Anna's POV:
I sat in the villa's living room, legs crossed, the quiet elegance of the space offering a calm I didn't feel. The door opened, and Rachel led Sean in.
The young man who stepped inside was indeed the face I remembered from Olympus Club soft features, composed expression, respectful posture. But despite the familiar exterior, something felt... off.
He wiped his hands on a white towel as he approached, his voice soft and formal. "Ms. Shaw, you're here."
I studied him carefully. Clean-cut, well-mannered, and calm exactly how I remembered him. And yet, a faint thread of doubt tugged at me. Something didn't line up.
"Come, sit down. Let's talk." I smiled, masking the unease in my chest as I gestured to the armchair across from me.
He sat gracefully, hands resting naturally on his legs, and his eyes met mine clear, steady, unbothered by status or wealth. That was what had drawn me to him in the first place at Olympus Club. That sense of comfort. Of quiet charm.
But as the silence stretched, something stood out. I frowned. "Where are the servants? There's no tea, no water..."
Before Rachel could respond, Sean answered gently, "I dismissed the staff. I thought you might prefer privacy, Ms. Shaw. I apologize if I overstepped."
He stood before I could respond. "Allow me to make you a cup of coffee."
I blinked, slightly taken aback. While I demanded excellence in business, I was far more relaxed in my personal life. The villa was technically his space now if he wanted to run it like his own, I had no objections. I watched him move through the kitchen like he belonged there.
When he returned, he set a delicate porcelain cup in front of me. One sip, and I raised my brows Macchiato, no sugar. Just the way I liked it.
Impressive.
He sat quietly across from me, hands in his lap again. Smart. Perceptive. Easy on the eyes. And clearly competent.
I took another sip. "Have you quit smoking?" I asked, half-teasing, half-curious.
He looked confused. "Ms. Shaw, I've never smoked."
My hand froze mid-air. A chill traced my spine. "Never?" I asked slowly.
He shook his head, visibly confused now. "No. My father was diagnosed with lung cancer when I was sixteen. I've always stayed away from cigarettes."
I turned toward Rachel, my brows furrowed.
Rachel, calm and composed as ever, nodded. "Ms. Shaw, it's true. His mother passed two years ago. His father is terminal. He worked at an investment firm before switching to Olympus Club to pay the bills."
I felt the color drain from my face.
No smoking. A lean frame. A soft-spoken voice.
He wasn't the man I'd slept with that night.
The man from Olympus Club had been strong—his body hard, movements confident. He smelled of smoke and sandalwood. This wasn't him.
I had made a mistake.
I stood. "Take off your shirt."
Sean hesitated. His cheeks flushed as he stood, clearly reluctant, but he didn't protest. He began to unbutton his shirt with quiet compliance.
When the last button fell away, my doubts were confirmed.
His chest was smooth. Slender. Barely any muscle definition. I stepped forward, pressing a finger lightly against his chest, then squeezing his upper arm.
Too soft. Too thin. Too fragile.
The man I'd slept with had lifted me like I weighed nothing. Had moved like he could break me—and almost did. This body wasn't capable of that.
I had slept with the wrong person.
How had I messed this up?
I picked up my phone and shot a message to Catherine. Within moments, my phone buzzed with her call.
"You really did sleep with the wrong guy?" she asked, bewildered.
"I was drunk," I sighed, pressing my fingers to my temple. "My memory's foggy. I didn't even look properly the next morning. I had to rush to that tea party."
"Oh, Anna…" Catherine groaned. "You've really done it now."
After hanging up, Rachel cleared her throat gently. "Ms. Shaw, Sean is still downstairs. How should we proceed?"
I looked through the stair railing. He was still in the living room, shirt back on, standing awkwardly with his hands by his sides.
I sighed.
I had only taken him in because I thought he was that man. The one who'd rocked my world and left me breathless.
But Sean… Sean was not that man.
Still, Rachel's voice cut into my thoughts, hesitant. "Ms. Shaw, the Olympus Club staff all know he was chosen by you. If you send him back now… he'll be humiliated. Once someone is sent back, they're never chosen again. His reputation will be destroyed."
I hadn't considered that.
A mistake on my part had given him a thread of hope and now I was about to take it away. That wasn't just careless. It was cruel.
I looked down at Sean's worried expression, his gaze full of uncertainty.
He had no idea how close he was to losing everything.
A moment of silence passed. Then I made my decision.
I walked down the stairs, heels echoing on the marble. "Sean, you can stay."
His eyes widened in disbelief. "Ms. Shaw…?"
"Rachel," I said, not breaking eye contact with him, "get in touch with the best hospitals in the city. Specialists, treatment programs whatever his father needs. I'll cover the cost."
Sean's eyes shimmered, and for a second, his lips parted like he couldn't find the words.
"Thank you," he said finally, voice barely above a whisper.
I gave him a small nod, then turned away.
He wasn't the man I thought he was. But maybe, just maybe, that wasn't such a bad thing after all.