A/N: Here's the last chapter of Part One. I've decided to merge the two books so don't fret. There will be more coming.

I'm not sure how you will feel about this chapter but know that lovestories aren't always the smoothest journeys. Sebastian and Cassandra will prove that. 

Enjoy! I may not be able to post right away because I have some family visiting so I won't have as much time. In the meantime, check out my other story, The Mischievous Mrs. Maxfield. Thanks!

Please VOTE and COMMENT! 

***I want to dedicate this chapter to JessGirl93 whose books I enjoy very much. She's on a mini-hiatus so I'm pulling my hair a little bit waiting for an update on The Bad Boy's Girl because it's a totally awesome read. This is a symbol of my fervent wish to see what happens next between Tessa and Cole.***

***

Two days later, I was fretting over my empty inbox wondering if I was going to hear about any of my other scholarship applications before school started.

I had already worked out a schedule with Sebastian.

I was going to leave this Friday and spend several days packing up my stuff before flying out to Philadelphia exactly a week later. All my flights were booked and I had a spot reserved in residence already. 

I had cried quite a bit as we were booking the flights and Sebastian held me in his arms for a while, soothing and reassuring me that it was going to be alright. 

He had a shareholders' meeting that Friday I arrive in school but he was going to fly out on the weekend to help me settle down before classes started.

As to when we were going to see each other next, I didn't know. 

We hadn't planned that far ahead. 

Sebastian mentioned something he was working on but he wouldn't quite tell me. I was certain he wasn't moving to Philadelphia—it was too far away when his work was here. 

He had actually been quite busy after that day of our trip downtown that I'd only seen him in the evenings when he came home from work now that he had started to ease back into it again.

I was planning dinner in the kitchen when Sebastian called.

"Jennison's going to pick you up in an hour," he told me without preliminaries. "Dress for dinner and bring the key I gave you for your birthday."

I smiled. "What do you have planned, Sebastian?"

"It's a surprise," he said mysteriously. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Alright," I said, putting back the produce I'd taken out on the counter. "I'll get ready."

"I love you."

I grinned. "I love you, too."

Since his declaration at the cemetery, Sebastian hadn't been reserved in saying it to me over and over again. He always had this bright, excited gleam in his eyes whenever he said it as if it amused and surprised him to find himself capable of saying them in the first place.

I showered and fixed up my hair into a loose bun and slipped into one of my new clothes—a cobalt blue silk shift dress with a romantic, ruffled neckline. I wore my white slingbacks with it and topped it with a small, knit cardigan.

"Hi, Jennison," I greeted the bodyguard warmly as he helped me into the car.

We briefly exchanged pleasantries and he even went on to tell me that the property management company who was looking after the house was going to send over a couple of their staff to help me pack up. 

I tried asking him where we were headed but all he told me was downtown.

I assumed we were going to Sebastian's penthouse but we were on the wrong side of the city center.

We pulled over in front of a large, brownstone Victorian mansion in Sidley Yard, Cobalt Bay's oldest neighborhood that had slowly converted into a popular hotel, restaurant and specialty store area after the city's economy boom decades ago. Its location was right in the heart of downtown and its architectural interests made it sought-after by the elite and the artistic crowd. Real estate had risen all around it, boxing it in between two large, old-fashioned office buildings.

"This is Sainthill," I said to Jennison, recognizing the house from my childhood memories. 

It was built by British immigrants who moved to Cobalt Bay. They were thoroughly criticized for the ostentatious grandeur of the residence that included the mansion, the courtyard gardens and the apple orchard behind it. Their only explanation was that they were gentry, minor, but gentry, nonetheless, and they had become ridiculously wealthy after setting up a successful shipping trade in the west coast.

The first few generations had lived like aristocracy for some time before some of their business collapsed due to bad investments. Maintenance on it had been gradually slackening over the years but the government couldn't do anything about it due to strong urging from the residents to retain it as a historical landmark and the fact that it was still privately owned by whoever had bought it off the Sainthill family.

"Go on inside, Cassie," Jennison said as he helped me up the front steps.

The grand entrance was still in excellent shape although the tall trees badly needed trimming. Vines had crept along the front wall of the house but I found that it added to its old-world charm. The wall scones were lit, brightening the front of the house and accentuating the stone benches and fountain that filled the small front yard.

Why I was here, I had no idea, but my curiosity got the better of me so I went on to knock at the heavy, arched double doors.

It ceremoniously opened, a man dressed in an impeccable butler uniform sweeping an arm sideways to invite me in.

The interior was everything one could imagine in an old Victorian mansion—gilded, ornate and despite its wearied state, fabulously resplendent with its accents of gold and silver from furniture hardware to the light fixtures to the intricate mirror sets on the walls.

The butler stayed behind as I walked forward to look around the hall and peek at the rooms on either side of it. Even with most of the furnishings gone, they both looked like very large and airy sitting rooms.

There was notecard pressed up against the wall beside the door on one of them.

These could be merged as the restaurant/cafe.

My brows arched, a funny feeling starting in my gut as I recognized Sebastian's handwriting.

In the center of the hallway was a U-shaped wooden staircase that led up to a mezzanine of some sort. All around it was a vast, empty room with high ceilings and large arched windows. It looked like a ballroom.

There was another notecard sitting at the bottom step of the staircase.

This was the living room/dining room area that often converted into one large entertaining space. This could be the main bookstore. Imagine it with dozens of high shelves stacked with books.

My heart pounded.

Sebastian couldn't possibly be serious.

I went up the stairs, taking one careful step at a time, watching out for any creaks that would ward me off but the staircase was solidly built, not even springing a little with each of my step.

Reaching the top landing, I found myself in the center of another large ballroom space. A notecard was tucked on the hand railing.

This could be a ballroom for special functions or a gallery—whatever you want it to be.

I crossed the room and headed towards the back hallway where four bedrooms were set up, two on each side.

Another notecard was on one of the walls.

This could be either an extension of the ballroom or serve as administrative offices.

I went back downstairs and crossed the room again to find a very similar set up as upstairs. The first two rooms that faced each other were the office and the library, both featuring a large, wood-burning fireplace.

This could be merged with the main floor ballroom space for the bookstore. Didn't you say you wanted a place where people could sit and read while the fire warmed them up?

The next two rooms after them were the kitchen on the left and staff quarters on the right.

A notecard lay on top of the large prep table in the center of the kitchen.

The kitchen could be used by restaurant staff and the room across could serve as a small retail space for a specialty gift shop or something similar.

"Sebastian," I breathed in disbelief as I looked around the hallway in search of him.

The whole house had been planned out perfectly to fit my dream bookstore and why it had been was a question I needed answers for as soon as possible.

The butler stood by the double doors that led to the back of the house and he held one open for me.

I stepped out to the vast stone patio that overlooked the overgrown but still recognizable maze garden that flanked a majestic stone water fountain in the middle of it.

With the setting sun, everything was touched with a wash of gold, taking my breath away momentarily.

Beyond it was the apple orchard that stretched out to fill the rest of the block that the estate occupied. Behind the high stone walls that surrounded the property were the many buildings and other similar-style homes that had cropped up around the block.

It was like a small slice of the english countryside in the middle of downtown Cobalt Bay.

The butler handed me another notecard before disappearing back into the house.

Come to me. I wait by the fountain.

The fountain was in full display despite the rough shape of the property and it stood like a beacon to me as I walked along the path between the tall, overgrown hedges and shrubs.

I rounded the fountain, gazing up at it, mesmerized by its glorious beauty before I felt a pair of hands touch my shoulders.

"Cassandra," Sebastian's low, husky voice caressed my neck and I gently turned within his arms.

He was handsome and smiling, dressed in a simple black suit with a white shirt opened at the collar.

"Sebastian," I murmured before he pulled me close and kissed me slowly on the lips.

"Thank you for coming," he said as we pulled away. "Come on, let's have dinner first." 

He took my hand and motioned towards the orchard where I could see a rustic table set for two in a narrow aisle between a row of trees heavy with glistening red and pink apples.

He helped me get settled in my seat before taking his.

Two, well-dressed attendants came to fill our wine glasses and serve our appetizers.

"What are we doing in here?" I finally dared ask just as we were halfway through our summer salad and fresh herbed bread. "I didn't even know you could get in here but then if you're the one asking, I won't be surprised."

He grinned. "Do you like it? I've always admired this place. It reminded me of my other home. I thought it would be perfect for your dream bookstore."

I blushed and nodded. "It is perfect. I could picture out everything you described in the notecards."

"Good, because it's yours," he said casually although it didn't stop me from choking on a piece of bread.

I chugged down some water and wiped my mouth with a napkin before looking up at Sebastian's amused expression.

"What did you just say?"

Sebastian's face softened as he reached for my hand. "It's yours. Whenever you desire to start your bookstore, it's here waiting."

I blinked. "You bought this place?"

"The owner, a distant relative of the Sainthills, died and the house was about to be put up in auction," he explained. "A contact of mine alerted me to it because I've had my eye on it for years. If someone else ends up with it, they might tear it down. The government's also reluctant to put money into preserving it as a heritage site and would be more than happy to get it off their hands. I offered on it before it was even put on the market and they accepted my offer. I wanted it before without really knowing what I was going to do with it. But when I saw it again, I immediately realized it would be perfect for you. I wanted to give it to you on your birthday but the official paperwork wasn't done so I gave you the key for it instead."

My mouth dropped open and I hastened to shut it. 

"It needs some serious renovation to make it into the bookstore you want while preserving a lot of its character but it can be done," he continued as the servers came with our main course—something lamb and a complicated vegetable toss artfully set in the plate.

All I could do was stare at it silently as Sebastian went on.

"We can go through the renovations slowly, get proposals and bids from interested contractors," he said, helping himself to a big bite of his food. "The planning stage alone could take a while plus getting all the necessary permits. It could be done by the time you graduate."

I glanced up at him. "You want me to run a bookstore after college?"

He smiled and nodded. "It makes sense. You're going into business and finance, you love books, you've always dreamed of a bookstore. What else could be stopping you?"

My fork fell into my plate with a clatter. "Maybe the fact that I don't have the money to open a bookstore and that I've never started a business of my own before."

He sighed. "Here we go again. I swear, couples with less money probably fight less than we do about it."

"Only because you keep buying me houses and businesses when I never asked for them!" I exclaimed in exasperation. "First the Pendley house, then the pawnshop. Next, you bought me a heritage Victorian mansion to turn into a bookstore. What are you going to buy me next? A goddamned private island?"

His brows quirked. "Did you want one?"

"Sebastian!" I threw my napkin at him which he expertly caught and set aside.

"Alright, this would make more sense if I do this now," he said, getting up on his feet. "I was saving it for later but, anyway..."

He stood around nervously while I glowered at him.

Then all of a sudden he sank down on one knee by my feet, taking out something from his jacket pocket.

My heart nearly stopped as I watched him open a small black velvet box and hold it up to me.

"Cassandra Francesca Collins," he started in a low, husky tone, looking up at me with his piercing green eyes. "Will you do me the great honor of becoming my most beloved wife?"

The ring was a beautiful, vintage design with a large, european-cut diamond set in an intricate mounting with kite-shaped diamonds sitting on each shoulder while smaller diamonds wrapped all the way around the entire circumference of the platinum ring.

It sparkled brilliantly against the golden rays of the setting sun, inviting me to touch it.

"You want me to be your wife?" I breathed unsteadily, stunned at the sudden turn of events.

Sebastian smiled and lifted the ring out of its bed, slipping it smoothly over my ring finger. 

It was heavy, dramatic and frighteningly tempting.

I wanted to spend my life with Sebastian but I wasn't sure I was ready to start it this way, branded by his name and his iron will.

"Yes, I want you to be my wife," he said, kissing my fingers. "We'll marry when you return for Thanksgiving. Then you can transfer to somewhere in Seattle or California for the second semester. That way you'd be closer to me and you can be on top of the bookstore project. When you finish, you can work on it full-time. I've already—"

"Wait," I sputtered, putting a hand up to stop him.

"I thought you had just asked me?" I asked sarcastically. "For a second there, it sounded like you've already made up my mind for me and proceeded to make plans for the rest of my life."

His eyes narrowed. "I can't help it that I'm practical. If we marry, you will have no qualms about me spending my money on you. It would give you a reason to study closer to here and it would keep you with me for good. What better plan can there be?"

My anger snapped anew and I snatched my hand out of his grasp.

"A better plan would be one where I get to make my own decisions," I hissed at him, getting up and gripping the back of the chair. "I'm only eighteen, for God's sake, Sebastian."

"Your age didn't seem to bother you too much when you were out seducing me," he ground out as he got up on his feet, his expression dark and stormy. "What's the matter, Cassandra? You're suddenly not sure you want to spend your whole life with a man like me?"

"Don't put words in my mouth!" I cast him a cold, harsh look. "This is not about how I feel about you. This is about how I feel about your controlling attitude and the fact that I don't know how to be a wife more than I know how to be an independent adult."

"It'll be exactly the way it is now except that you'll bear my last name and that you'll be legally and entirely mine!"

I flinched, struck by the declaration.

"Yours?" I asked with a dry laugh. "Legally and entirely yours? Is that what this is all about?"

His eyes softened. "Of course not. We love each other. Of course I want us to spend our lives together."

"We can and we will," I told him, tears stinging my eyes. "But we don't have to get married in two months. I can consider changing schools but I'm not stepping out into the real world as Mrs. Sebastian Vice when I haven't even had a chance to be regular Cassandra Collins yet."

"You'll never be a regular Cassandra Collins," he muttered.

He briefly closed his eyes and when they opened, raw pain glimmered in them before it was shuttered off. "You have to come up with a better excuse."

"It is not an excuse!"

"It is!" he thundered, his jaw tightening and his green eyes flashing furiously. "All I'm hearing are excuses as to why you don't want to marry me. If you love me, you'll marry me. If you don't, then stop this charade and get out of my life!"

I gasped. "Sebastian!"

But before I could say anything else, he stormed off, marching into the house and slamming the door behind him.

Finally the tears came and I shuddered with them.

I held on to the back of my chair and stared down at my hands, the engagement ring glinting back up at me.

Oh, God. What have we done?

***

I don't remember much of the drive home except that I climbed up into the backseat of the car that was waiting outside, barely acknowledging Jennison who stiffly went about helping me up and strapping me in with the seatbelt.

Sebastian had been nowhere in sight after he left me several minutes before.

My face was pressed up against the glass as I watched the city roll past us, my teeth biting down on my lower lip to hold the tears in.

"Don't worry about him," Jennison said gently. He hadn't spoken a word to me since I got into the car. "He'll find his way home."

"What if it he doesn't want me there anymore when he comes back?" I whispered, drawing in a shaky breath and blinking back the tears that were starting to slip down my cheeks. "I've hurt him and I'm the last person he expects it from which makes my sin all the more unforgivable."

The man was silent for a moment.

"He's a proud man and he's not used to, you know, letting his guard down," the man said uncomfortably although his tone was sympathetic. "He just needs some time to sort it out in his head."

"It was such a total disaster," I finally wailed, bursting into tears and burying my face into my hands. "We kept saying all the wrong things and I was so angry and he looked so utterly betrayed..."

I