Three years ago…
Narrator
Sebastian guided Elizabeth into the study room.
Elizabeth's gaze swept over the intricate interior designs the moment they stepped in. She had never been to this part of the mansion before, and every detail pulled her in.
Sebastian, however, wasn't paying attention to the room at all—his eyes were fixed solely on her. He couldn't take them off her, not even for a blink.
It felt as though if he looked away for a second, she might simply vanish.
Last night, he had sent her a text asking her to come over. She hadn't replied. But today, the moment he called and pretended he was dead, she appeared in seconds.
This wasn't like him—Sebastian Jakub didn't beg women to visit, didn't seek attention. Women chased him, not the other way around. Yet this little Brazilian woman was driving his world upside down, making him plead—if only in subtle ways—for her to stay.
Even he himself was surprised at how much he had changed.
He didn't know what magic she was working on him, but she was altering him from A to Z. And he couldn't explain why—but her presence made him feel more relaxed, lighter… as though she brought him joy without even trying.
Undeniable joy.
Elizabeth wandered toward the shelves, scanning the spines of neatly arranged books.
She wouldn't have guessed that a man like Sebastian still took the time to read. When? she wondered. He seemed far too busy to be the type to curl up with a book.
Sebastian's self-control was wearing thin. Watching her from across the room wasn't enough; he wanted to cross the distance, take her in his arms, and kiss her with every ounce of hunger he felt.
He walked up behind her as she examined the titles, but he stopped himself before acting on impulse.
She turned, holding a psychology book in her hand.
Damn, those gray eyes. He cursed inwardly.
There was something about her gaze—every time she looked at him, it felt like she was stealing a piece of his soul.
"You said you wanted to show me something," she reminded him, still reading the synopsis at the back of the book.
He swallowed, trying to calm the beast stirring inside him.
If it were any other woman, he would have already pinned her to his bed without hesitation. But Elizabeth wasn't "any other woman." She was… special. Something money couldn't buy. Something he wasn't even sure he deserved.
"Yes," he finally said, his voice low.
He went to the desk, pulled out two large cardboard sheets—one pink, one blue—and laid them flat.
Elizabeth leaned closer. "What's this?"
Sebastian didn't answer right away. His eyes were still on her, not the papers.
When she caught his gaze, he quickly diverted it. "These are building plans. Are you planning on making another mansion?" she asked.
He nodded. "Yes, and I need you to choose which one you think is better."
Her brows drew together. "Um… I don't really know, Sebastian. That's like asking me to guess, and I'm no expert." She gave a light shrug. "It actually depends on the woman you want to marry." She had no idea she was that woman in his mind. "But… I think this one is okay." She pointed to the pink sheet.
Sebastian leaned in, eyes flicking from the plans back to her. "You like it?"
She shrugged again. "It's pretty, but don't you think it'll cost more? Look—" She pointed at different sections. "From this view, it looks like a beach house. Are you fond of houses by the sea? Then here—these rooms are too many. Four floors. The kitchen is five times bigger than normal, and the compound? Huge. This will cost a fortune."
He smiled faintly. Another thing he liked about her—she was careful with money.
"Yes, it'll cost a lot. But that's my problem, okay?"
"Sebastian, I'm just being considerate. This is massive. Come on, are you building a stadium?" she teased.
"It's a family mansion plus a beach house. I knew the cost before making the plans. Don't worry—it won't make a dent in my wallet." He folded the sheets away.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. She already knew how absurdly wealthy he was—sometimes she compared his fortune to the oceans: endless, impossible to drain.
"Stop doing that." He suddenly said.
She frowned, "Doing what?"
"Doing this." Sebastian demonstrated by rolling his eyes. "To me, it's disrespectful and you're too beautiful to be rude."
She blushed in embarrassment and looked away. She can't believe he just called her beautiful. But was she really beautiful? Was her beauty so striking to be known?
Her arms wrapping herself like the room temperature was turning cold.
"You want to play a game?" he offered when she looked bored. "Or we could go out for something to eat."
"Sebastian, eating out is wasting money," she murmured. "Why don't we just cook something nice here? Then we can play your game later."
"Alright, Ms. Frugal. The kitchen's all yours."
---
Later that afternoon
Sebastian sat at the dining table, focused on his phone. Elizabeth came in with a wide tray of steaming dishes.
Her eyes narrowed at the unprepared table.
"Hey, did you grow up in a house where one person does everything?" She set the tray down. "No water bottles, no glasses, no plates, no napkins—where's everything? Who's getting them?"
Scratching his head, he muttered, "Uh… I'm not used to house chores. But I'll get them." He stood to fetch the items.
Elizabeth fought back a smile. She was doing this on purpose—part of her just wanted to see him fuss around.
When she didn't hear him return, she went to the kitchen.
She raised a brow. He was standing there, staring between two types of glasses as if making a life-or-death decision.
Pressing her lips together to keep from laughing, she asked, "What are you doing, Mr. Jakub?"
"Which glasses are good for water? I don't use glasses for water—only wine, spirits, vodka, and whiskey."
"How do you drink water then?"
"Straight from the bottle."
She try not to roll her eyes since he already warned her about it. She took the glasses from him. "This," she held one up, "is a tumbler. It's used for water or juice. Got it?"
"Yes, ma'am." he smiled cheekily.
---
They were halfway through lunch when Elizabeth's phone rang.
She glanced at the screen. "Oops, it's Natasha." she murmured.
Sebastian groaned, his expression instantly sour. "Please don't tell me you're leaving right after this—like last time."
Like seriously, he really wants her to stay. In fact, spend the entire day with her if possible.
"You know I left because of your little 'prank call'," she reminded him, sipping her water.
"We still have a game to play," he said, twirling his fork between his fingers.
"We can postpone it."
"The postponement is expensive," he said with a sly grin, eyes darkening. "It comes with a price."
She tilted her head, pretending to think. "How much?"
"You spend a whole week with me—that's the price."
Her eyes widened. "A whole week? That's too expensive."
"Then play the game after lunch." He smirked.
Elizabeth glanced at her still-ringing phone. She had promised Natasha a movie today, but now she was caught between a friend's outing and Sebastian's game.
She sighed. "Fine. One week. Deal."
"Today's Sunday," he said, satisfied. "A new week starts tomorrow. I love Mondays."
She rolled her eyes again. Forgetting his warnings. "Whatever," she muttered, finally answering Natasha's call.
Sebastian pressed his lips together. He hated when women rolled their eyes at him. To him, it was pure disrespect—and it wouldn't be acceptable, not even from his own mother.