His Plump Mate (Book 1: The 'His' Series) novel Chapter 191

Author’s pov

Outside, the summer sun blazed without mercy, making the air shimmer over the asphalt.

Inside the car, even the A/C couldn’t cool the heat simmering beneath Sebastian’s gaze.

Across from him, Cecilia’s heartbeat quickened, her cheeks flushing a soft pink under the weight of his eyes.

Sebastian’s lips curved into an unapologetic smile–equal parts charming and dangerous.

He leaned over and gave her cheek a light, teasing pinch.

“Fine, fine. No eating anyone alive in broad daylight,” he said with a lazy grin. “But I’m still hungry–for food, of course.”

With that, he turned his attention back to the road, pulling smoothly into traffic.

A few minutes later, they passed a sleek Thai restaurant with minimalist décor, visible through tall glass windows–urban, modern, and totally Instagrammable.

“How about that place?” Cecilia asked, pointing. “Thai food’s light enough for this brutal heat.”

“Perfect,” Sebastian replied, sliding into a nearby parking space like he owned the block.

They got out and crossed the sidewalk, taking their time, the air between them crackling with an energy that had little to do with the temperature.

Across the street, a white sedan sat there, its engine humming quietly.

Inside, Amara sat stiff as a board, her posture as rigid as her jaw.

She’d been following them since they left the office, losing them briefly in traffic before spotting Sebastian’s ridiculously flashy car again. Sleek. Black. Absurdly expensive. Of course.

Her eyes narrowed as she watched the pair walk casually into the restaurant–no briefcase, no conference calls, no associates.

Just the two of them, strotling shoulder to shoulder, like a couple:

She gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles went white.

So this was the “business meeting”? A lunch date with the woman who didn’t know her place.

She grabbed her phone, took a few shots through the windshield, and began typing with vicious intent.

Godmother,

Sebastian’s ditching work again. He claimed a business meeting, but he’s at a restaurant with Cecilia Moore. Alone.

Mies away, Luna Regina read the message with a deepening frown.

Back at the restaurant, Cecilia had no clue about the drama brewing across the street.

To her, it was simply a hot summer day, and a nice lunch.

She had no idea that the moment she stepped through those doors, someone had already begun cooking up the next chapter of office gossip.

Cecilia’s pov

Something in the air made me pause–an instinct, maybe.

A shiver without a réason.

But I was too distracted by the man sitting across from me–all white

Linen, rolled-up sleeves.

Sebastian had already ordered several dishes without even glancing at the menu.

He handled it the way he did everything else: like the world had been pre-programmed to accommodate him.

Smooth. Efficient. Unbothered.

“It’s twelve forty-five,” I said, checking my watch.

“You’ve got maybe thirty minutes to eat before we need to head back, You have that board meeting this afternoon.”

Sebastian smirked. “Cece, I already told you–l don’t bite. You don’t have to be so nervous.”

Which, of course, was exactly what someone who absolutely bites would say.

Despite his words, he got up and slid into the seat beside me.

I glanced at him, my heartbeat ticking up a notch, tongue darting out to wet my lips without conscious thought.

I placed the soup in front of him. “Here. It’s a bit stuffy–I’ll open a window.”

The window creaked open easily, a warm southern breeze slipping in, carrying the scent of sunbaked streets and magnolia trees.

When I turned back, my path was blocked.

Sebastian stood there, arms braced on either side of the windowsill, effectively caging me in.

He wasn’t touching me, but it felt like he was everywhere.

“Cece,” he murmured, voice low enough to melt steel, “did you slip I something in my soup?”

His eyes burned. “I only took one sip, but I’m feeling incredibly… hot.”

He leaned in, lips brushing mine. “I really want to kiss you.” A shiver shot straight through me.

I swallowed hard, and with the kind of reckless courage that only comes from knowing we were alone, I rose on tiptoe and pressed my Lips to his.

Like striking a match in a dry forest, the spark exploded.

His arm wrapped around my waist, yanking me against him.

His mouth slanted over mine, claiming, coaxing, devouring.

Outside, sunlight blazed, cicadas screamed.

Sebastian, clearly at the end of his rope, grabbed my hand to leave.

“No, you can’t go!” Amara lunged forward, arms outstretched.

Sebastian dodged her like a pro, but she pivoted–straight toward me.

And unlike Sebastian, I wasn’t fast enough to avoid impact.

Suddenly, I found myself trapped in a tear-drenched, snot-slicked embrace, her mascara-streaked face smearing a Monet-level tragedy all over my dress and freshly blow-dried hair.

Help. Why was I in this rom-com horror scene?

And this dress? Basically a month’s paycheck.

“Let her go!” Sebastian snapped, his voice low and dangerous, patience officially out of stock.

But I could see the dilemma etched into his face–he wouldn’t manhandle a crying woman, not even a deranged one.

When he tried to gently pull her arm away, she yelped like he’d dislocated her shoulder, and he immediately let go.

That’s when it hit me

My Alpha boyfriend had a fatal flaw–he was completely powerless against weaponized tears.

Despite the absurdity of it all, I couldn’t stop myself–laughed.

The sound made Amara freeze mid-wail.

Then she doubled down, sobbing even louder, like she was trying to drown us all in her grief.

She clung to me tighter like was a life raft and she was the Titanic

Then came the shrieked accusations:

“What are you laughing at?! I knew the second I saw you–you’d seduce him! You shouldn’t be together!”

“Amara, please stop crying,” I attempted reason.

“You’re known for your cool, elegant beauty. Your makeup is running- you look like a horror movie extra.

Please. Pull it together. Ugly-crying won’t get you a rewrite.” At the mention of her ruined makeup, she made a sound somewhere between a sob and a growl–then promptly buried her face deeper into my chest.

Sebastian’s eyes widened like he’d just witnessed a car crash in slow motion.

I froze.

I looked down at the head pressed against my boobs and had one singular, horrifying realization:

Was I being emotionally held hostage and physically assaulted by my boyfriend’s deranged ex?