The ride back to the mansion was quiet, but not the kind of silence that hung heavy with discomfort. Instead, it felt like a fragile peace—a moment suspended in time where neither of them dared to break the tentative understanding they'd finally reached. Nina sat beside Sebastian, her fingers curled loosely in her lap, while his hand rested firmly on the wheel, his knuckles no longer white with tension. Occasionally, his gaze would flick toward her, as though silently checking to make sure she was really there and not just a figment of his guilt-laced imagination.
When they arrived, the housekeeper greeted them with a polite nod, but her eyes widened ever so slightly at the sight of Nina. Sebastian offered no explanation as they walked inside. His hand brushed against the small of her back, a subtle but grounding touch that reminded her this wasn't a dream.
As they stepped into the living room, Nina noticed that not much had changed. The minimalist decor was just as pristine as before, the sleek furniture untouched, everything in its proper place. But it felt different now, like she was seeing it through new eyes—less like a fortress and more like a home waiting to be claimed.
"I'll have your things brought back to the guest room," Sebastian said as he removed his coat and placed it over the arm of the couch.
Nina hesitated. "I think… maybe I shouldn't stay in the guest room."
He looked at her, brow raised slightly in surprise.
"I don't mean we should suddenly share a bed again," she clarified quickly, cheeks warming. "But I don't want to be a visitor anymore. If I'm staying, I want to stay with intention. No more halfway arrangements."
Sebastian's lips twitched into the faintest smile. "You want your own room."
"I want to feel like I belong here. Like I'm not a temporary part of your life."
He nodded, slowly walking toward her. "You're not temporary, Nina."
His words sank into her chest like a balm. Still, she knew that words alone wouldn't be enough. Not this time.
Over the next few days, they settled into a rhythm. It wasn't perfect—there were still awkward moments and silences where neither of them knew what to say—but it was progress. Nina noticed the way Sebastian tried, in small, deliberate ways. He made time for breakfast, even if he barely touched his food. He asked about her writing, even if he didn't always know what to say in response. And at night, when the weight of the day made her bones ache, he would knock lightly on her door and ask if she wanted tea.
But not everything could stay wrapped in domestic quiet. Business continued to demand Sebastian's attention, and his world didn't pause just because he was learning how to open his heart.
One evening, while Nina was curled up in the reading nook with a half-finished manuscript, she overheard voices in the hallway. Not Sebastian's deep baritone this time, but a sharper, more calculated tone. Curious, she stood and walked toward the source of the sound.
"—you're playing a dangerous game, Sebastian," the man was saying. "The board's been whispering. They're not blind to your distraction."
Nina paused behind the slightly ajar study door, peering inside. A man in a navy suit stood across from Sebastian, arms crossed, his expression severe.
"I'm handling it," Sebastian said coolly.
"The investors aren't interested in your personal life. They want stability. Profit. If they sense even a hint of vulnerability—"
"They won't," Sebastian interrupted, voice calm but edged with steel. "I've never given them reason to doubt me."
"And yet here we are," the man retorted. "You've built this empire by being untouchable. But lately, you're slipping. Showing emotion. Prioritizing things… or people that weren't part of the plan."
Nina's stomach twisted. She didn't need anyone to tell her who the 'people' referred to.
Sebastian straightened. "This conversation is over. I don't take orders from the board."
"Maybe not. But they can make your life hell if they believe you're compromising their interests."
The man turned and brushed past Nina without noticing her. She stepped back, heart thudding, unsure if she should confront Sebastian or pretend she hadn't heard anything.
But when she walked into the study, Sebastian was already rubbing his temples like the weight of the conversation had carved itself into his skull.
"Was that one of your executives?" she asked quietly.
He looked up, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. "You heard?"
"Enough."
He gestured toward the seat across from him, and she sat without hesitation.
"They think I'm a liability," she said before he could.
"They think I'm a liability," he corrected. "Because I've let myself be human."
She swallowed. "So what now? Are you going to retreat again? Push me away to preserve your empire?"
He looked at her, really looked, and for once, the answer wasn't buried in cold logic.
"No. But I do need to be careful. I built Blackwell Industries to survive storms, not be torn apart by sentiment. But that doesn't mean I have to sacrifice everything."
"Then fight for both," she said. "Fight for your company and for us. Because I won't sit quietly while people treat me like I'm your weakness."
"You're not," he said, voice suddenly fierce. "You're the reason I want to be better."
The fire in his gaze sent a shiver down her spine—not out of fear, but because she knew he meant it.
That night, Sebastian made a rare appearance at one of the company's networking events, and Nina accompanied him for the first time. Eyes followed her everywhere. Whispers floated like smoke behind perfectly polished smiles. But Sebastian didn't leave her side. Not even when old business partners asked pointed questions or when a journalist tried to sneak a photo of them together.
As they stood beneath the crystal chandeliers of the hotel ballroom, Sebastian leaned toward her and whispered, "Let them talk. As long as you're with me, I don't care what they say."
Nina smiled, gripping his hand a little tighter. "Let them. I'm not afraid."
And for the first time since stepping into his world, she truly meant it.