The CEO’s Second Choice

Elena

Sebastian did not come home that night, I know because I stayed up all night reading the set of books he got me. I know that he didn’t take the Phantom because I heard the Bugatti start up and speed away, but not return and I stayed up until 2 am reading.

Something which I deeply regret now as I realise the designer from Dior would be here at 9 am. I drag myself out of bed to have a cold shower that would wake me up. Ugh, I never learn from staying up so late to read; I always regret it the next day.

After my shower, Ilse informed me that the designer had arrived and showed her into my room. A beautiful, petite blonde woman with the face of a pixie enters and introduces herself, “Mrs Dumont, lovely to meet you, Meghan Black.” She says with an American accent. I offer her a smile and shake her hand, “Please call me Elena,” I say and she nods then immediately dives into the aspects of the dress. She takes my measurements and listens to my likes and dislikes and what I am comfortable with wearing.

Three hours later we have the design of a dress ready; It would be a rose gold ballgown with a sweetheart neckline that did not show too much cleavage. Since it was winter, we decided on a long-sleeved shawl/bolero with a flared sleeve that ended just below my elbow and had a Queen Anne neckline.

“I can’t wait to see you bring this to life, Meghan!” I exclaim as I see her out of the villa. She turns around to give me a hug, “You will wear it beautifully. I’ll come to deliver it myself on Friday morning. See you then, Elena.” She says as she leaves.

I did not expect the time to fly so quickly as we worked on the ballgown, and now I was starving. I walk towards the kitchen area and the smell assaults my senses; Ilse was busy cooking a lovely meal for lunch, and I could not wait to sample it. “Hmm, Ilse, that smells divine!” I comment as I saunter into the kitchen.

She turns to see me and smiles, “I assume you worked up an appetite with that small lady?” She asks me, referring to Meghan. I giggle at this, “Oh, definitely. I could just about slaughter a good meal right now.”

“That makes two of us,” I hear behind me and my heart starts thumping faster. I turn around in my stool at the breakfast nook and see Sebastian as he strides into the kitchen, fully dressed in a suit. It did not look like he changed since yesterday and it affirmed my suspicions; he did not come home last night.

“Welcome home, Mr Dumont,” Ilse says in her singsong voice and Sebastian returns her greeting as he takes a seat next to me. He turns his head towards me and smiles, “Good morning, Elena,” he says and I could still smell the whiskey on his breath.

“Good morning. Late night?” I ask as sarcasm drips from my question, and I hear him chuckle. “Very late. I might just decide to sleep in a bit this afternoon to remove the stiffness from my body.” He says, winking at me and I feel a bout of nausea washing over my stomach. I stood up from my seat, “Excuse me, Ilse, but I have suddenly lost my appetite.” I say and walk out of the kitchen.

We have not gone back to how we used to be at all, Sebastian was never like this. Before, he would ignore my presence completely and not make idle chit chat to gauge my jealousy. I run up the stairs but feel myself being pulled back by my wrist just as I reach the landing. Sebastian pulls me towards him, “What is your problem, Elena? I thought you wanted us to go back to how we were before, and that is what I’m doing.” He says as he grips my wrist tightly. I shake my head and look at him, “No, Sebastian. You used to be cold and aloof towards me. Now you are simply cruel.” I tell him as I try to snatch my wrist back.This text is © NôvelDrama/.Org.

“Cruel? Do you want to know what cruelty is, Elena?” He starts as he walks towards me and my back hits the wall. My heart beats faster as he pins me with that stare of his that I can’t escape, “Cruelty is wanting to offer someone the world only for them to spit in your face. Cruelty is meeting the most amazing woman at a ball and forging an instant connection with them, only to find out they gave you the wrong name and you end up trapped in a loveless relationship for years because of duty.” He has me up against the wall now, and he cups my face in his hand, “Cruelty is slowly falling in love with that woman, only for her to choose her freedom over the love you would have offered.” He says as he runs his thumb over my bottom lip.

I am rendered speechless by this admission; Sebastian just admitted he was falling in love with me, something I had been fighting against all this time. This wasn’t fair, why couldn’t he keep his big mouth shut! Does he not know this changes everything?!

A tear drops out of the corner of my eye as I take in his words, “That was you,” I say, referring to the masquerade ball mix up. I still wasn’t certain after all this time, and now he had admitted it.

He nods, “It was, but it makes no difference now. My heart is closed to you from this day forward, Elena. I’d much rather be the billionaire playboy and chauvinist I am made out to be than be left wracked with this feeling of rejection any longer.” He says and steps away from me, turning on his heel and heading to his bedroom.

I remain where I am, shocked at what had just transpired. How do I move forward from this? I feel a wave of burning anger in my chest and race to his bedroom. I will not allow him to get away with making me feel like this! I burst through his door without knocking and see his startled expression while he takes off his shirt.

“How dare you!” I cry out as I walk towards him and shove him hard, “How dare you tell me these things now when you know I cannot feel anything for you! You were the one who did not have the backbone to tell my family that you chose the wrong twin, so don’t you dare blame your unhappy years with my sister on me!” I exclaim as angry tears stream down my face and I shove him once more.

“You cannot tell me you have fallen in love with me and expect me to move on after that, Sebastian! Why could you not just have stayed silent?!” Sebastian regards me with a burning anger of his own and grabs my wrists after I shove him again, “So the bratty heiress finally speaks her truth,” he says as he pulls me closer to his chest, gripping my wrists tightly.

I rolled my eyes at him, “I have always spoken my truth, you just never cared to listen.” I tell him and see the growing mischievous fox grin on his face and he cocks his head to the side. Why was he smiling like that?

“What did I say about rolling your eyes at me, petite pâquerette?”