Filed to story: Watch Out, I’m The Lady Boss (Eleanor & Sebastian) Book PDF Free
She blinked, dazed, struggling to process.
“I’m sorry,” she stammered.
“It’s all my fault, I… I wasn’t thinking”
“My wife nearly drowned. And you think a “sorry” will cut it?”
Isobel’s mouth opened, but the words were tangled in her throat.
Then came another slap, sharp and stinging, landing on the back of her head.
Quentin’s mother snarled.
“Try again! Say it like you mean it!”Tears welled in Isobel’s eyes.
“I swear, I’m sorry. I was wrong-
Still, Sebastian said nothing.
Quentin exchanged a desperate look with his parents.
They could feel it-Sebastian wanted more.
But what?
With a tense breath, Quentin clenched his jaw, then kicked Isobel in the shin.
“Get on your knees. Apologise to my cousin properly.”Isobel gasped, eyes wide with shock.
“Quentin!”
“Just do it!”Quentin glanced at Sebastian, who was still stone-faced.
He kicked her again, harder this time, square in the back.
Isobel crumpled, crashing to the floor with a sick thud.
Her knees scraped against the cold marble, breath knocked from her lungs.
She stayed there a moment, hunched and shaking.
Then, slowly, she pushed herself up to sit, trembling, slumped and dishevelled.
Sebastian’s towering frame loomed above her.
From where she knelt, he seemed a mile high.
Isobel clenched her fists, nails digging into her thigh.
“I’m sorry.” She stared at the floor.
“I shouldn’t have pushed Eleanor. It was stupid. It was wrong. I…”She hesitated, then raised a shaking hand.
And slapped herself across the face.
Once.
Twice.
Her skin reddened.
Each strike cracked through the silence like a gunshot.
Sebastian scowled.
None of this came close to atoning for what Eleanor had endur The fire that had erupted in his chest the moment he saw Eleanor The fury that had built, second by second, as he listened to her br had eased.
A couple of self-inflicted slaps and a stammered apology?
Not nearly enough.
Eleanor had almost died.
His eyes drilled into Quentin.
If he hadn’t brought Isobel to the party-
Amaid rushed downstairs, breathless.
“Mr Laurent! It’s Mrs Laurent, she-“Twice.
Her skin reddened.
Each strike cracked through the silence like a gunshot.
Sebastian scowled.
None of this came close to atoning for what Eleanor had endured The fire that had erupted in his chest the moment he saw Eleanor half-submerged and gasping-it hadn’t gone out.
The fury that had built, second by second, as he listened to her broken voice, watched her struggle to speak, to move-none of it had eased.
A couple of self-inflicted slaps and a stammered apology?
Not nearly enough.
Eleanor had almost died.
His eyes drilled into Quentin.
If he hadn’t brought Isobel to the party-
Amaid rushed downstairs, breathless.
“Mr Laurent! It’s Mrs Laurent, she-“Sebastian was already moving before the maid had finished speaking He took the stairs four at a time and reached the second floor in a matter of seconds.
Not stopping to catch his breath, he shoved open the bedroom door Eleanor was buried under a pile of thick duvets, face flushed scarlet.
Her skin had been bloodless just half an hour ago, ghost-pale and ice-cold after she’d nearly drowned.
Now she looked like she was overheating from the inside out.
Her eyes were screwed tightly shut.
“She started heating up a while ago,” the maid behind him stammered.
“I got a thermometer and… it’s forty degrees and climbing.”Sebastian strode over, pressed the back of his hand to her cheek.
She wasn’t just burning up; her skin was scalding.
He just picked her up-duvet and all-cradled her to his chest, and turned on his heel.
“Hospital. Now.”Downstairs, the room buzzed with shocked whispers, but Sebastian barely registered them.
He swept through the hallway, his footsteps thudding over the marble floor, and vanished through the front doors without sparing a glance back.
The driver had already pulled up.
Sebastian slid into the back seat with Eleanor in his arms, and the car peeled off a moment later, tyres screeching faintly against the cobblestones.
Inside the mansion, the stunned silence didn’t last.
“He left? Just like that?” someone whispered.
“It’s the old Mr Laurent’s birthday, for God’s sake. Sebastian’s the head of the family. What happens to the party now?”
“The old man’s still here. The show must go on, right?”In the middle of the chaos, Isobel was still kneeling on the floor like some half-forgotten prop.
No one knew what to do with her.
No one wanted to be the first to ask.
Then the sound of a cane hitting the floor snapped through the chatter.
Edouard Laurent appeared at the top of the stairs, his expression thunderous.
He thumped the cane once more for effect.
“Enough. All this noise. What are you, chickens in a bloody coup?”Even now, even retired, even half out of the family business, the old man’s presence sucked the air out of the room.
He scowled, muttering under his breath.
“Finally get the family together, and that ungrateful brat walks out in the middle of it. The boy clearly doesn’t give a damn what this old man thinks.”Next to him, Declan shrugged his shoulders.
“Not his fault, Pop. Blane Quentin’s psycho girlfriend. She started it. Big bro’s not gonna sit through dinner while his girl’s dying of a fever or whatever.
Edouard’s expression darkened.
He knew Sebastian wasn’t the problem.
But ditching a family event for a woman chafed at his pride.
His gaze landed on the wreck still kneeling on the floor.
“You think this is a bloody street market?” he barked.
“Dragging stays into the ancestral home like it’s a bloody dog shelter?”Quentin’s mother paled.
She looked like she might throw up or faint.
“I’m sorry, Uncle Edouard. I… We’ll get her out of here immediately!”She lunged forward, snatched Isobel’s arm.
“Get up! You’re humiliating all of us!”Isobel said nothing.
Her face was a raw, streaked mess of mascara and blood, smeared from where she’d slapped herself till her skin cracked.