Chapter 7: A Civilized Affair

The moment the heavy glass door of Sebastian’s office closed, sealing them inside his silent, minimalist fortress, the thin veneer of civility between mother and son evaporated. Delilah had been dispatched with a dismissive wave and a promise to "discuss fabrics later," leaving the two predators alone.

“Are you out of your mind?” Eleanor began, her voice not loud, but low and venomous. She walked to the center of the room, her Prada suit a slash of severe color against the muted greys of the office. “Bringing her back into this? Into our lives?”

Sebastian remained behind his vast, empty desk, a deliberate barrier between them. He slowly sat down, a king returning to his throne, and steepled his fingers. “She is a contractor, Mother. The best in her field. This is a billion-dollar project. I required the best.”

“The best?” Eleanor laughed, a short, sharp sound devoid of humor. “There are a dozen event planners in this city who are just as competent. Delilah’s own cousin runs a very successful firm. Someone more suitable. Someone without the… baggage.”

“Their portfolios don’t compare to Liliana’s,” Sebastian stated, his voice a flat, emotionless wall. “Her recent launch for the Singapore Arts Centre was a masterclass in logistics and public relations. This was a purely logical business decision.”

“Don’t you dare hide behind logic with me, Sebastian,” Eleanor hissed, taking a step toward the desk. “I am not one of your fawning board members. I am your mother. I saw the way you looked at her down there. Like a starving man who’s just been shown a feast. You think I’m a fool?”

He didn’t flinch. “I was assessing my primary asset for this launch.”

“She is not an asset, she is a liability!” Eleanor’s voice finally rose, cracking with a rare display of genuine frustration. “She is a ghost, a reminder of the single greatest mistake you ever made. You were finally moving on. Delilah is perfect for you. She is from a good family, she understands our world, and most importantly, she is… whole.”

The word hung in the air, ugly and sharp. Whole. A direct, brutal reference to Liliana’s inability to have a child.

Sebastian’s eyes turned to chips of ice. “Do not speak about her that way.”

“I will speak about her any way I please,” Eleanor retorted. “You need to get rid of her. Terminate the contract. Pay whatever penalty is required. It’s a small price to pay to avoid a much larger, more complicated disaster.”

“No,” Sebastian said. The single word was absolute, unyielding.

“What did you say?”

“I said no,” he repeated, leaning forward, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous level. “To terminate her contract now, without cause, would open this company up to a lawsuit that would not only cost us millions but would also generate the kind of negative press that would poison this launch before it even begins. Firing the most respected professional in the industry based on a personal whim is, to put it in terms you’ll understand, a catastrophically poor business decision.”

He had her trapped in a cage of pure, cold logic, and they both knew it. Eleanor’s face tightened, her perfectly manicured hands clenching into fists at her sides.

“This isn’t about business, and you know it,” she said, her voice dropping again. “This is about Delilah. This is about your future. The Baskin alliance is not a suggestion, Sebastian, it is a necessity. Their political capital is the only thing keeping that zoning commission from burying The Apex tower under a mountain of environmental impact studies. You need them.”

“And I will have their support,” Sebastian countered smoothly. “My relationship with Delilah is progressing exactly as planned.”

“A plan that will be derailed the moment that woman is back in your orbit every day,” Eleanor sneered. “You have a weakness for her. You always have. You will not risk five years of careful planning for a moment of sentimental folly. If you do not secure the engagement with Delilah by the end of the year, I assure you, your future will look very bleak indeed.”

The threat was clear, an iron fist wrapped in a velvet glove. He needed the Baskins, and his mother held the key to that alliance.

She saw the muscle in his jaw clench and knew she had struck a nerve. She shifted tactics, her expression becoming magnanimous, the benevolent queen guiding her wayward son.

“The Baskin Charity Gala is next Friday,” she announced. “It’s the premier event of the season. You will be there. You will be at Delilah’s side, you will be utterly charming, and you will not cause a scene.”

“I’m aware of my social obligations, Mother,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Good.” A slow, predatory smile spread across Eleanor’s face. She had lost the battle to fire Liliana, but she was about to open a new front in the war. “And I will, of course, be extending an invitation to Ms. Dawnson as well.”

Sebastian went completely still. The control he held so tightly finally fractured. “Absolutely not. That is a terrible idea. It’s unnecessary and deliberately provocative.”

“Nonsense, darling,” Eleanor said, her voice dripping with false sweetness as she walked toward the door. “It’s a gesture of goodwill. A peace offering. We are all professionals, are we not? It shows the world that there are no hard feelings between the Blackwoods and their former family. It shows we are all perfectly… civilized.”

The word ‘civilized’ was laced with so much poison it could kill. He knew exactly what she was doing. She was setting a stage for a public confrontation, a humiliation. She was creating a social arena and planning to throw Liliana to the lions, with Delilah at her side.

“Mother, don’t,” he said, his voice a low warning.

Eleanor paused at the door, turning to give him one last, triumphant smile. “The invitation will be sent this afternoon. I do hope she has something suitable to wear. It would be a shame for our most important contractor to look out of place.”

She swept out of the office, leaving a wake of chilling silence behind her. Sebastian stood slowly, walking to the great window and staring down at the city below. He had won the argument, protected Liliana’s professional standing with a shield of cold, hard logic.

But in doing so, he had left her completely exposed to a social ambush he now had no way of preventing. He had just handed his mother the perfect weapon, and she was aiming it directly at the one person he had sworn, in the deepest part of his shattered heart, to never let anyone hurt again.

***