Chapter 12 The Confrontation

The city lights seem to be mocking me. The penthouse had become the scavenging ground of all use about an hour ago; now it feels like a prison. In that silence, he was more than just a still picture; every hammering word was the sound of Sebastian's glares and his calm yet explosively furious exclamations shaking free the dissolving fragments of my carefully ordered facade. I had, truly, put him under the worst appraisal. They say not to bet against your enemies, but stupid me, thinking I was the one calling the shots, pulling the strings of his empire, while he was the one pulling all along, and here I was, being his ignorant pawn in this whole thing. He cut farther into the distance between us; the silence was heavy upon us. His lids, what I've always likened to molten gold, were now icy with the sharpness of his anger. But that very same anger terrified me-through the caress of his fingertips sliding most delicately across my cheek. The current of our encountered skin flowed through my veins, awakening the bittersweet memories of our storm-tossed affair.