Page 13 of Addicted To His Favorite
He carried her straight into a grand bedroom.
The room had floor-to-ceiling windows draped in heavy silk curtains, a massive king-sized bed with a perfectly tailored velvet headboard, and polished surfaces reflecting the soft glow of designer lamps.
Plush rugs softened the marble floors, and a small seating area by the window.
“This is our bedroom,” he said simply, placing her gently on her feet—but keeping her close, his hands still firm around her waist.
“What?” she whispered, eyes wide.
He nodded. “We’re going to be a married couple. It’s only right.”
Emily blinked, stunned.
Married? Already?
He continued, completely unfazed by her silent shock.
“And since you’ll be staying here, I’ve arranged some clothes for you.”
She followed him as he gestured toward a walk-in closet. Her hands shook slightly as she opened the doors—then immediately gasped and stepped back.
“These are... all lingerie?” she choked out, eyes wide.
Every single piece inside was silk, lace, and sheer—sexy nightwear in bold, teasing cuts.
Sebastian leaned against the wooden frames, arms crossed, watching her reaction with amused satisfaction.
“Of course,” he said, voice rough, a wicked smirk dancing on his lips. “I picked them myself. You don’t like my taste?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow.
She stared at him, horrified.
If she said no, would he throw all her clothes away? Or worse—expect her to walk around naked?
She quickly backpedaled, waving her hands. “No! I mean—it’s fine. Everything’s fine. Your taste is… fine. I’m just going to freshen up. Bathroom. Right now.”
She turned and practically fled into the ensuite.
***
“Mr. Cantrell,” the Cantrell family’s long-time driver, glanced at Lucas in the rearview mirror. His gloved hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel before he spoke.
“Sir,” he asked cautiously, “should I drive you directly to Cantrell Mansion?”
Usually, when the two of them attended a party together, Emily was seated right beside Lucas on the ride home. Seeing him alone now felt wrong enough to unsettle the driver.
Lucas didn’t respond. His jaw was clenched so tightly a muscle twitched near his temple. His thumb moved in sharp, impatient motions as he stabbed at his phone screen, dialing Emily’s number again.
The same cold message greeted him—‘The number you have dialed has been blocked by the receiver.’
The polite, mechanical tone only made the pressure in his chest coil tighter, his fury simmering beneath the surface.
Beside him, Taylor shifted in his seat. He caught the driver’s questioning look in the mirror and gave a small, decisive nod. “Take us to Cantrell Mansion.”
The driver’s eyes flickered back to the road, the hum of the engine filling the tense silence.
Taylor leaned slightly toward Lucas, his voice calm but edged with warning. “If you miss her this much, wouldn’t it be betterto apologize for what happened tonight? Make her understand your side—properly this time. You might still get her back.”
Lucas’s head turned sharply. His eyes, cold and stormy, locked on Taylor’s face as if the suggestion itself was an insult.
