I might have never met Sebastian Von Klest personally, but it's impossible not to recognize him when his face is all over billboards.
Three-time Oscar winner, one of the most popular actors Hollywood has ever seen, heir of the Von Klest family — known both for his wit and handsomeness.
Josh closes the back seat door and opens the passenger seat.
I just walk past him and get in. Josh closes the door.
Inside the Rolls-Royce, it smells like fresh lemon and expensive male cologne. The custom-made leather seats and sleek interior finish scream money and taste.
"You don't seem impressed by seeing me, Nova."
Sebastian's voice is deep and manly, carrying amusement and something close to audacity.
I take a proper look at him.
Sharp jawline covered in stubble giving him a rugged look, almond-shaped hazel-green eyes that change color based on the light they catch, tanned skin tone, high cheekbones, and pink full lips with a pointed Roman nose that balances his face gracefully.
His wavy golden hair looks messy yet freshly styled. Dressed in a navy-blue polo shirt and white trousers, he's nearly six feet three inches tall, with an athletic rather than bulky build.
"You're staring," he says, turning to me as he starts driving.
"You aren't as handsome as people claim in real life," I say calmly, looking away. I wasn't even joking.
He's good-looking, sure — but after seeing Aaron, I doubt any man holds a candle to him.
Maybe it's my bias. Ever since Aaron started as Deputy VP, M&A suddenly began getting more transfer requests from female employees across departments.
Sebastian laughs low and nods. "Seems like my charm doesn't work on everyone after all."
I don't know what's wrong with me.
I'm being driven somewhere by a man who could kill me for knowing about his affair, and yet I'm sitting here, completely calm and unaffected.
"Usually people aren't this calm when they see me for the first time," Sebastian says lightly, but I can tell there's nothing light about it.
The fact that Sebastian came himself, told Beatrix to go somewhere else, and that Josh didn't tag along — it means Sebastian wants to talk to me alone.
I lean back against the soft car seat, my posture relaxed, sending a clear message: I'm not scared of you.
Sebastian gets it right. A small smirk plays at the corner of his lips as he drives skillfully with one hand, his eyes glinting with the kind of silent menace only men who've been fed on power know how to wield without crossing the line.
"You're using Beatrix for something, aren't you?" I ask calmly.
Sebastian's smirk drops a little. He looks at me suspiciously, his guard rising. "What are you trying to imply?"
I chuckle low and dark, running my fingers through my hair. "If you really loved Beatrix the way she thinks you do, you wouldn't have kept her as a mistress while being married."
Sebastian's jaw tightens, his eyes darkening dangerously. "Are you questioning me?"
"I'm stating a fact," I reply, clipped and cold.
Sebastian's face contorts with anger, which he bites down before focusing back on the road. We're crossing the London Bridge now. His brows crease in irritation.
"You're more annoying than I thought," he says with a humorless laugh.
"I'll take that as confirmation of my hypothesis."
Sebastian smirks, but the hint of sanity in his expression finally cracks. He starts driving faster, breaking every speed law — yet I don't react.
And that only fuels his anger more.
"You're right. I don't love Beatrix. But she makes both a good slut in bed and a useful tool for my future plans."
Sebastian confesses without remorse, without hesitation.
My blood runs cold, but I simply nod.
Sebastian frowns at my calm reaction. "Aren't you going to say something? I just called your friend a slut and a tool."
I raise my eyebrow. "Oh? You expect me to react?"
Sebastian studies my relaxed body language, then slows the car back to normal speed. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
"Why did you want to meet me?" His voice is colder now.
"Just…" I blink slowly. "To see what kind of man cheats on his wife and two kids. I have to say…" I pause. "You aren't half as impressive as I thought you'd be."
Sebastian grits his teeth in anger, his cheeks turning red. "You do realize I can kill you, and there won't be any trace of your existence."
"You would have killed me if you could have."
I hold his gaze, unfazed, which makes him laugh low in disbelief.
"You're a lunatic, you know that?" he says — not with hostility, but with a strange recognition, the kind only one lunatic gives another.
"Stop using Beatrix," I say coldly.
"And what makes you think I'll listen to your little threats?" he sneers arrogantly.
I turn my head toward him. He's handsome — but that's all he is.
"Your wife… she's an excellent painter."
Sebastian's eyes widen. He swerves, making a sharp U-turn, his breathing heavy and chest rising.
"Don't you dare go near my wife," he growls. His knuckles turn white from gripping the steering wheel.
I chuckle. "You love your wife, yet you're cheating on her?"
"It's none of your business, Maya Singhania."
My stomach twists at the mention of my real name — one I haven't used in years — but I keep my mask of calm intact.
"Break up with my friend. If you think you can kill me to keep this secret…" I look straight into his eyes. "Killing me will bring more trouble to you than just breaking up with Beatrix."
Sebastian's body trembles with anger. His eyes search mine for fear — but find none.
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" he snarls, looking back at the road.
"Worst you can do is underestimate me and see what i can do," I pause, my lips curl up into a lazy confident smirk,
" But it will be too late to beg forgiveness."
Sebastian bites the inside of his cheek, saying nothing. I look away.
Fuck.
I'm freaking out inside.
I just threatened the heir of the Von Klest family like I'm someone powerful.
My guts twist with anxiety from the lies I just spouted.
Sebastian only needs to make one call, and my life will be ruined.
But I have to fake my confidence — because most men, all over the world, are the same.
They cower in front of women who are too strong-willed and cold-tempered.
Fake it till you make it.