Chapter 9

My heart hammered against my ribs as I stared at Sebastian.

Did he just speak?

“Sebastian?” I whispered, moving closer. “What did you say?”

But he just giggled, babbling nonsense as he slapped his hands against the water.

His eyes went vacant again. Blank. Like nothing happened at all.

I sighed heavily. Expecting too much again.

Maybe his brain was too far gone. Maybe that sound was just random noise.

“Forget it,” I muttered, shaking my head.

He splashed more water my way, laughing as bubbles clung to his cheeks.

I rolled my eyes. “You’re a mess.”

Sebastian grinned, reaching for my wrist. His fingers traced the fading scar from my arrow wound. His touch was unexpectedly warm.

For a split second, his brows furrowed. Something flickered in his eyes. Something unreadable.

Then it vanished.

He giggled again, distracted by the water.

I imagined it.

I shook off the odd sensation and turned away. “Let’s get you dressed.”

I took a quick shower, washing away the ink and the tension in my shoulders.

After drying off, I changed into clean clothes and helped Sebastian out of the tub.

His body was limp as I dressed him, but he didn’t resist.

Once he was clothed, I wheeled him into the hallway.

The butler stood there, looking uneasy.

I frowned. “Is something wrong?”

He shook his head quickly. “No, Madam. I was just… concerned about you handling Master Sebastian.”

I glanced at Sebastian, who was fiddling with his shirt buttons. “We managed.”

The butler looked relieved, but his gaze lingered on Sebastian a moment too long.

Something about his expression put me on edge.

I brushed my hair back and sighed. “Take him to the garden. I’ll prepare something to eat.”

The butler hesitated. “Madam, we have staff to handle the cooking—”

“I want to do it myself,” I said firmly.

He gave a slight bow. “As you wish.”

The kitchen was quiet except for the sound of my knife against the cutting board.

I focused on chopping vegetables, letting the rhythm steady my thoughts. One slice. Two. Three.

It felt… normal.

For the first time since this forced marriage began, I could breathe.

Then my phone buzzed.

I wiped my hands and picked it up.

A Facebook message.

My stomach dropped when I saw the sender.

Sophia.

I hesitated before opening it.

Pictures flooded my screen—Alexander and Sophia’s engagement party.

Alexander stood tall and handsome in a tailored suit, his arm around Sophia’s waist. She wore an elegant dress, beaming at the camera. A perfect couple. A perfect celebration.

A message followed.

Sophia: How does it feel knowing you wasted eight years with Alexander and he never married you, but a week after you left, he’s engaged to me?

I gritted my teeth.

Of course she’d gloat.

I should have ignored it. Blocked her.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I typed a quick reply.

Rachel: Congratulations.

Then I muted her messages.

I wouldn’t block her. No. That was too easy.

I wanted her to see every success, every bit of happiness I posted. I wanted her to choke on her own jealousy.

I set my phone aside and exhaled. Focus.

I finished cooking, plated the food, and stepped outside to call Sebastian and the butler.

That’s when I heard it.

Low voices.

I froze, listening closely.

I took a slow step forward.

The butler’s deep voice was the first I recognized.

I edged closer, pressing myself against the wall.

“…can’t keep delaying this,” the butler whispered.

I took another step, trying to peek through the hedge.

Just as I moved closer, the doorbell rang.

The sound made me jump.

The voices in the garden cut off instantly.

I turned toward the entrance, my pulse racing.

I glanced back at the hedge, but saw no one.

Something wasn’t right.