Without shaking my hand, Amara brushed past us, radiating hostility as she made her way inside.
“What’s her story?” I asked Sawyer, puzzled by the interaction.
Beta Sawyer sighed. “She’s the daughter of our pack’s former Beta. Her mother and Luna Regina-Alpha Sebastian’s mother-are close friends. She practically grew up in the Black household and has a… complicated relationship with the Alpha. It’s a love-hate dynamic.”
“Ah, I understand now,” I said, realization dawning.
So that explained why Sebastian had chosen Singapore as his first destination-someone was waiting for him here.
Celina
The yacht had just set sail, its engines humming softly beneath our feet as Beta Sawyer and I made our way back up to the deck. The evening air was cool, carrying the faint scent of salt and seaweed, a stark contrast to the tension simmering inside the cabin below.
Inside, Sebastian was the undeniable center of attention. He handled the admiration and flattery with a natural ease, his occasional subtle smiles suggesting he was unfazed by Amara’s presence nearby. Keith had clearly mastered the art of creating opportunities for his granddaughter, and Vivian… well, Vivian was nothing if not persistent.
She moved with a practiced grace, her every step choreographed to stay just within Sebastian’s reach. Always ready with a comment-whether about his drink, the glint of his cufflinks, or the breathtaking view outside-her interest was disguised as casual conversation, but the underlying intent was unmistakable.
You didn’t need to be a mind reader to understand what she wanted. It was written plainly in the way her eyes lingered on Sebastian-too long, too often, with a hunger that was impossible to miss.
Sebastian kept his demeanor polite, neither cold nor overly warm, maintaining a careful distance. Amara stood quietly beside him, her expression composed on the surface, but the forced smile she wore barely masked the pain beneath. It was heartbreaking to witness.
As a woman, I could sense the bitterness lurking just below her calm exterior. My gaze flicked between the three of them, analyzing their subtle interactions like a neighborhood gossip, each gesture and glance telling a story.
Then, suddenly, Sebastian’s eyes met mine. I froze, holding my breath. It was too late to look away-he had caught me watching with undisguised interest. His eyes narrowed slightly, as if he could read every thought racing through my mind.
“Sawyer, would it be alright if I took a walk up front?” I asked, turning away nervously, my voice barely above a whisper.
“No problem at all. I’ll keep an eye on things here,” Beta Sawyer replied without hesitation.
“Thanks. Call me if anything happens.”
With that, I slipped away, my heels clicking softly on the polished deck as I felt a rush of relief wash over me, as if I’d just narrowly avoided a dangerous encounter.
–
Claime
I found a quiet corner at the bow of the yacht, where two empty chairs awaited beneath the starry sky. The gentle rocking of the boat and the rhythmic sound of waves lapping against the hull created a soothing backdrop. In the distance, city lights twinkled like scattered gold dust, blurred slightly by the evening haze.
For the first time in what felt like ages, I allowed myself to relax completely-body and mind both unburdened.
After soaking in the cool sea breeze for a while, I reached into my bag and pulled out an old phone from a hidden compartment. Since arriving in Singapore, I had switched to a new phone and number for work, keeping this one off. Now, powering it on, I was greeted by over a hundred missed calls.
Calls from unknown numbers, my parents, Harlow, friends, former colleagues, even business contacts-all desperate to reach me.
Opening WhatsApp, I saw multiple messages from Harlow. The earliest warned: “Don’t answer. Don’t respond. Don’t believe anything-it’s all Xavien!”
An hour later, another message: “Celina, where are you?”
My parents’ messages were even more heart-wrenching: “Where have you gone? Please come back!”
Even Yvonne had sent texts: “Where are you?”
It took me a long time to read through all the messages, as if everyone I cared about was frantically searching for me. Xavien, you monster!
I sighed deeply, exhaustion weighing on me.
Exiting WhatsApp, I scrolled through countless texts and voice messages. They started calm, simply asking where I was, but gradually became more agitated, angry, even desperate. The most recent voice message had been sent just five minutes ago.
His voice was raw and broken, thick with sobs.
“Babe, I was wrong. I know I messed up. I’m a bastard, I deserve everything… I’m so sorry. Please give me one more chance. Punish me however you want-take my life if you need to. Take all the time you need. I’ll wait for you at home. I only made one mistake. You can’t… you can’t sentence me to death like this…”
I quickly switched off the phone again, as if prolonging the moment would allow that pitiful, broken man to pull me back into a dark, endless void.
Even though Xavien wasn’t my true mate, we had shared eight years. The connection wasn’t forged by the Moon Goddess, but it had been real.
I sat there for what felt like forever until Beta Sawyer’s call pulled me back. He asked me to come to the yacht’s second level.
–
The second level was a haven of entertainment. A swimming pool shimmered under soft lights, while a karaoke room, home theater, card room, and even an indoor golf course promised endless amusement. It was a space designed purely for leisure and indulgence.
Beta Sawyer informed me they were playing Texas Hold’em poker in the card room. I smiled knowingly-wealthy businessmen always had a fondness for their high-stakes games.
We found seats and helped ourselves to some sweets, the atmosphere thick with cigar smoke and quiet murmurs.
About an hour later, Sebastian summoned us. Beta Sawyer and I hurried to the card room.
Inside, the air was dense with the scent of tobacco and expensive liquor. Men in tailored suits sat around an oval table, some wearing smug smiles from winning, others scowling at their losses. Piles of chips cluttered the table, a glamorous dealer shuffled and dealt, and waiters circulated with trays of red wine, champagne, and cigars.
With calls of “I’m in” and “I fold,” they embodied a world of decadence and power.
Sebastian, however, wasn’t smoking. A glass of champagne rested untouched beside him, and he seemed detached from the indulgence around him, his calm presence almost otherworldly.
His chips told the story-he was winning hands and gaining ground steadily.
Amara sat beside him, her head supported by one hand, eyes glazed and unfocused, clearly drunk.
“Help Ms. Amara outside. She’s had too much,” Sebastian ordered quietly but firmly.
Beta Sawyer and I stepped forward to assist.
“I’m fine,” Amara snapped, brushing our hands away.
We tried again, but she resisted, pushing us off.
“Ms. Amara…” Beta Sawyer hesitated, unsure how to proceed without overstepping.
Thinking it might be easier coming from another woman, I slipped my arm around her waist to steady her.
“Where do you think you’re touching?!” she snapped, as if I’d crossed some invisible line.
Suddenly, she shoved me violently. I stumbled but was caught by Beta Sawyer behind me.
Her reaction startled me deeply. Everyone in the room turned to look.
Sebastian’s expression hardened. Rising, he personally helped Amara from her chair and tossed back, “Take over for me.”
“Of course,” I replied, doing my best to keep my voice steady.
I wasn’t even sure if he was addressing me or Beta Sawyer, but when Sawyer remained silent, I took the cue.
Sebastian escorted Amara out of the room.
Beta Sawyer glanced at me with concern, clearly thinking this situation was beyond my experience and that he should handle it.
Before he could say a word, I had already settled into my seat.
I glanced at my hole cards, then the community cards laid out on the table.
Playing it safe by folding every hand would prevent losses, but I was representing Sebastian now-constant folding would only harm his reputation.
Guaranteeing wins was impossible, but I quickly formulated a plan.
On the surface, I remained calm and collected, projecting the image of a seasoned player. For the first half hour, I played cautiously-checking, folding, calling, only raising modestly when I had a good hand. My approach was deliberately understated.
As the game progressed, I grew bolder, placing larger bets. After winning several hands, my confidence swelled. When I glimpsed the potential for a royal flush, the temptation to go all-in nearly overwhelmed me.
Behind me, Beta Sawyer emitted a strangled noise-somewhere between a cough and a groan.
I didn’t even turn around.
I could almost feel the panic radiating off him.
“Celina,” he said, voice tight, “why don’t you check on the Alpha? I’ll take over here.”
“No-” I began, fingers tightening around my chips. I wasn’t ready to leave yet.
“No arguments,” he interrupted, his smile stretched thin, almost snapping. “Just go.”
Reluctantly, I stood, casting one last, longing glance at my cards.
As I walked away, I could feel the hungry gazes of several wealthy men following me. Just a pretty secretary, they probably thought.
I smiled faintly to myself and stepped out of the card room.
Following Sawyer’s advice, I couldn’t help but feel a small thrill-Sebastian was alone with Amara now. Only a fool would interrupt them at this moment.
Of course, I knew this was just Sawyer’s excuse.
I grabbed a bottle of water and made my way toward the stairs leading to the third level, feeling lightheaded and desperate for fresh air.
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