Page 69 of Addicted To His Favorite
Before she could say another word, Emily rose from her seat in one swift motion and struck her across the face.
Chapter 25 An Accidental Touch
The sharp crack echoed in the air. Amelia froze for half a second, stunned, before rage surged through her. Her body trembled as she whipped her head back toward Emily, eyes blazing.
She snatched a coffee cup from the table, her intention clear—but Emily was faster. Her hand shot out, seizing the cup and hurling the contents back at her.
The hot liquid splashed over Amelia’s face, dripping down her cheeks and soaking her dress. She gasped, sputtering, her skin flushed red—not just from the heat, but from pure humiliation and fury.
“You fucking bitch!” Amelia screamed, her voice shaking with rage. Her hand shot up to strike Emily.
But before she could land the blow, a hand shot out, gripping her wrist and yanking it back with such force that she stumbled and crashed to the floor.
She blinked in shock—only to see Sebastian towering over her.
At the table, Harold, who had been eating his lunch in total nonchalance, froze mid-bite. The moment Sebastian appeared, his eyes widened in horror. He choked on the broccoli in hismouth, smothered a cough with his sleeve, and instinctively ducked under the table like a soldier under fire.
‘If this evil man finds out I’ve been trying to win over the same girl that he likes, he’ll kill me!’ he muttered under his breath.
He ducked low, staying under the table’s line of sight, and began a comically desperate crawl toward the exit. Within seconds, Harold slipped out of the restaurant without a trace.
Sebastian’s eyes were cold as forged steel when they locked on Amelia. He stood in a charcoal suit that fit like it was made for him, a crisp white shirt beneath and a black tie in place. Dark hair, perfectly styled, framed a face as sharp as his glare.
The scent of burnt coffee clung to the air between them. Amelia’s hair hung in wet clumps, dripping brown rivulets onto her blouse. Mascara bled down her cheeks in uneven streaks, and her once-crisp dress was stained, clinging to her skin in damp patches.
She looked wrecked.
“Who gave you the courage to lay a hand on my people?” Sebastian snapped.
Amelia’s face twisted in indignation, though the tremor in her lips betrayed her fear. “She’s the one who hit me—”
“You’re banned from every company I’m connected to,” he cut in, his tone final.
The blood drained from her face. Sebastian Graves wasn’t just the president of Empire Group—he ruled an empire spanning multiple industries. Being blacklisted by him wasn’t a setback; it was a career death sentence. Any company, in the country or abroad, would refuse to hire her rather than risk crossingSebastian. If he banned her, no one would dare employ Amelia again.
“You can’t do that!” Amelia’s voice cracked with desperation. “Emily attacked me first! You should be punishing her, not me!”
“If you don’t leave right now,” Sebastian said, his voice dropping into something darker, a warning laced with quiet menace, “I’ll extend that ban to your entire family. Every business you’re tied to will be blacklisted from my companies. Permanently.”
Jeremy leaned back in his chair, a wolfish grin curling his lips.
Watching someone stand up for Emily—when her ex-boyfriend had never lifted a finger—was deeply satisfying. Amelia must have believed her pretty face could soften every man she met, but Sebastian Graves looked at her as though she were nothing more than something cheap, unpleasant, and disposable.
Jeremy stifled a laugh and glanced to his right, only to find Harold’s chair empty. He straightened, frowning, and scanned the room, even ducking under the table to check. Not a trace.
“What the hell…?” he muttered, baffled.
Amelia, trembling with a mix of rage and fear, spun on her heel and stormed out, her mind racing and heart pounding.
Leon, who had been standing silently behind Sebastian like a shadow, stepped forward with quiet precision. Without a word, he pulled out the empty chair next to Emily. Sebastian sat without asking, his presence filling the space like a storm rolling in—inescapable, electric, and suffocating.
“Why wasn’t I invited to dinner?” he asked, his gaze sweeping across the table.
Jacob met his eyes evenly. “You’re a busy man, Mr. Graves. I assumed you wouldn’t come to something as small as this.”
Sebastian’s eyes darkened, lips curling into something unreadable. Leaning back with a calculated ease, he said loudly enough for everyone to hear, “From now on, I want to be invited to every dinner related to my projects—and to all events involving my lead designer.” His glance slid sideways, lingering meaningfully on Emily.
Jacob, seated across the table, caught the look. A knowing smirk tugged at his lips before he murmured under his breath, “So you’re not here for the project. You’re here for her.”
