The Cursed Proposal

Chapter 21: Cracked Facade

Sebastian tightened his hold, his lips pressing firmly against Kaya's as though he could draw her closer—closer than the nonexistent space between them. His hand slid to her neck, tilting her head just enough to deepen the kiss, his tongue brushing against hers in a way that sent a shiver down his spine. He hadn't planned for this—this fire, this undeniable pull that coursed through him, as if she were awakening parts of him he'd long locked away.

She tasted of defiance and longing, an impossible contradiction that carved its place into his chest. His breaths grew ragged, each one blending with hers in a chaotic harmony. For a moment—a single, fragile moment—he let himself believe. Believe that this wasn't a façade. That the emotions in her kiss mirrored his own. That she saw him not as a pawn, but as a man who could dare to hope again.

But hope was dangerous. He knew that better than anyone.

Sebastian slowed, his lips lingering for one last, fleeting kiss before he pulled back. His hand remained at her neck, his thumb brushing against her jaw as though memorizing the curve of it. His forehead pressed against hers, his eyes closed, as if shutting out the world could stop the ache building in his chest.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. The space between them felt heavier than it had been before, filled with unspoken words and emotions that neither could voice. The quiet seemed to stretch on forever, pulling them both into an uncomfortable, heart-wrenching stillness.

"Don't give hope to a broken man, Sunshine," he whispered, his voice raw, trembling with restraint. "It will only make him greedy."

His words hung in the air, thick with sorrow and regret. There was no reply. No protest. Just the sound of their breaths, mingling, shallow and fragile.

Kaya's lips parted as though she might speak, but no words came. Her eyes remained shut, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths as if she was still trying to process what had just happened, or maybe still trying to hold on to whatever it was they had shared. She didn't move, didn't try to pull away. But she didn't lean into him, either. The distance between them felt insurmountable now as if their connection had been severed in that one, devastating moment.

Sebastian held onto the silence like a lifeline, his own breath ragged, his chest tight as if the air itself was choking him. He wanted to look at her, to see the truth in her eyes, to know whether she felt what he felt. But he couldn't. The vulnerability was too much. The fear of what he might see was too great.

A part of him—a reckless, foolish part—wanted her to say something. To tell him he was wrong. To prove that this wasn't just a game to her. To remind him that he wasn't the broken man he believed himself to be. But he wouldn't ask. He couldn't afford to.

The space between them had already become a chasm. The realization was cold, hard, and final. And just as the weight of it seemed unbearable, the sound of the office door creaking open broke the fragile tension.

Sebastian closed his eyes, willing himself to snap back into the mask he wore so effortlessly. The moment was lost, and the illusion shattered. He wasn't allowed to feel this way, not now, not ever. He forced his body to shift, to stand taller, to reclaim the cold, calculated distance he'd always worn as armor.

"Should I wait outside, boss?" Oliver's voice carried an uncertain edge, his eyes flicking between Sebastian and Kaya.

Sebastian stepped back, leaving Kaya to steady herself. His retreat felt like tearing himself apart, but he forced his legs to move, his expression hardening as he walked to his chair. "No need, Oliver. Come in," he said, his tone clipped, his voice devoid of the vulnerability it had held moments ago.

Oliver hesitated before stepping fully into the room. Kaya glanced at Sebastian, her face unreadable, before muttering a quick excuse about needing to use the bathroom. She left the room without another word.

Sebastian exhaled, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back in his chair. He felt exposed, like an open wound, and he hated it. He reached for the file Oliver handed him, using it as a shield to distract himself.

Oliver cleared his throat after delivering his report. "Jade's still recovering, but she's stable for now. I've also found new leads on your father's archives and LIRA-IN, but it'll take some time to decrypt the data fully."

Sebastian nodded, flipping through the pages without really reading them. His mind was elsewhere—on Kaya, on the kiss, on the reckless surge of emotions he couldn't afford to feel.

"So..." Oliver said hesitantly, his voice low. "What happened earlier? Why leave her hanging like that?"

Sebastian froze, his grip tightening on the file. For a moment, his mask slipped, his eyes darkening with unspoken turmoil. But he quickly schooled his expression, his voice sharp and dismissive. "Nothing happened. There's nothing between us."

Oliver raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but he let the topic drop. "Anything else you need me to handle?"

Sebastian placed the file down, his gaze piercing as he fixed on Oliver. He hesitated, the weight of his next words pressing heavily on his chest. "I need you to keep an eye on Kaya. From now on, you're her bodyguard."

Oliver blinked, caught off guard. "Babysitting duty? Seriously?"

"This isn't a request, Oliver," Sebastian replied, his tone cool, deliberate. "It's a necessity."

Oliver sighed, throwing up his hands in mock defeat. "Fine. But if she punches me for hovering, you're paying for my dental."

Sebastian's lips twitched—a faint, almost imperceptible hint of amusement—but it disappeared as quickly as it came. He watched Oliver leave, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving the room heavy with silence.

His jaw tightened, and he leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. He needed distance.

"You fool," he muttered under his breath, his voice breaking. "You don't deserve this. You don't deserve her."

The truth gnawed at him, sharp and unrelenting. Once Jade could testify—once the mystery was unraveled and this tangled web of lies fell apart—this scene, this illusion of closeness, would end. And he would be left with nothing but the cold reality he'd always known.

Because even if he wanted to fight for her, to prove himself worthy of her, the truth remained. This wasn't real. It never had been. Whatever spark flickered between them wasn't enough to rewrite the rules of his life. Kaya deserved more. More than his broken promises. More than the cage he would inevitably trap her in.

Sebastian ran a hand through his hair, the weight of his choices bearing down on him. Somewhere along the way, he'd let himself forget. Forget that this was temporary, that all of this was a cruel dream masquerading as something real.

His chest tightened, the weight unbearable as he pushed himself upright. He grabbed the whiskey decanter from his desk, pouring a shot he didn't drink, his hand gripping the glass so tightly it threatened to shatter.

It was time to wake up.

Destiny, it seemed, had one certainty for him: solitude. And the sooner he accepted it, the easier it would be to face what came next.

He whispered, to the air, to no one, "I was never meant to keep her." Reality had never been kind to him. He'd learned long ago not to expect more.

To be Continued.