Chapter One

Sebastian

My gut has never been wrong.

I know instantly that something isn't right the moment I walk into Sunshine Cafè. Maybe it's the half-lit interior or the tension that hangs heavily in the air, but I suddenly feel my hackles rising as an unsettling chill creeps down my spine.

I close the door slowly behind me, casting a quick glance around. The whole place is empty except for a tall man in dark clothes, standing by the counter and the owner, Amelia Farrell. I've seen enough pictures of her on the internet and splashed on the front covers of business magazines to recognize her right away.

Her expression is unreadable in the dim lighting of the room, but there's something about the rigidity of her pose that suggests trouble. Her gaze meets mine briefly, her striking gray eyes flashing with a desperate urgency – a warning.

There's definitely trouble.

The guy seems to catch her subtle message because he turns around swiftly. As he moves, I see a gun glinting in his right hand.

Reacting on instinct, I shift my weight, deflecting the imminent threat with a swift, practiced move. The metallic clang resonates through the room as the gun clatters to the floor. Before he can react, I swiftly restrain his arms, tackling him to the ground and rendering him immobile. As I hold him in a firm grip, I glance up at Amelia to see she's already on the phone, calmly calling out the address to the 911 operator.

The assailant has stopped struggling, glumly accepting defeat. "Fuck you. Fuck you," he keeps mumbling. He's a kid, probably late teens.

The cops arrive some minutes later: a tall dark man and a female officer with pleasant features. The man cuffs the assailant and takes him out while the woman stays back to take our statement.

After the cops leave, an awkward silence settles momentarily in the room. Amelia Farrell walks around the counter and suddenly, I'm struck by how stunning she is in real life. The photos I've seen never captured the richness of her dark locks or the clever twinkle in her eye.

"Thank you so much, mister…?" She lets her voice trail off, her brows slightly arched.

"Seb," I reply. "Just Seb."

She nods and holds out her hand. "I'm Amelia."

"Amelia," I repeat, testing the name on my tongue as I clasp her hand in mine.

"Thank you so much for earlier," she says, slipping her hand out of mine with a cautiously pleasant smile. "I can't imagine what would have happened if you hadn't intervened."

"I'm just glad you're safe."

Of course, I didn't expect the night to go like this. I came here for a different reason; I was supposed to be in and out swiftly, a deal in place. I'm not supposed to be familiarizing myself with this woman who stands in the way of my business, but for some reason, I want to prolong this peace… Because the moment she learns of my real intent, I won't be at the receiving end of her warm, enchanting smile.

"I was closing up when he came, but I can fix you something real quick. Please, have a seat," she says, gesturing to a nearby table.

She has a nice voice, soothing and melodic. Makes me want to keep her talking.

"No, it's fine," I reply, shaking my head at her. "You should head home now. Are you driving?"

"My car is at the mechanic's," she says with a soft sigh. "I'll call a cab."

"My car is parked outside; I can give you a ride home if you don't mind."

What the hell are you doing, Sebastian?!

She hesitates, searching my face as if that'll give her a clue to my thoughts. For a moment, I think she's going to deny the offer, but then she smiles at me and nods. "Thank you very much. I'll just get my handbag and we can head out."

Once outside, I wait for her to lock up and we walk together to where my car is parked just by the sidewalk. I open the passenger side door and gesture for her to get in. She glances at me with a pleasantly surprised expression before sliding into the seat. I wait for her to settle in, close the door gently, and walk around to the driver's side.

"Where to, ma'am?" I ask after starting the ignition.

She calls out her address and then leans into the seat, closing her eyes with a deep sigh. The first few minutes of the ride pass in silence with me glancing occasionally at her. I sense she's trying to process the events of the day. Now that she's settled, the gravity of the danger she was in must be dawning on her. Despite her amazing composure, she must have been scared, being robbed at gunpoint.

"This is a nice ride," she finally says, breaking the long silence. "What do you do, Mr. Seb?"

"I'm an artist," I reply without thinking.

It's not totally a lie. Painting is a hobby, one that might have grown into a career if Dave hadn't died and passed the mantle to me.

"You must be a pretty big deal to be able to afford such a pricey car," she says, her expression unreadable.

"Family wealth," I reply, staring straight at the road ahead.

"I see," she murmurs simply.

I glance at her, wondering if it was disappointment I heard in her voice. From what I've learned about her, she was also born into a wealthy family, and although she created a path for herself in the corporate world, surely she profited from her family's affluence. Right?

"Does that happen often around there?" I ask, breaking the silence this time. "Robbery."

"Not quite as often as you'd think, considering it's a commercial area with lots of small businesses," she replies with a shrug. "That boy back there… I guess he's a college student. He must have desperately needed the money to pay bills."

"Are you making excuses for a thief?" I ask, turning to look at her. "He could have hurt you. Worse still…" I let my words trail off, unable to complete the thought.

Anger coils within me like a snake, raring to strike. I met her just minutes ago; why do I feel like going back and punching that kid to oblivion?

It's probably because her death would stand in the way of my business. Yeah, that's it.

"I'm not making excuses," she says quietly, her voice washing over my anger like a gentle, soothing wave. "I just pity him," she continues. "He's so young and I wish he made a better choice, that's it."

I glance at her, a little smile tugging at my lips. She seems worlds different from the flashy, over-glossed pictures of her that I've seen… more down to earth. Absolutely gorgeous. Most articles about her focus more on her looks and fashion sense, and that made me assume she'd be as superficial as the rest of the business world celebrities, but she surprised me. A few minutes with her and I can already tell that she's so much more than the world perceives her to be.

"Are you the quiet type, Mr. Sebastian?"

"Just Seb."

"Just Seb," she repeats, her beautiful eyes twinkling mischievously.

I chuckle, unsurprised by her humor. For some reason, it's expected.

"I've never been one to fill silences," I reply simply.

"Quite philosophical," she says with a light laugh.

"Is that a good thing?"

"It's not a bad thing."

I chuckle, shaking my head at her. I glance at her again, taking in her smiling face, and it dawns on me that I've laughed more in ten minutes than I have the whole year.

You're beautiful.

The words are on the tip of my lips. I almost blurt them out before she says, "We're here."

I suddenly feel a deep sense of loss as I pull into her apartment building's parking lot. She turns in her seat to smile at me.

"Thank you so much for tonight, Seb," she says. "You're very kind."

Kind. I can think of a hundred words that's been used to describe me over the years, and kind isn't one of them. Quite the opposite .

Without responding, I get out of the car and walk around to her side. I open the door and she steps out with that grace that I'm beginning to associate with her.

"Thanks," she says again.

I nod curtly as I push the door close. She looks up, and our gazes clash and hold. Awareness flickers in her eyes, a subconscious acknowledgment of the simmering attraction between us.

Before I can say anything, she steps away from me, her lips curling in that bright, shallow smile that I recognize from magazine covers.

"Goodnight, Seb," she says as she walks away.

"Amelia," I call after she's only walked a few steps.

She stops, only turning halfway to look at me with a curious frown. "Yes?"

I close the distance between us and hold out my hand to her. "Give me your phone."

She blinks in surprise, her frown deepening slightly as she searches my face. Then she reaches into her bag to take out her phone and hand it over to me. I punch in my personal contact number and give it back to her.

"Call me if anything happens."

She nods, the corner of her mouth tilting in a soft, genuine smile. "Thanks, Seb."

I watch her go and wait until the lights in her apartment go off.