Cecilia’s pov
I tried to breathe normally as Sebastian guided me through the expansive grounds of the Black estate.
The backyard was straight out of a luxury magazine. The lawns were perfectly trimmed, the artificial lake reflected the sunset, and the flowerbeds stretched as far as I could see.
It was the kind of place where everything looked perfect on the surface, but you just knew there were secrets buried under all that beauty.
Luna Regina had said she was "personally preparing" dinner, which probably meant standing near the kitchen and butting in with unsolicited opinions.
She approached us, her eyes immediately dropping to my feet.
"Cece, what happened? Did you twist your ankle?" Her perfectly arched brows pulled together in concern.
I opened my mouth to brush it off with a laugh, but Sebastian spoke first. His voice was smooth, but final.
"She shouldn’t be wearing heels right now."
His tone shut down the conversation instantly, like a door slamming shut.
Luna Regina blinked, clearly surprised. "Are you sick, dear?"
Sebastian didn’t answer.
Instead, he guided me to a chair with his hand on my lower back.
The touch was steady, almost possessive, like he was silently claiming responsibility for me. Or control. Maybe both.
Luna Regina turned to Zaria, pulling her aside. "What’s going on?"
I could still hear them.
Zaria sounded genuinely confused. "I have no idea."
Then came the next wave.
"Harper, Yvonne, do you know what’s happening?" Luna Regina asked quietly.
They both shook their heads.
Their expressions were polite, but it was clear they sensed something wasn’t right.
I caught fragments of their conversation, whispering just out of reach.
The heat rose in my chest. The pressure. The questions.
The way everyone was watching me. It was all too much.
Sebastian handed me a glass of water. I took it but didn’t drink.
Instead, I looked up suddenly and locked eyes with him.
"This is between us, right?" I asked, my voice tight.
He tilted his head, his eyes glittering with something unreadable.
"I thought Cece was the lone wolf," he said softly. "Since when are we a ’we’?"
The words stung more than they should have.
He always knew how to twist the knife without raising his voice.
I reached for his hand and lowered my voice to a whisper. It came out more desperate than I’d meant.
"Can we skip dinner and just talk? Somewhere private?"
Sebastian pulled his hand back. Calm. Controlled.
"Running out on a meal won’t fix anything."
He said it like we were discussing a business deal. Like my panic was a logistics error.
Frustration bubbled up fast.
"You think I can just sit there and eat like everything’s fine? You’re not the one dealing with the consequences."
My voice cracked at the end. I hated that. I sounded raw. Exposed.
"And don’t act like this is all on me. You were the one who pushed for it. I didn’t exactly sign up for this."His face stayed calm, maybe too calm. If anything, he looked slightly amused. "As I remember, you didn’t resist."
I clenched my fists under the table. I couldn’t believe he was doing this now, in front of everyone.
"Only because you made it feel like it was safe!"The words came out louder than I intended.
Several heads turned. Heat rushed up my neck.
Regret hit fast, but I couldn’t take it back.
--
The sun was setting as Sebastian and I moved away from the group to a quieter part of the garden.
The air smelled like lavender and grilled meat, but I barely noticed. My head was still spinning from our conversation.
After a heated back-and-forth, we reached a compromise: he agreed not to say anything, and I promised we’d talk properly after dinner.
Just when I thought I was in the clear, Zaria reached across the table, speared a spicy grilled sausage, and dropped it onto my plate.
The smoky, peppery scent hit me instantly. It was rich, greasy, and way too strong.
My stomach flipped so hard it felt like someone had pulled the table out from under me.
"Th-thank you..." I said, grabbing my juice quickly and taking a long sip, trying to settle the nausea.
I started picking at the casing, stalling.
When I finally cut off a small piece, Sebastian reached over and took it off my plate.
"I’ll take that," he said casually.
"You shouldn’t eat anything spicy if you’re still sick."
"Right," I said, nodding. "Spice and colds don’t mix."
Relief swept through me like a breeze.
One crisis avoided. For now.
Then came the final course.
Perfectly grilled Colorado lamb chops, glistening with rosemary and garlic.
The smell was thick and savory, cutting through the air like it owned the place.
My body reacted before I could stop it. My face went pale. My stomach clenched like it was rejecting the entire evening.
I shut my eyes for a second.
Breathe. Just breathe.
I opened them again, forcing a smile.
"I’m so sorry," I said, standing up slowly.
"I’m really not feeling well. The cold, plus my stomach... I need to lie down for a bit. Please, keep eating."
The room fell still. Conversations died mid-sentence, replaced by uneasy glances and flickers of concern across every face.
Then Sebastian stood up. His chair scraped against the stone patio.
"I’ll go with her."

Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Abandoned Luna Now Untouchable (Cecilia)
Loving the story. But only 2 pages a day. 😢...