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CHAPTER TWENTY

Seb

Elle’s body is soft and warm against mine, her breathing evening out as she rests in my arms. Her trust, her vulnerability – it’s like a drug I can’t resist. Even back then, when she was just Aiden’s little sister, there was something about her that made me take notice – her sharp wit, her stubbornness, the way she never tried to be anyone but herself. She wasn’t like the polished debutantes my father paraded in front of me. Elle was real. But I never let myself look at her too closely, not until now.

I stare at the ceiling, my fingers absently stroking her bare shoulder, but my mind is anything but calm.

What the hell was I thinking? Losing control like that, pushing her so far, only to pull her back into my arms as though I could keep her safe from the very chaos I unleashed. It was intoxicating, watching her unravel beneath me, giving me everything. She’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met – strong-willed, infuriating, and yet so achingly perfect for me that it terrifies me.

Perfect. The word sticks in my head like a stubborn splinter. Elle, with her defiance, her sharp tongue, and that fire in her eyes. She isn’t just someone I want; she’s someone I need. The women I’ve been with before were flawless on paper – polished, poised, and perfect in a way that felt suffocating. They played by the rules, followed the script, and expected me to do the same. But Elle...Elle burns through the script. She rewrites the damn thing and dares me to keep up. It’s maddening and exhilarating, and I’ve never felt so alive. Knowing that her bedroom tastes are as wild and unrestrained as her personality, only confirms what I’ve always suspected – she’s perfect for me in ways no one else could ever be.

I was supposed to keep this simple. Take her virginity, fulfill my end of the bargain, and walk away from the marriage in twelve months. No complications. No emotions.

But the idea of anyone else touching her, seeing her the way I have, even a year from now, makes my stomach twist into knots.

I told myself this was just a deal. A business arrangement. But the thought of walking away now, feels like a blade twisting in my chest. I can’t let her go – not now, not ever.

And then there’s my father. His shadow looms over every decision I’ve ever made – my career, my relationships, even the women I was supposed to entertain. Elle doesn’t fit his mold. Not really. She isn’t the polished, poised heiress he’s groomed me to marry. I mean, she is on the surface and in name, but deep down that isn’t who she really is. She’s fire where he demands ice, passion where he demands perfection. He’ll see her as a threat and try to tear her apart.

I’m worried he’ll smell a rat the second he lays eyes on us. In fact, I’m sure of it. He’ll see through the lie we’ve constructed and pick her apart, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left but her pride – and god help me, I don’t think I could survive seeing him break her.

But I can’t delay it forever. He’ll demand answers, and if I refuse, he’ll come looking for them himself. For years, his voice dictated every decision I made, and Elle was no exception. I could never bring her into that world, not when he’d tear her down with his expectations and judgments.

But now? She’s worth the fight. She always was.

I glance down at Elle, her face softened in sleep. My chest tightens. She deserves more than this mess I’ve dragged her into. She deserves to know she’s not just some pawn in this twisted game my father and I are playing. She deserves to know she’s mine because I chose her – not just because I needed her to prove a point.

I have to propose before she meets him.

The thought settles heavily in my chest, not because I dread it, but because it feels right, even if the reasons are wrong. In an ideal world, I could wait until this thing budding between us has a chance to grow and blossom. But there’s no time, and I don’t want her to think for a second that my father’s approval dictates anything about us. Especially not my proposal.

The idea of putting a ring on her finger, of claiming her fully, ignites something primal inside me.

But how the hell do I make her believe it’s real, when I’ve done nothing to show her the real me? How do I make her see that this isn’t about some damn deal anymore?

My fingers tighten slightly on her shoulder, and she stirs, mumbling softly before settling again. I press a kiss to her hair, guilt and longing warring within me.

I want her. Not just tonight, not just to win this battle with my father. I want her in my bed, in my life, in my heart, every damn day. And the thought of walking away after all this? Impossible.

But I’ve already lied to her. Told her this was temporary. How do I take that back without losing the fragile trust she’s given me?

And worse – what if I’ve already ruined it? What if I tell her I want more and she doesn’t? Could I change her mind? Use the twelve months we’re wed to make her fall in love with me? Or will she just grow to resent me?

The thought churns in my gut as I shift slightly, trying not to wake her. My father’s voice echoes in my mind, cold and calculated. He’ll want her background, her connections, her worth. And when he finds out she doesn’t exactly fit his mold, he’ll try to tear her down.

Not if I get there first.

The decision solidifies in my mind. I’ll propose tomorrow. Show her that this is real, that she’s not some pawn. And then, when she meets him, she’ll know without a doubt where I stand. That I chose her regardless of his opinion.

I glance at the clock on the nightstand, the faint glow of the numbers marking the early hours of the morning. If I let her wake here, she’ll ask questions I’m not ready to answer.

I nudge her gently, her sleepy murmur pulling at something deep inside me. “Elle,” I whisper, my voice low but firm.

She stirs, blinking up at me, her gaze hazy and unfocused. “What time is it?” she mumbles.

“Early,” I say, brushing a hand through her hair. “I need to see you at dawn. Meet me outside your apartment.”

Her brow furrows, confusion flickering in her eyes. “Why?”

I hesitate, my thumb tracing the curve of her cheek. “Because I need you,” I admit softly. “Because tomorrow...it’s just us. No club. No distractions. Just you and me.”

Her eyes search mine, and for a moment, I see a flicker of hesitation. But then she nods, her trust in me shining through the cracks of her doubt.

“Okay,” she whispers, her voice still thick with sleep.

I press a kiss to her forehead, holding her close for one last moment before I force myself to let her go. Tomorrow will change everything. And god help me, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready – but I know I can’t lose her. The proposal can’t wait – not because of my father, but because of her. I need her to see the truth in what I feel, even if the words stumble out like a man desperate to keep his world intact. She deserves the fairytale proposal, the grand gestures, but all I can give her right now is this truth: I can’t imagine a life without her. And I’ll spend every day proving it, if she’ll let me.

I shift carefully, extracting myself from Elle’s warmth without waking her. The blanket pools around her, her blonde hair a soft halo against the pillow. For a moment, I stand at the edge of the bed, my fists clenched at my sides, fighting the instinct to crawl back in and hold her until morning.

What if she doesn’t believe me? What if she thinks this is just another part of the game – another move in the deal we made?

I rake a hand through my hair and begin pacing the room, the storm in my head refusing to quiet.

I remember her standing on the dock at the lake, barely sixteen, arguing with Aiden about something ridiculous. She was fierce, determined to have the last word even though she barely came up to his shoulder. That fire set her apart even then, and now, it’s impossible to ignore.

The dim light paints the space in soft shadows, but it might as well be a spotlight shining on my failure. Before Elle, my life was a series of cold, calculated moves – a chessboard where every piece I played was dictated by my father’s strategy. But she’s not a piece on the board. She’s the game changer. The thought of losing her, of letting her walk away because I was too much of a coward to show her what she means to me, is unbearable. I’d give up the inheritance, the company, all of it – because none of it matters without her.

I’ve ruined it. The perfect moment, the fragile trust she handed me, shattered because I let him creep into my head. My father – always a looming shadow in the corners of my life, dictating my choices, pushing me toward a perfection I never wanted but could never escape.

I’ll have to find the words to convince her, to show her that this isn’t about my father, the contract, or the inheritance. It’s about her. About us.

Elle’s eyes flash in my mind, soft and questioning, the way they stiffened with quiet unease when I mentioned the meeting. She didn’t say anything, but I saw it – the way her shoulders tightened, the way she braced herself, like she was already expecting judgment.

“Fucking idiot,” I mutter under my breath, scrubbing a hand down my face. I shouldn’t have said anything. I should’ve waited. Found the right moment to explain. Prepared her for what meeting my father really means. Instead, I bulldozed the intimacy we’d built with a careless, stupid remark.

Even now, the idea of her meeting him sends a bolt of unease through me. I can already hear his voice, clipped and icy. I can see the gleam in his eyes, sharp and calculating as he dissects Elle, looking for weaknesses to exploit.

“Sebastian, really? A shop assistant? This is the woman you’ve chosen to bring into this family?”

The thought alone makes my blood boil. He doesn’t get to look at her that way. Elle isn’t just some woman to parade in front of him for approval. She’s so much more than that.

She’s perfect.

The realisation slams into me, knocking the air out of my lungs. Not perfect in the way my father would ever accept – but perfect for me.

Everything about her draws me in: her fire, her vulnerability, the way she challenges me at every turn. She doesn’t hesitate to push back when I cross the line, yet in my arms, she softens in a way that makes me feel like I’m the only one who truly sees her.

And I’m ruining it.

The deal was clear. One night. That’s all it was supposed to be. I’d take her virginity, give her what she asked for, and then leave her alone. No complications. No attachments.

But now the thought of walking away feels like a blade twisting in my chest. I clench my fists, my jaw tightening as the answer becomes painfully clear: I can’t. Not anymore.

The club is the first thing that has to go. I can’t stand the idea of other men looking at her the way they did before – hungry, calculating, like she’s something they can take. She’s mine. And if anyone so much as thinks about touching her, they’ll have to answer to me.

But my father...he’s the bigger problem. He won’t let this slide without a fight. The man lives to control every aspect of my life, from my career to my relationships. Bringing Elle into this mess will put her directly in his crosshairs.

Unless I act first.

Elle needs to know this is real. She needs to understand that I’ve chosen her – not because of my father, not because of the deal we made, but because I can’t imagine my life without her.

I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees, my head in my hands. Tomorrow. I’ll ask her tomorrow. It won’t be perfect – nothing about this situation is – but it’ll be honest. She’ll know that this is about us, not him.

But doubt creeps in, insidious and sharp. What if she says no? What if she looks at me and sees the mess I’m dragging her into, the chaos of my life, and decides it’s not worth it?

The thought is unbearable.

My jaw tightens as I push myself to my feet. No. I can’t let that happen. I’ll make her see. I’ll make her feel how much she means to me, how much I want her – not just for a night, but for forever.

The proposal. It’s not just a strategy anymore; it’s a necessity. It’s not just about protecting her from my father or sealing the deal we made. It’s about showing her – showing both of us – that she’s the only thing in my life that makes sense.

I turn back to the bed, and my gaze softens. Elle stirs slightly, her lips parting as she mumbles something incoherent in her sleep. God, she’s beautiful.

I walk over and lean down, pressing a soft kiss to her temple, lingering for a moment as her breath feathers against my skin. She doesn’t know it yet, but tomorrow will change everything. I’ll make her see this is real – not a deal, not a strategy, but us. And even if I can’t give her perfection, I’ll spend every day proving that I’m hers.

I pull the blanket up to cover her bare shoulders, my voice low and rough as I whisper, “Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I’ll make you mine.”