Chapter 230

Cecilia's pov I woke slowly, my head fuzzy and pounding just enough to make me hate myself. The ceiling above me wasn 't familiar. This wasn 't my room. Panic flared, sharp and immediate. Before I could do more than grip the sheets tighter, I heard footsteps. I turned my head—and nearly choked. Sebastian stepped out of the walk-in closet, fully dressed in a deep navy three-piece suit that looked like it had been tailored by a god and paid for in blood. He looked like he belonged on the cover of GQ, not in the same room as me—bed-headed, hungover, and very much wearing nothing but a robe. Wait. Scratch that. I was the one in the robe. A thick, plush hotel-grade one that definitely wasn 't mine. “...Morning,” I croaked, my voice embarrassingly rough. “Morning,” he replied, calm as ever. “You got drunk at the party last night. Then threw up in your room. I moved you here—yours needed a, let 's say, biohazard-level cleaning.” I blinked. Twice. My brain was still slogging through molasses.