His Betrayal, His Regret
But I could feel it, even from this distance, as if it were directed at me.
Sebastian, with a faint smirk, continued his bold provocation. "I’m sorry. Did I misspeak? Is Lilith not your fiancée? Strange, because I can’t recall anyone of such significance in your life—at least, not based on what I’ve found." His tone was polite, almost apologetic, but dripping with intent.
Michael, Emerson’s loyal assistant, shifted uncomfortably beside him. "Mr. Sebastian, I’d suggest watching your words," he cautioned, though his voice lacked authority. It was clear who held the reins in this confrontation, and it wasn’t him.
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