Since returning, Citrine had already taken care of everything at thepany and the research center. For the next while, she nned to stay on campus, keeping a low profile.

    Meanwhile, things at SC Group were ramping up again. Citrine figured Sebastian would be too busy to bother her for a while. The thought brought a subtle sense of relief-at least until she rounded the corner and froze in her tracks.

    Not far ahead, Sebastian was waiting. Citrine''s first instinct was to duck away, but then she remembered her promise not to avoid him anymore. She forced herself to stand her ground, watching as he strode toward her.

    Dressed in a sleek ck suit, tall and striking, Sebastian exuded an air of sharp confidence. Yet as his gaze found hers, all that intensity melted away, reced by unmistakable warmth.

    Sebastian was handsome—impossibly so—and unfailingly even-tempered. Most importantly, he always listened to her. Citrine was no saint, immune to desire; plenty of times, she''d caught herself lingering on that face longer than she meant to.

    While she was still staring, Sebastian reached her side.

    She snapped out of it and asked, "What are you doing here? Isn''t work keeping you busy?"

    Her tone was as cool and reserved as ever, but Sebastian looked delighted all the same—finally, she wasn''t running from him.

    "I have a meeting nearby. Thought I''d stop by," he said, and the warmth in his voice was impossible to miss.

    He lifted the delicate paper bag in his hand. "Your assistant told me these are your favorite pastries."

    Worried she might refuse, he hurried to exin, “I was passing by anyway, so I picked them up for you."

    Citrine nced down at the bag, thoughtful. He''d brought her treats from her favorite bakery—the only ce in Crestwood she truly liked. But she remembered that the shop was all the way out the northern edge of wn,pletely out of the way from hispany. It''d be at least a two-hour detour, and there were always long lines; sometimes people waited three, even four hours for a chance to buy something there.

    She gave Sebastian a long, searching look but said nothing.

    Sebastian didn''t seem to notice her suspicion. When she hesitated to take the bag, he pressed it gently into her hands. "Go on. It''s for you."

    With no other option, Citrine epted it. She was at a loss for words, and all she managed was a quiet, "Thank you."

    No sooner had the words left her lips than Sebastian''s phone rang in his pocket.

    He nced at the screen, but before answering, looked at her. "I should go."

    Citrine nodded. "Go ahead. Don''t keep them waiting."

    As he turned away, phone pressed to his ear, she caught a snippet of his conversation.

    "Boss, the clients are here and waiting for you!" his assistant sounded anxious.

    Sebastian''s reply was calm and unhurried: "I know. I''m on my way." He ended the call and walked off.

    As soon as he disappeared, Citrine turned to head back to the university, only to have her path blocked by a man in ck.

    He got straight to the point. "Someone wants to see you."

    Seeing that he''de alone, Citrine decided he hadn''t crossed any lines—she''d go along, for now.

    She replied coldly, "Lead the way."

    He brought her to a ck car and opened the door for her. Citrine slid inside without hesitation.

    In the back seat waited a middle-aged man, watching her with an air of idle amusement. Citrine frowned, searching her memory for his face, but couldn''t ce him not after several minutes.

    She hesitated, then tried, "Do I know you?"

    "You don''t remember me?" The man''s expression flickered with surprise—almost disappointment.

    It wasn''t that he thought himself unforgettable, but he clearly hadn''t expected her

    to forget the man who once handed her a small fortune.

    "Should I?" Citrine asked, exasperated.

    He gave a slight, almost theatrical bow. "Since Ms. Carmichael is so busy, let me introduce myself. I''m Phipps, Sebastian''s butler. We''ve met before. We even did business together."

    Her eyes narrowed. "Business''?"

    A momentter, realization dawned. "You''re the twenty-million?”

    He nodded.

    "So, why are you here now?" Citrine asked.

    Phipps smiled, unhurried. "From what I''ve gathered, Ms. Carmichael, you and our

    Mr. Vesper seem to be seeing a lot more of each othertely."

    Citrine hated people who beat around the bush-it was a waste of time. Her patience already thin, she said curtly, "Mr. Phipps, just say what you came to say."

    Reading her irritation, Phipps kept e

    his tone cating. "I mean no offense, I only came to remind you of our previous agreement. And..." He leaned forward, eyes intent. "I''d like to propose a new deal.

    Normally, Citrine wouldn''t have bothered to listen. On any other day, she''d have gotten out of the car by now. But for reasons she couldn''t 1.

    exin, she found herself asking, "What kind of deal?"

    Phipps''s gaze was steady. "From what I''ve learned, you''re not just the top medical researcher in Crestwood, but one of the best in the world. I want to hire you to perform surgery on Mr. Vesper-to ensure that his other personality never wakes again."