Chapter 4 - The Serpent at the Table
It wasn't a cold or polite laugh. It was a genuine, dark chuckle that transformed Sebastian’s face, line by line, erasing years of grim authority.
Julian’s face flushed a sharp, embarrassed pink. “Seb, who is this woman?”
“This woman,” Sebastian said, stepping away from the mantle and walking toward them, his dark eyes fixed entirely on Hannah with a new, dangerous spark of respect, “is the person who walked our mother and Poppy home through a blizzard while you were busy losing seventy thousand dollars at an illegal baccarat table in Rosemont.”
Julian’s breath hitched. “Seb—that’s—who told you that? I was at the harbor terminal!”
“The harbormaster’s log says you checked out at two-fifteen,” Sebastian said calmly, stopping two feet from his cousin. The warmth in his voice had vanished, replaced by an absolute, suffocating weight. “The cameras at the Rosemont casino logged your Aston Martin entering the VIP garage at three-ten. You stayed until six. You lost seventy grand of company money, Julian. Again.”
Julian swallowed hard, his arrogant posture collapsing into nervous, twitching energy. “It was a short-term liquidity issue, Seb! I had a bad run of cards! I’m going to cover it—”
“You aren't going to cover anything,” Sebastian interrupted softly. “Because as of five minutes ago, your signing authority on the Marlowe Freight operational accounts has been revoked.”
“You can’t do that!” Julian hissed, his eyes darting frantically toward Celeste, who stood near the stairs with her arms folded, her expression as cold and unforgiving as marble. “Aunt Celeste—tell him! Dad owned thirty percent of this company!”
“Your father was an honest man who died of a heart attack because he spent twenty years cleaning up your gambling debts, Julian,” Celeste said without a shred of pity. “Sebastian has covered your mistakes three times. There will not be a fourth.”
Julian clenched his fists, his body trembling with suppressed rage. He looked at Sebastian, then at Celeste, and finally his glare landed on Hannah—as if blaming her for being present at his humiliation.
“You think you’re untouchable, don’t you, Seb?” Julian spat, stepping back toward the door. “You sit up here in this fortress, handing down judgments like a king. But you’re blind. You have no idea what’s coming for you.”
“If that’s a threat, Julian,” Sebastian murmured, his voice dropping so low it was almost a whisper, “you had better make sure you have enough men behind you to finish it.”
Julian didn't answer. He turned on his heel, slammed his leather gloves onto the foyer table, and stormed out into the sleet, shutting the heavy oak doors behind him with a crash that rattled the chandelier.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Celeste let out a long, quiet sigh, resting a hand against the carved banister of the stairs. “He’s desperate, Sebastian.”
“Desperate men make stupid choices,” Sebastian replied flatly. He turned to Owen. “Have Marcus put two extra men on Julian. I want to know every phone call he makes, every door he knocks on, and every dollar he spends between now and Monday.”
“Boss,” Owen acknowledged, stepping out toward the security office.
Sebastian turned back to Hannah. The sharp, lethal energy that had filled the room settled back beneath his controlled exterior. He looked down at her, taking in her steady, unblinching posture.
“You didn't back down from him,” Sebastian noted quietly.
“I’ve dealt with entitled men who think they own the room my whole life, Mr. Marlowe,” Hannah said, adjusting the strap of her tote bag. “Your cousin isn't special. He’s just louder than most.”
A faint, admiring smile touched Sebastian’s lips. “Dinner is served at seven-thirty. My mother would be honored if you joined us.”
“And you?” Hannah asked, raising an eyebrow. “Would you be honored, or are you just managing your security risks?”
May you like
Sebastian stepped closer—so close she could see the golden flecks in his dark brown eyes, so close she could smell the cedarwood and rain clinging to his skin.
“I would be extremely foolish,” Sebastian murmured, his deep voice wrapping around her like velvet, “to turn down the company of the only person in this city who isn't afraid to tell me the truth.”
