Chapter 29

[ 951 words ]

Emilia’s POV

We went down the stairs together, and that’s when I heard them.

Tiffany’s excited chatter. “Mom, our trick worked out!”

“I know!” Mila’s voice was equally gleeful. “If I’d known it was this effective, I would’ve used it weeks ago.”

“Timing is everything, Mom. It only works now because it’s Emilia. I honestly think she’s the only one who can handle my brother.”

“You’re absolutely right. They must be fated mates…”

My face flushed a little when I heard their words.

Are they seriously gossiping about us to our faces right now?

I shot a sideways glance at Sebastian. His expression looked like he’d just buried a body and was mentally reviewing his alibi.

The moment we reached the dining table, their conversation immediately stopped.

Mila reached for my hand, her touch gentle and warm. “Emilia, sweetheart, I heard you weren’t feeling well earlier. Are you alright now?”

“I’m much better, Mom. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“As long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters.” She squeezed my hand, then gestured toward the servants. “Let’s eat. You must be starving.”

One of the servants materialized from the kitchen, carrying a bowl of steaming soup that I’d come to recognize all too well. The rich, herbal aroma hit my nose before she even set it down in front of me.

I picked up my spoon without complaint. After days of this routine, I’d learned to just drink the soup.

“Make sure it’s hot when you drink it,” Mila reminded me as I brought the spoon to my lips.

“Okay.” I sipped carefully, the warmth spreading through my chest.

Then Mila dropped the bomb.

“You need to finish the entire bowl this time, dear. Yesterday you only drank a third of it. At this rate, when will I ever get a grandchild?”

The soup went down the wrong pipe.

I choked violently, my lungs burning as I struggled to breathe. The coughing fit was so intense that tears sprang to my eyes. Tiffany and Mila immediately jumped up, patting my back frantically.

“Emilia! Are you okay? Can you breathe?”

Sebastian, sitting right next to me, didn’t move a muscle. He continued cutting his steak, as if I weren’t literally dying beside him. The bastard looked like he’d happily watch me choke to death and then ask someone to dig a grave.

“Mom…” I finally managed to gasp out between coughs, my voice hoarse. “What… what is this soup?”

“Oh, it’s a special fertility tonic!” Mila beamed at me. “It’s an ancient recipe that increases the chances of conception. If you drink it consistently for a month, you’ll definitely be pregnant by next month!”

I stared down at the innocent-looking soup, then back at Mila’s hopeful, glowing face.

We haven’t even… I mean, nothing has happened. How the hell am I supposed to get pregnant from soup alone? Unless this is some kind of werewolf magic fertility potion, in which case I’m in serious trouble.

I reached under the table and pinched Sebastian’s thigh hard, digging my nails in through his expensive pants.

Say something, you asshole. Explain to your mother that this is impossible.

He stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor.

“I’m done eating.” His voice was emotionless.

And just like that, he walked away. Just… walked away. As if this entire conversation had nothing to do with him. As if his mother wasn’t expecting us to produce an heir through supernatural soup and sheer willpower.

I sat there, frozen, my fingers still curved from pinching him.

The words were right there on the tip of my tongue: We’re not actually sleeping together. There’s no way I can get pregnant.

But then I looked at Mila and Titus. The hope shining in their eyes was so pure, so genuine. Mila was practically glowing with anticipation, already imagining her future grandchild.

How could I shatter that hope?

I swallowed the confession and forced a smile.

“Mom, Dad, Tiffany… please enjoy your meal. I’m finished too.”

I stood carefully, nodding respectfully and waiting for their acknowledgment before fleeing the table like a coward.

My heart was still pounding when I burst through the bedroom door.

The sight that greeted me made me freeze mid-step.

Oh my God.

Sebastian stood in the middle of the room, half-naked.

His back was to me, and I got a full view of his broad shoulders tapering down to a trim waist. Muscles rippled beneath tanned skin as he reached for something on the bed. He was wearing nothing but tight black boxer briefs that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, and they clung to him like a second skin, emphasizing… everything.

The fabric stretched across his ass, defining every muscle.

I’d always known Sebastian was built, but seeing him like this was different.

“Aaah!” I yelped, spinning around so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash. My face was on fire, heat spreading from my cheeks down my neck.

Sebastian’s dark chuckle made my skin prickle.

“Didn’t you try to seduce me before? You look terrified for someone who was so eager.”

Don’t turn around. Do NOT turn around.

“I’m not scared,” I managed to squeak out, still facing the door. “But you could’ve gotten dressed in the bathroom! What if it had been your mom who walked in? Or Tiffany? Or one of the female servants?”

“You’re the only one rude enough to barge into my room without knocking.”

Fair point, but still.

“Well, you should keep all… that…” I gestured vaguely behind me, still refusing to turn around, “to yourself. We’re not really husband and wife…”

“Oh? So you’re blaming me for not making love to you? Is that what this is about?”

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