Chapter 71: Stay the Night

Chapter 71: Chapter 71: Stay the Night

Sebastian had reached the fourth episode of a crime series when his phone began vibrating against the bedside table.

He ignored it.

The physicians had recommended avoiding unnecessary stress, which apparently included work correspondence, political news, arguments with Lucas, and anything involving the engagement agreement Nero continued attempting to improve whenever Sebastian was not paying attention.

Sebastian considered the recommendation ridiculous.

Unfortunately, Roberta had threatened to revoke his unrestricted phone access if his blood pressure continued responding to emails as though he were personally fighting their authors.

So he had complied.

The observation suite had been considerably more comfortable since the medical team removed some of the unnecessary equipment, replacing the rigid bedside chair with a proper armchair and allowing Sebastian to use the larger television mounted opposite the bed.

He was currently stretched across the mattress in dark lounge trousers and a loose green shirt, one leg bent beneath the blanket while a bowl of roasted chickpeas sat on the bedside table.

The nutritionist had apparently decided that every snack Sebastian consumed should contain enough protein to support a small construction project.

He had stopped arguing.

The phone vibrated again.

Sebastian reached for the remote and lowered the volume, intending to silence whichever person had decided his afternoon required intervention.

Then he saw Nero’s name.

A message waited above the incoming call.

Call me.

Sent three minutes earlier.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow.

Apparently ignoring his phone had become a criminal offense.

He accepted the call.

Nero appeared on-screen, seated on the edge of his desk in Altera, still wearing the black formal jacket Sebastian remembered from their conversation that morning. His long white-blond hair had been tied back, although several loose strands had escaped around his face, and the faint tension at the corners of his mouth suggested that someone had been making his life unnecessarily difficult.

"My moon."

Sebastian smiled despite himself.

He should have objected to the nickname, if only to preserve some semblance of the distance he had maintained for years, but he had already decided to be selfish in this timeline, and that meant allowing himself to enjoy the things he had once refused.

Besides, testing Nero’s patience had become one of his favorite forms of entertainment.

"Yes, love?"

Nero stopped moving.

Sebastian watched the expression on his face change with considerable satisfaction, the faint irritation around his mouth disappearing as his violet eyes widened before narrowing again, apparently searching Sebastian’s face for evidence that he had misheard.

The silence stretched.

Sebastian reached for another roasted chickpea.

"Are you still there?"

Nero blinked.

"Say that again."

"No."

"Sebastian."

"You called me. I assume you had something to tell me."

Nero slowly lowered his gaze toward the phone, then looked back at him with an expression of such profound suspicion that Sebastian nearly laughed.

"You called me love."

"Did I?"

"Yes."

"How unfortunate. I must be experiencing another symptom of the transition."

Nero’s mouth curved.

Sebastian recognized that smile immediately.

The bastard was recovering.

"Roberta should document it."

"Absolutely not."

"I think affectionate language is a significant developmental milestone."

"You are going to make me regret answering this call."

"Impossible. You called me love."

Sebastian laughed, shifting against the pillows as he watched Nero lean back on the edge of his desk, apparently deciding that whatever had been irritating him before the call could wait while he enjoyed this particular development.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then Nero’s smile softened into something Sebastian was still learning how to handle.

"My moon."

Sebastian felt an entirely unreasonable warmth settle beneath his ribs.

Oh, he was going to be insufferable when he got back.

"So," Sebastian said, reaching for his water, "what happened in Altera?"

Nero’s expression changed.

"An exceptionally stupid wealthy child has apparently decided that his family should be allowed to rewrite the circumstances surrounding his criminal behavior."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow.

"That describes a remarkable number of people."

"This particular idiot attempted to drug me."

Sebastian stopped with the glass halfway to his mouth.

"That is extraordinarily stupid, although I suppose some people will try anything to get what they want," he said, taking a sip of water.

Nero’s eyebrows rose.

The remark was far too casual for his liking, and he immediately wondered whether Sebastian was speaking from experience. He made a mental note to investigate that possibility later, preferably without Sebastian discovering that he had just given Nero another reason to reconsider the continued existence of certain individuals.

For now, however, he had another matter to complain about.

"So, how did you deal with him?" Sebastian asked, raising the glass to his lips again.

"I made him drink the spiked whiskey and sent him to Vesper’s orgy room."

Sebastian spat out the water.

Unfortunately, he had been looking directly at the phone when Nero delivered that particular piece of information, which meant most of it landed on the blanket and the unfortunate bowl of roasted chickpeas resting beside him.

Nero blinked.

Then his mouth curved.

"Are you all right, my moon?"

Sebastian coughed, set the glass down, and reached for a tissue while staring at the screen with an expression of absolute disbelief.

"You did WHAT?"

"I made him drink the whiskey he prepared for me."

"I heard that part."

"Then which part requires clarification?"

Sebastian slowly lowered the tissue.

"Nero."

The crown prince looked entirely unrepentant.

"You sent a drugged omega into Vesper’s orgy room?"

"Yes."

Sebastian stared at him for several seconds before dragging one hand down his face.

He had known Nero for years.

He knew the man was possessive, vindictive, and capable of responding to an offense with enough disproportionate force to make everyone involved reconsider their life choices.

Apparently, he had still underestimated him.

"God, you really are your fathers’ son."

Nero smiled.

"I take that as a compliment."

"It was an observation."

"A complimentary observation."

Sebastian shook his head, although the corner of his mouth twitched despite the discomfort settling beneath his ribs.

He understood retaliation.

As a dominant alpha, he had certainly never been particularly forgiving toward someone attempting to compromise his control.

But Nero had apparently decided that ordinary consequences were insufficient.

"Tell me Vesper had medical personnel monitoring him."

Nero’s expression shifted slightly.

"They did."

"And?"

"The investigation is ongoing."

Sebastian studied him.

There were details Nero was choosing not to provide, and Sebastian was not entirely certain he wanted them delivered while sitting in a medical bed with Roberta monitoring his blood pressure.

"Does Lucas know about this?"

"Why would Lucas know?"

"Because if he finds out, I am going to spend another month listening to him explain why marrying you is a terrible idea."

Nero’s smile widened.

"You are marrying me anyway."

"That was not the point."

"It was my favorite part."

Sebastian looked at him for a moment, then reached for another tissue to rescue the bedside table from the water he had spilled.

"Please tell me the rest of your afternoon involves paperwork rather than further creative punishment."

"Unfortunately, yes. I will return for a few hours, but I have to return for tomorrow and the day after."

"Why?"