Elizabeth's POV

The cleaner's number had finally gone through, and she assured me that May was stable. The doctor had stopped by, checked her vitals, and advised rest and proper nutrition. Nothing life-threatening. Nothing close to what my racing heart had conjured.

But I was still worried.

So, when we stepped into Sebastian's penthouse, soaked from worry and the earlier rain, what I saw felt like a punch to the gut.

May.

Perched like a damn queen on the cream velvet sofa. One leg crossed lazily over the other, a wine glass poised in her hand, her lips stained the same shade of red as her nails. Her cleavage was on full display, like her shirt had lost a few too many buttons on the way here.

She didn't look sick. Or weak. Or anything close to what the word "unconscious" might suggest.

She looked.... annoyed.

"Elizabeth," she said flatly, barely hiding the distaste curling around her name. Her eyes flicked to Sebastian, then back to me. "Didn't expect you to be tagging along."

I opened my mouth, then closed it. Sebastian was silent beside me.

"I thought you were......" I started.

"What?" she cut in with a soft laugh. "I just passed out for a second. Overworked. Probably stress." She waved the wine glass, like the sight of her stretched-out on his sofa in lingerie and silk was perfectly normal. "But I'm much better now."

I didn't miss the way her leg uncrossed, then re-crossed slower, deliberate. Or how her voice softened when she turned to him again. "You came quickly though, Sebastian. I wasn't expecting that."

My stomach twisted.

She had called him here. Not because she was unwell. But because she wanted him.

It wasn't a cry for help, it was a damn booty call.

Sebastian didn't move. His jaw ticked, but he said nothing.

I took a slow breath. "So you're fine?"

May sipped her wine and gave me a shrug. "Perfectly."

"Then I'll leave."

I turned, grabbing the doorknob before I lost the last shred of dignity holding my spine upright.

"Elizabeth," Sebastian called behind me.

But I didn't stop.

Not even when May's laughter trailed behind me, light and amused.

"Maybe knock next time, sweetheart," she purred. "You wouldn't want to walk in on something you're not ready to see."

____

I went outside, but that's when I realized that I would need a ride back, and it was still raining like crazy. I stood there near the gates, biting my fingernails, contemplating what to do next.

Gosh, I had no umbrella. No taxis. And not enough pride left to turn around and ask for a ride.

My phone screen was foggy, the signal bar pathetically blinking.

I hated how I could still hear her laugh in my ears. How casual she had been, draped over his furniture like she belonged there, like I was the intruder.

A clap of thunder rolled overhead. I blinked up at the sky, biting harder.

Why did it sting so much?

I had told myself this wasn't real. I had told myself Sebastian wasn't mine to want. But the sight of her, so comfortable in his home, in his world, made me feel like a stupid little girl chasing fantasies with bruised knees.

My heart jerked when the gates clicked open behind me. Footsteps.

"Elizabeth," his voice cut through the sound of the rain. "Don't be ridiculous. Get back in."

I didn't turn. "I'm not going back in there. She's your wife."

"I explained my arrangement with your mother, Elizabeth."

"She's in your clothes. In your house. Drinking your wine. You showed up the moment she snapped her fingers. If that's not a wife, then I don't know what is."

He came up beside me, not touching, just close enough that the heat from his body pulled mine in.

"Come inside at least, spend the night here. I can't drive under this rain and I can't let you leave under this rain either.

I wanted to be stubborn to say something, but as if on cue, lightning hit the ground a few inches from where I stood. He didn't even flinch but I already grabbed at my wet shoes and ran in.

"Just one night, thank you."

He closed the door behind me, a chuckle escaping his lips.

"You seem to say that frequently these days." He leaned in, "just one night."

I got the memo, my cheeks involuntarily heating up. I wanted to ask him to quit it. But May interrupted me before I could get a word out.

"You haven't left yet?" The disappointment in her tone was obvious.

Her voice slithered from the living room like a snake slipping through silk.

I didn't even look her way. I was dripping water onto the marble floors, freezing from the cold.

Sebastian stepped around me, his hand briefly brushing the small of my back before he moved forward. It was small. Barely even a touch. But it grounded me.

"I told her to stay the night," he said flatly.

May let out a small scoff. "Of course you did."

"May," Sebastian warned,

"What?" she said, feigning innocence. "I just find it interesting that I black out, possibly from stress or exhaustion, and suddenly your little student, my daughter, shows up like some.....stray cat you just had to bring in."

I turned to her now. Slowly. "The only reason I came was because the cleaner said you were unconscious. I was worried. Foolishly, as it turns out."

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Touching."

"Sebastian," I said, already highly irritated, "Where's the guest room?"

He nodded toward the left hallway. "Second door. Fresh sheets."

I gave him a grateful glance and turned to go, not sparing May another word.

But her parting shot still found its mark.

"You always did want what was mine, Elizabeth."

I paused mid-step.

"If this is about your past boyfriends, I was never interested in any of those pigs,"

She rolled her eyes and sipped from her cup.

"Some days I wish that you didn't even have me." My tone was bitter.

She was never there for me, broke the only one who was, abandoned him, even caused his death. And I hated the part of me that still cared about her.

"I should've went through with that abortion when I had the chance"

I turned to her. My nails digging into my palm.

**Elizabeth's POV**

Without a moment's hesitation, I stormed into the guest room and slammed the door behind me, the sound reverberating off the walls like a thunderclap.

"Don't break down the door; this isn't your house!" May's voice rang out, sharp and biting.

"You don't have to be so mean, you know," I heard Sebastian interject softly, trying to calm the tension.

"What? She isn't welcome here, so don't let her think she is," May retorted, each word dripping with disdain.

The room enveloped me in warmth, a cozy sanctuary tailored for the chilly day outside, yet it did little to erase the gnawing feeling of being an unwelcome intruder. Every glimpse of May only deepened my longing for my dad. It was a cruel thought that clawed at my mind, but I couldn't help but imagine a world where May had been the one to leave us behind.

A few minutes later, Sebastian stepped inside, a freshly ironed oversized t-shirt draped casually over his arm.

"I know this is your house, but at least knock before you enter," I snapped, irritation bubbling over. "What if I was naked?"

He approached, his presence filling the space between us, standing just a breath away. The heat radiating from him made my skin tingle in response.

He let out a soft scoff, a playful smirk dancing at the corners of his pink lips. "See you naked? I don't think that will be the first time."

His gaze held mine, deliberate and tantalizing, as if each second stretched between us, charged with an undeniable electricity.

I took a step back, instantly regretting the proximity. "Your wife is still awake in the other room, you know."

A playful smirk danced at the corners of his lips as his gaze remained fixed on mine, unwavering and intense. "She's snoring away in the other room. Must have had one too many glasses of wine," he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

May had always drowned herself in a sea of wine, swirling her emotions with each sip whenever a man was about to step through the door.

"Well, that doesn't change the fact that she's still in the house," I pressed, my frustration simmering beneath the surface.

"Here, put this on," he said, stretching a soft, worn t-shirt toward me, its fabric bearing the faint scent of him. "I'll whip up something for you to eat."

At the mention of food, my stomach twisted uncomfortably, a stark reminder that I hadn't eaten since lunchtime, the hunger gnawing at me like a relentless tide.

After dinner, Sebastian returned with a midnight snack in hand. He breezed into the room without the courtesy of knocking, and I rolled my eyes, turning my attention back to the dressing mirror that reflected my exasperation.

"I thought we could chat over this," he said, holding up a steaming bowl of buttery popcorn, the tantalizing aroma wafting through the air, teasing my senses.

"If you're here to discuss my mother, then I'm not interested," I shot back, my tone sharp. Without sparing him a fleeting glance, I bent down to retrieve the hair ribbon that had slipped from my grasp, feeling the weight of the moment pressing in around us.

When I stood up, he was standing behind me. Our bodies brushed against each other.

My heart raced. I could feel the heat from him and my body seemed to want more physical contact.

"Well, I thought we could talk about us," he whispered, his lips brushing against my earlobe.

A shock wave coursed through my body, my folds moist. Eyes shut. Lips pouted, and fingers grabbed tightly onto the dressing table. I tried to warn myself that he belonged to my mother, but she didn't deserve an atom of loyalty and my body definitely thought so too.

I didn't know when I replied. Voice laced with longing. "What about us?."

He paused. I could hear a soft chuckle escape his lips. "You're rock hard."

Slightly I opened my eyes to look at us in the mirror. My eyes darted to my nipple

It was rock hard and popped out of the t-shirt.

Embarrassment snapped me out of the heat that was brewing inside. I moved away from him, cleared my throat and said. "This is not right, she's still my mother."

There was a brief and loud silence. His gaze settled on my hard nipple. Flushed, I crossed my arms on my chest, hiding my nipples. His smirked, eyes dark with lust. He swallowed hard, eyes squeezed shut, as if pushing back the intense desire that threatened to take over.

Then he opened his eyes. Nodded, and raised his hand. A sign of surrender. "Okay, you win. But let's see how long you can fight the longing."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied, avoiding eye contact.

He smiled. "It's okay, we'll see about that," he said, before walking out of the room.

***

**Sebastian's POV**

As I walked through the door, a whirl of emotions crashed over me. The relief that May was indeed fine, that her drama had merely been a desperate play for my attention, mingled with confusion. What would Elizabeth think about this situation? Deep down, I knew she could read her mother like a book; she understood the unspoken desires that lay beneath the surface-desires that pointed squarely at me.

I had just laid bare the details of my complicated relationship with May to Elizabeth, hoping it would help clear the air. Yet, as I stood there, uncertainty gnawed at me. What words could I muster to make her understand? I owed her nothing, but the thought of leaving her with misconceptions twisted in my chest. I couldn't bear the idea of her feeling lost in a fog of misunderstanding.

The tension between Elizabeth and May now made a cruel kind of sense. Their relationship resembled a battlefield far more than the nurturing bond it was meant to represent. It was no surprise, really, that Elizabeth's name had been absent from our conversations until now.

Elizabeth-the tender heart caught in the crossfire of a tumultuous family dynamic-was still so young, desperately yearning for the unwavering love and support of a parent. But in a twist of fate, the only person meant to nurture her had instead chosen to disdain her. Add to this the torment she faced daily at school, and my heart shattered at the thought of her struggle. In that moment, a fierce protective instinct ignited within me; I wanted nothing more than to shield her from the world's cruelty and be the steadfast guardian she so desperately needed.

For that one mission, that brief but intense night we spent together kept playing in my head like a song on replay. It was a night where perhaps, just perhaps, I could be the person to lift the weight off her young shoulders.