"I Was Never Sebastian's Choice but Yours"

The maître d’ brought the next course, small and perfect, a quiet pause in their tense talk. Neither of them touched it. Arthur's eyes stayed on hers, steady and thoughtful. A tilt of his head, a slight lift of his brow, tiny gestures most people would miss, but not her.

Arthur looked at the untouched cup of herbal tea in front of him. “I watched the convention closely,” he said. “Your work, your regenerative techniques, the biomedical applications… they made quite an impression.”

Alina gave a calm nod. “Thank you. The team in Atheria has been very supportive.”

He studied her, his dark eyes assessing. "When you disappeared, I wasn't sure the medical world would see your work again. But clearly, they have been waiting for you."

"People move on," she replied evenly. "Some quietly, some not. But important work always finds its way forward."

A faint line formed on Arthur’s brow, a mix of respect, old debt, and a subtle test. “Yes. Your inventions can change lives. Even while you were gone, your influence spread.”

She paused for a moment, letting the words settle. “Influence only matters when it has purpose. Otherwise, it’s just noise.”

Arthur’s eyes stayed locked on hers. “I always admired that in you. Even before…”

He left the rest unsaid, letting silence hang between them, stretched thin like a waiting line neither wanted to cross first.

"Your return shows me how the board moves without thinking about the people behind the work. You and your ideas can't be ignored." He gave a small nod, respect in his eyes. "That's why I asked for this meeting. But before we continue, what happened, Alina? Your leaving, the divorce, how some of the Vaughn family treated you... and Natasha. I saw it all, even if I didn’t speak up. I regret it.”

Alina kept her gaze steady, calm but firm. “It was complicated. I made choices to protect what mattered. Other people’s behavior wasn’t mine to fix. I focused on myself, my work, my life. I built something no one could define or control. I waited for love, for care, for something real but it never came. I tried to be a good wife, but I couldn’t wait forever. My skills, my career, my growth… I couldn’t waste them hoping. I was never Sebastian’s choice, you chose me. Natasha was the one your wife wanted as ‘Mrs. Vaughn,’ not me. I built my own life, power, and name outside your circle. And I won’t let anyone pull me down again.”

Arthur’s eyes softened. “I watched from afar. Your work, your inventions… they’re remarkable. I regret that you faced burdens that weren’t yours alone.”

“I did what I had to,” she said calmly. “The work leads on its own.”

Arthur fell quiet, studying her, letting unspoken debts and old tension hang in the silence.

Then he spoke again, voice lower. “To be honest, I hoped for an heir. I’m not getting younger or healthier. I…” He paused, swallowing. “I didn’t see it coming, your leaving. And it was never your fault. Maybe my son… made choices that kept me waiting.”

Alina's gaze remained steady. "The problem was never me. Perhaps your son should answer for what he wants. You can have as many heirs with Natasha as you wish.”

His jaw tightened at the name. Natasha had never been his choice; she was ambition without foundation.

Alina’s thoughts drifted briefly to Marlowe, to Nathaniel and Charlotte. They were hers. No one could touch them.

She let the moment breathe before speaking. “If you ever need help with your health, even from afar, I’ll do it. I live in Marlowe, but care isn’t bound by distance.”

Arthur nodded slightly, accepting the offer. They sat in quiet understanding. Each glance held history, weight, and the promise of more moves to come.

He looked again at the cold tea in front of him. Then he asked, “So… is this permanent? Are you returning to Atheria for good?”

“My life is in Marlowe now,” she said. “I'm only here for my work. I need closure too, so I can move freely, without anyone watching me all the time."

When the evening ended, a quiet sense of strategy lingered. Outside, the night continued as usual. But for Alina, every step now was about taking back control and her place in a world that once tried to define her.

Later that night, Arthur returned to the Vaughn estate, the conversation still heavy in his mind. Sebastian was there waiting, and his presence seemed to bring out a rush of hidden frustration.

Arthur’s temper rose. “You’ve let too much slip through your fingers,” he said sharply. “I’ve been patient, but you’re in your thirties and there is still no heir. Natasha cannot give this family what it needs. She will never be the mother I want for my grandchildren. Do you understand what we’ve lost?”

Sebastian stood straighter. “I do. And she can’t be replaced. That role… it was always hers.”

He felt the weight of the truth he carried, a secret no one else knew. Not Arthur, not the family. He had never signed the divorce papers. He didn't fully understand why he hadn't, or why he had waited all these years, but somehow, deep down, he knew it had been the right choice.

Arthur’s voice rose, anger and strain mixing. “You think words fix this?”

“I know she made her choices,” Sebastian replied quietly. "I don't question them. But, I understand her in a way you might not."

Old tension, years of regrets and pressure, all pressed in at once. Arthur suddenly staggered, clutching his chest.

“Father!” Sebastian rushed forward. “Sit, breathe!”

“Martin! Call an ambulance!” he shouted.

Arthur’s breathing grew shallow, pain twisting through him. The room felt small, tight, filled with echoes of what had never been said.

Emilia appeared in the doorway. “Arthur! Someone call the hospital!”

Sebastian held on to him, helpless. When the ambulance arrived, Arthur was pale, sweating, fighting for breath.

The room fell silent except for strained breaths.

Outside, Atheria’s city lights glowed quietly. Inside, legacy and secrets hung in the air, still unsolved, still waiting.