Chapter 108 The Gala
Emilia’s POV
When I got home, Sebastian was already there, sitting in the living room with a glass of whiskey. He looked up when I walked in, and immediately frowned.
"What’s wrong?"
Everything, I thought. Everything is wrong, and I don’t know how to fix it.
But out loud, I just shook my head. "Nothing. I’m fine."
He studied me for a long moment, those green eyes seeing too much. "You’re a terrible liar, Emilia."
"I’m not lying," I lied.
"Are you free tomorrow night?" he asked, changing the subject. Maybe he could sense I didn’t want to talk about it.
"Why?"
"There’s a business party. I’d like you to come with me."
A party. Right. Because pretending everything was fine in front of a room full of wealthy wolves was exactly what I needed right now.
"Sure," I heard myself say. "I can do that."
Sebastian’s expression softened slightly. "Good. I’ll pick you up from work tomorrow afternoon. We’ll stop by Peter’s shop to find you a dress, then head straight to the venue."
"Okay."
He reached out and squeezed my hand briefly before heading upstairs. I stood there in the empty living room, feeling the weight of everything crushing down on me.
One week. Linda had given me one week.
Seven days to figure out how to save my marriage before she destroyed it.
The next afternoon, I was packing up my things at Hanson Group when my phone buzzed.
Sebastian: Are you out yet?
Me: On my way.
I grabbed my bag and rushed toward the exit, but Scott appeared in the doorway, blocking my path.
"Emilia, wait," he said, his expression earnest and hopeful. "Do you have time tonight? I was hoping we could—"
"Sorry, Scott," I interrupted, genuinely apologetic. "I have plans."
Before he could respond, I slipped past him and out the door. Through my peripheral vision, I caught his disappointed expression, and guilt twisted in my stomach. Scott had always been kind to me. He didn’t deserve to be caught in the middle of my complicated mess of a life.
But I didn’t have time to dwell on it. Sebastian’s black Mercedes was already waiting at the curb, and the moment I stepped outside, he opened the passenger door.
"You’re in a hurry," he observed as I slid into the seat.
"Just don’t want to keep you waiting," I said, buckling my seatbelt.
As we pulled away from the curb, I glanced at the side mirror and saw Scott standing in the doorway, watching us leave. His thoughts drifted to me, faint but clear.
[Why him? What does Sebastian Simons have that I don’t?]
I closed my eyes briefly.
Everything. He has everything, Scott. Including my heart, whether I want him to or not.
Peter’s boutique was located in the heart of Silverlake City’s fashion district, sandwiched between a high-end jewelry store and an art gallery. The moment we walked in, a middle-aged man with an outfit that could only be described as "aggressively artistic" swept toward us.
"Alpha Sebastian!" Peter exclaimed, clasping his hands together. "What a delightful surprise! To what do I owe this honor?"
"This is my wife," Sebastian said, gesturing to me. "We need a dress for tonight. Something appropriate for a business gala."
Peter’s eyes lit up as he circled me, studying me from every angle like I was a particularly interesting sculpture.
[Good bone structure... lovely coloring... this will be fun...]
"Leave it to me," Peter said with confidence. "I’ll make her shine."
Twenty minutes later, I found myself standing in front of a three-way mirror, wearing a dress that was a deep sapphire blue that made my eyes pop, with a fitted bodice and a flowing skirt that somehow managed to be both elegant and sexy.
Peter had also done something magical with my hair, pinning it up in a way that looked effortless but probably wasn’t, and had added a diamond necklace that caught the light every time I moved.
"Well?" Peter called out. "What do you think, Alpha Sebastian?"
I felt ridiculously self-conscious as I walked out into the main showroom. Sebastian was sitting in one of the leather armchairs, but he stood the moment he saw me.
For a long moment, he just stared.
"Beautiful," he finally said, his voice rougher than usual. "You look beautiful."
He walked closer, and my breath caught as his fingers brushed against my collarbone, adjusting the necklace slightly. His touch was warm, and I felt that familiar electric current that always seemed to spark between us.
Focus, Emilia, I told myself sternly. This doesn’t change anything. He still doesn’t love you.
But damn, it was hard to remember that when he was looking at me like... like that.
"Shall we?" Sebastian offered his arm.
I placed my hand on it, and together we walked out of the boutique. Behind us, I heard Peter’s thoughts, warm and wistful.
[What a stunning couple... they’re perfect together... I hope they know how lucky they are...]
I turned my head and glanced at Peter. It hit me then—standing here next to Sebastian, my mind-reading ability had finally stabilized. I could choose to hear people’s thoughts now, freely. Not like when this power first awakened, when I was forced to listen to a mess of noisy voices against my will.
I didn’t even have the excuse anymore that I needed Sebastian to keep my ability under control. If he ever found out about that agreement with Richie, he’d drive me away for sure.
I hated myself for actually falling in love with him.
"Emilia? What are you thinking about?" Sebastian asked.
I put on my best everything-is-fine face. "Nothing. Just thinking about tonight’s party."
The gala was being held at the Silverlake Grand Hotel. As Sebastian and I walked into the main ballroom, I felt dozens of eyes turn toward us.
I’d gotten used to this over the past few months—the stares, the whispers, the barely concealed curiosity. Being Sebastian Simons’ wife meant living under a microscope, and tonight was no exception.
"Breathe," Sebastian murmured near my ear. "You’re doing fine."
"I’m always fine," I muttered back.
His lips twitched slightly. "Liar."