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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Elle

It’s a quiet day at the boutique. No customers, no pressing tasks – just me and the ticking clock on the wall, counting the minutes until I can close up shop. I’m mindlessly scrolling through my phone, pretending to organise the jewellery display, but barely paying attention. My thumb flicks over the screen, refreshing, swiping. Until I stop. Right there, in the corner of my screen, a photo catches my eye, accompanied by a hashtag that sends a chill down my spine.

#SterlingNightOut

A knot tightens in my stomach as I swipe to the next post. And there he is – Seb. There’s no mistaking him, dressed in that signature bad boy leather jacket, hair just the way I like it. But what I don’t like, not one bit, are the two women clinging to him. They’re practically draped over his shoulders, laughing, their faces blurred in the background lighting, but it’s enough. I can see his arm around one of them, his hand resting low on her hip.

My hand tightens around my phone. It must be an old photo, I tell myself, even though I know that would be impossible. He was supposed to be in Edinburgh last week for business. I thought he’d been distant since our dog walking kiss, but he assured me his father had sent him away for work and that he’d be back soon. His final message last night had said he’d gone straight to his hotel after dinner with the board. So how could this even be happening?

I keep scrolling. There’s more – so much more. The hashtag is trending, plastered over dozens of posts. Everyone seems to have an opinion, a joke, a comment about Seb’s ‘night out.’ People are posting blurry videos from different angles, tagging every gossip account they can think of.

This can’t be real, I tell myself, but my pulse races as I read one post, then another. The captions are full of assumptions and innuendo, with some commenting on Seb’s ‘wild lifestyle’ and others claiming this is the real reason he doesn’t settle down. I click on a short video, which shows him laughing, surrounded by three women this time. He’s holding a glass, raising it as the camera flashes. He looks as if he’s having the time of his life.

Is this why he’s been so distant since we kissed?

The realisation stings. I’ve been waiting all this time, hoping for him to open up, to bring me into his life beyond the late dinners and exclusive clubs. But instead, it looks like he’s living a life without me, like I’m just a small, insignificant part of his world. I bite my lip, hard, to keep the anger and hurt from boiling over.

My heart pounds as I decide to look up the actual article that’s trending. Maybe this is all a big misunderstanding. Maybe this is all gossip, I try to tell myself. I type Seb’s name and, sure enough, the first headline I see reads, “Sterling-Knight’s Wild Night: Exclusive Photos Inside London’s Hottest Club!”

I swallow, feeling my pulse throb in my throat. As I scroll down, my vision blurs as I read the words, each line sending a fresh wave of hurt and frustration through me.

Sebastian Sterling-Knight, known for his elusive private life and billion-pound business ventures, was spotted in Soho’s hottest club last night, flanked by two unknown women, one of whom he was later seen escorting to a cab. This sighting comes amid rumours of a budding relationship with an unnamed partner. Looks like the bachelor isn’t ready to give up his party days just yet.

I can hardly process the words. I feel exposed, as if the spotlight were on me and not on Seb. I glance around the empty boutique, almost paranoid that someone might see my reaction, but of course, there’s no one here. Just me, sitting alone, replaying every lie, every excuse he’s ever given me. He knew I was waiting, that I’d been putting my heart into something I thought was building into…something real. But if this is how he spends his nights, what does that say about what I mean to him?

My stomach turns as I see more headlines, each with a different spin but the same glaring message: Seb is very much single and enjoying himself.

The doorbell chimes as a customer walks in, forcing me to quickly lock my phone and paste on a smile. “Hello! Let me know if you need anything,” I say, trying to keep my tone cheerful.

“Just browsing, thanks,” the woman replies, hardly looking up from her inspection of the display case.

I take a deep breath, pretending to reorganise the necklaces as my mind spins. I keep glancing at my phone, debating whether to check if Seb has messaged me, hoping for an explanation, a reason that will somehow make sense. But there’s nothing. No new notifications, no unread messages. Just an empty inbox that matches the hollow feeling inside me.

The woman leaves after a few minutes, without buying anything, and as soon as she’s out the door, I reach for my phone again, heart pounding. If Seb wants to party without me, if he’s really that flippant about what we have, then maybe I’ve been wasting my time.

Without thinking, I pull up Candy’s contact and press the call button. It rings once, twice.

“Elle! What’s up?” Candy’s warm voice greets me, and for a moment, it’s like a balm to the hurt that’s been clawing at me. But my voice cracks when I try to respond, and she immediately picks up on it. “What’s wrong, babe?”

“Candy…he was seen. In the tabloids.” I pause, trying to collect myself, but I can’t hold back the hurt any longer. “He’s out partying with other women. There are photos everywhere. He told me he was away for work in Edinburgh, but clearly, that wasn’t the case.”

“ What ?” Her tone goes from sympathetic to livid in a heartbeat. “Are you serious? He told you he was in Edinburgh?”

“Yes. And I believed him, Candy. I thought we were…I thought we were something more. I feel like an idiot.” I swipe away a tear, not wanting to cry over this – not at work, and definitely not because of Seb.

“Listen to me, babe. You’re not an idiot. You’re one of the smartest women I know, and he’s the one being a jackass. It’s his loss, Elle, not yours.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, feeling marginally better but still humiliated. “But it’s not enough. I want him to regret this, Candy. If he’s willing to treat me like some afterthought, then I want him to know exactly what he’s throwing away.”

Candy pauses, and I can practically hear the gears turning in her head. “Alright,” she says, her voice taking on that sly, determined edge I know too well. “If he wants to be out parading around, then so can you. In fact, I know just the place to make a statement. Why don’t you meet me after work? We’ll remind Seb exactly what he’s missing out on.”

I smile, a little of the weight lifting from my shoulders. “You really think he’ll care?”

“Elle, he’s mad about you – just too thick-headed to admit it. Trust me, you’re going to turn more than a few heads tonight.”

I feel a surge of excitement building through the haze of anger. I know it might seem petty, but after months of hiding, of waiting for him to open up and take things to the next level, maybe this is what I need.

“Alright,” I say, my voice steadier. “Let’s do it. Let’s make sure he remembers who I am.”

After what feels like an eternity waiting for closing time, the boutique door chimes just as I’m turning the lock to close up. It’s Candy, stepping in with that infectious grin of hers, bundled in a scarf and clutching two takeaway coffees. Relief floods me just seeing her.

“Thought you could use this,” she says, holding out a coffee.

I take the cup gratefully, breathing in the comforting smell before taking a long sip. “You are a literal lifesaver.”

“Obviously,” she laughs. “So, are you ready to blow off some steam?”

I nod, a spark of excitement cutting through the lingering hurt. “Absolutely. Though I didn’t know ‘blowing off steam’ required a wardrobe update.”

“Oh, it does tonight.” Candy grins as she loops her arm through mine and leads me down the street toward the row of high-end shops the second I’ve locked up.

We start at a designer boutique with rows of shimmering dresses and accessories, and as soon as we step inside, Candy’s eyes start scanning the racks with purpose. While she peruses, I can’t help but notice how good she looks – happy, vibrant.

“So,” I say, pulling out a sequined dress, “tell me everything. How are things going with you and…well, all your guys?”

Candy’s eyes light up, and she gives a little shrug. “It’s…amazing, honestly. We’re all living together now, and they’re all so different but somehow just…perfect, you know?” She glances around to make sure no one’s within earshot. “Things at work are good, too – though we’re in planning mode for an event around New Year’s, so it’s been a bit intense.”

“Candy, that’s amazing,” I say, beaming. I can’t help but feel a twinge of envy at how much she’s grown into herself. “But I feel a ‘but’ coming.”

Her smile fades just a bit, and she bites her lip. “Well, recently, they’ve started dropping hints. You know – about maybe wanting…kids.” She lowers her voice, looking almost bashful. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve thought about it. And I know they’d be amazing dads. It’s just…”

She trails off, and I know exactly where she’s going. Candy has been through so much; losing her parents at such a young age has left scars that run deep.

“Just what?” I ask softly, sensing she needs to let this out.

She sighs, running her fingers along the fabric of a nearby dress. “I love them so much. But I can’t shake the fear. What if…something happened to me? Or them? I don’t think I could handle that.”

“Candy,” I say, putting a hand on her shoulder, “first of all, those guys would never let anything happen to you or a child of yours. You’ve practically got an entire security team with those five.”

She laughs, though her eyes are still clouded. “True. But I still wonder if I’d be able to do it. Sometimes I don’t even know if I’d be a good mum.”

“You’d be an amazing mum. But you don’t have to decide anything right now,” I assure her. “And when the time’s right, you’ll know. And just imagine – five loving dads doting on a baby. They’d be so spoiled, they’d probably need an extra room just for toys.”

That makes her smile again, and she reaches over to squeeze my hand. “Thanks, Elle. You always know what to say.”

We turn back to the racks, and I pull a sleek, dark green dress off the hanger. “What do you think of this one?”

Candy’s eyes widen in approval. “Oh, that’s stunning! Try it on. And I’ll go pick out a few more things while you’re at it.”

I head to the fitting room, slipping into the dress, which hugs my body in all the right places. As I step out to show Candy, she claps her hands together. “That’s it. The perfect mix of classy and sexy. Sebastian is going to have regrets,” she says with a wink.

“Regrets, maybe.” I smooth down the dress, admiring the cut. “But that’s assuming he actually cares enough to feel them.”

Candy arches an eyebrow, settling onto the fitting room bench. “So, do you actually like him?”

I look down, biting my lip. “Parts of him, I guess. When he’s being genuine, he can be…surprisingly thoughtful, you know? Like, I don’t know, it’s like he forgets to put on that whole billionaire-playboy act, and I get this glimpse of the real Seb.”

“Sounds like he’s more than just ‘some guy’ to you.”

“Maybe.” I hesitate. “But that doesn’t mean I trust him. His past is…well, it’s there, staring at me. I don’t know if he’s actually serious about me or if I’m just one more passing distraction.”

Candy sighs, tilting her head as she considers me. “Look, I’ve known you for years, and you’re not someone who’s easy to ‘pass over.’ I mean, if he can’t see what he’s got, he’s the one who’s clueless. But that doesn’t mean you need to wait around for him to figure it out.”

“Exactly.” I smirk, looking at myself in the mirror. “I think I’ll take this dress.”

“Good choice,” she says with a grin. “Now, grab a few accessories to go with it, and I’ll settle the bill.”

As we head toward the register, I realise I haven’t even asked where we’re going tonight. “By the way, where exactly are we heading?”

Candy gives me a mischievous look, one that makes me raise an eyebrow. She leans in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Oh, you’ll see soon enough. We’re going to ‘For Me’.”

My eyes widen. “Candy! Are you serious?”

“Of course. If we want to make a statement, we might as well do it somewhere we can control the room.”

I feel a thrill run through me. This is going to be a night Seb won’t forget. And whether he regrets his choices or not, tonight’s about me – proving to myself that I’m worth more than waiting around for him to decide what he wants.