented with stiff nods.

"One hint of trouble and we're extracting you immediately," the taller guard warned, crossing his muscular arms.

Victoria rewarded them with a dazzling smile before striding toward an intimate bistro, gesturing for me to follow. The hostess—a willowy blonde who clearly recognized Victoria—greeted her by name with obsequious enthusiasm, barely acknowledging my presence.

We settled at a corner table where Victoria ordered two glasses of crisp Sauvignon Blanc and sparkling lemon water. As we perused the menu, the weight of unspoken words hung between us. I finally selected a truffle-infused BLT with artisanal slaw while Victoria chose a Mediterranean salad with grilled octopus.

The silence stretched as we sipped our wine, the clink of cutlery against porcelain echoing in the quiet space. Victoria's fingers drummed an erratic rhythm against the tablecloth, her gaze darting toward the entrance twice before I cleared my throat.

"You mentioned wanting to talk," I prompted gently.

She worried her lower lip between her teeth before leaning in. "It's about Donovan," she whispered, casting a furtive glance around the restaurant.

My chest constricted—I'd known this conversation was inevitable, yet the mention of his name still sent ice through my veins. The unspoken words hovered between us like storm clouds, heavy with implications I wasn't ready to face.

I leaned back against the plush leather seat, my fingers tightening around the armrest as I studied Victoria's nervous expression. The air between us grew thick with tension, making each breath feel heavier than the last.

"Go on," I urged cautiously, my voice barely above a whisper.

She twisted her hands in her lap, her perfectly manicured nails digging into her palms. "I don't know how to phrase this properly, and I'm mortified to even ask..." Her words tumbled out in a rushed whisper. "But is there... something happening between you and Donovan?"

My eyebrows shot up so fast they nearly disappeared into my hairline. "Excuse me?" The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Her cheeks flushed crimson as she blurted, "Are you two... intimate?"

The question hit me like a physical blow. My entire body jerked as if electrocuted, and only sheer willpower kept me from leaping to my feet. Instead, I sat frozen, my mouth slightly agape as I struggled to process her accusation. What possible reason could she have for thinking that? Had we been careless with our interactions?

When my silence stretched too long, Victoria flinched. "Please understand, I have to know - are you sleeping with my fiancé, Lillian?"

"Absolutely not!" The denial tore from my throat in a harsh whisper. "What would make you even consider such a thing?" My fingers curled into fists against my thighs.

She worried her lower lip between her teeth, leaving faint indentations in the glossy pink surface. "Because there's this... tension between you two," she admitted quietly. "You get all stiff whenever he's near, and Donovan... Donovan can't stop watching you when you're in the room."

Heat flooded my cheeks at her observation. I hadn't realized we'd been so obvious.

"I swear to you, nothing inappropriate has happened," I said firmly, leaning forward to emphasize my words. "I barely know the man. We met through mutual acquaintances before your introduction, but that's all. I would never cross that line with someone who's committed to another person."

The words tasted bitter on my tongue, but they needed to be said. Victoria studied my face with an intensity that made my pulse race, searching for any hint of deception. I held her gaze steadily, praying my expression revealed only sincerity.