Chapter 2: A Favor for a Future

A few days passed after the lake incident. I locked myself in my room, replaying the plot over and over.

I barely left my bed, the covers pulled up to my chin as I stared at the ceiling. My mind raced, sorting through every possible outcome, every twist and turn. The world outside felt distant, muffled by the thick curtains and the steady hum of the old radiator.

I want to survive. I want my whole family to survive.

I could see it so clearly—the Whitlocks, ruined. My brother, my parents, everyone I loved. I clenched my fists. Determined not to let that happen.

I need a plan so Hunter can’t hurt the Whitlocks.

I started making lists in my head. Every connection. Every secret I could use. I wasn’t going down without a fight.

Before I knew it, I’d scribbled Sebastian’s name all over a notepad.

His name filled the page. Looping and sharp. Over and over. He was the key. The wild card. If I wanted to change the story, I had to start with him.

Rather than wait for him to come calling, I might as well pay back the favor now.

No sense in waiting for the other shoe to drop. If I owed him, I wanted to be the one to set the terms.

Everyone in town knows the Whitlocks back the Carters. Our families are tied together for better or worse.

It’s the kind of thing folks talk about at the country club, over sweet tea and gossip. Old money sticks together. Even when the knives come out.

I folded the paper twice, tossed it into the fireplace, and watched the flames devour it in seconds.

The paper curled and blackened, the ink disappearing in a flash. I felt lighter, somehow, as if burning his name could burn away my fear, too.

Mariah came in, carrying a plate of cookies. I barely looked up. I picked up the iron poker and absentmindedly stirred the coals. Sparks crackled and leapt from the hearth.

Mariah’s footsteps were soft, careful not to startle me. She always knew. Even when I pretended I didn’t.

Mariah set the cookies beside me. “Miss, I heard Savannah choked pretty badly and can’t even talk now.”

She spoke in a hushed voice, glancing over her shoulder as if Savannah might appear out of thin air. The whole house was buzzing with rumors.

I didn’t look up, still poking the fire. “Oh, she’s lost her voice? That’s even more tragic.”

I let just a hint of sarcasm slip into my words, but Mariah didn’t call me on it. She just nodded, her eyes wide.

Mariah called softly, “Miss?”

There was a note of concern in her voice—she’d known me since I was a child, and she could always tell when something was wrong.

I looked up. She handed me the cookies. “Hunter sent these. He said he accused you unfairly the other day and wanted to apologize.”

Her hands were steady, but I could see the worry in her eyes. I took the plate, staring at the neat row of pecan shortbread, each one dusted with sugar.

I looked at the plate of pecan shortbread. Hunter was being thoughtful. Or pretending to be. We first met at Maple Street Bakery, both of us reaching for the last pecan shortbread. He wouldn’t let me have it.

I remembered the way he’d smiled. Teasing. Gentle. Like it was all a game. Back then, I thought it meant something.

I later found out he was saving it for Savannah.

Of course he was. She was always the one he thought of first. I was just a bystander in my own story.

I tugged at my sleeve. “Throw them out,” I said flatly.

My voice was cold, final. Mariah hesitated, but she nodded and carried the plate away. I watched the cookies disappear, a bitter taste rising in my mouth.

In the west lounge of the Carter estate, candles glowed and a fancy dinner was laid out.

The room was all polished wood and gleaming silver, the kind of place where secrets traded hands over dessert. The windows overlooked the frozen gardens. Moonlight glinted off the snow.

Sebastian swirled his wine glass. “This is Silver Hollow’s best—imported from Napa. Pretty rare.”

He held the glass up to the light, watching the deep red swirl. The way he spoke, you’d think he owned the vineyard.

He poured me a glass. The aroma was rich. I took a small sip. The flavor lingered.

The wine was smooth, warming me from the inside out. For a moment, I let myself relax, savoring the taste.

Sebastian looked me over. “Guess the lake wasn’t cold enough. You didn’t even stay sick long enough to learn your lesson.”

His tone was teasing, but there was an edge. He watched me over the rim of his glass. Sharp. Unreadable.

“You always have to tease me, huh?”

I tried to match his tone, but my voice was softer than I intended. There was a strange comfort in our banter, a familiarity that lingered from another life.

He set his glass down, fingers idly tracing the rim. His hands were strong. Elegant. Knuckles perfectly defined.

I watched his hands, remembering how they’d pulled me from the water. There was a quiet strength in his movements, a confidence that came from always being in control.

He turned to me. "Now that we’ve had a drink, Autumn, why don’t you tell me why you wanted to see me?"

His voice was low, coaxing. He leaned back in his chair, one eyebrow raised, waiting for me to make my move.

Sebastian has the kind of face that could make anyone weak in the knees. That sly, old-money confidence. When he looks at you, you feel the weight of it.

He could silence a room with a glance, and he knew it. Even now, I felt my heart race under his scrutiny.

I got up to refill his glass. "I wanted to repay you for what you did at the lake."

My hands shook just a little as I poured. I kept my eyes down, afraid he’d see right through me.

Sebastian raised his eyebrows and let out a short laugh. “How do you plan on doing that?”

There was a challenge in his voice, a dare. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, waiting for my answer.

I lowered my voice. "All you have to do is show up at the old clock tower two nights from now. That’ll be more than enough payback."

The words felt strange in my mouth, but I forced myself to meet his gaze. I needed him to believe me.

Sebastian gave me a half-smile. "That’s all?"

He didn’t blink, just watched me, as if he could see every secret I was hiding.

I dropped my gaze. “For now, that’s all. That’s the truth,” I replied softly.

My voice trembled, but I meant it. I wasn’t ready to show all my cards—not yet.

He immediately asked, "And later?"

His tone was gentle, but his eyes were sharp, searching for the truth behind my words.

I steadied myself. Knelt down. Looked up at him. "If you trust me, I’ll do everything I can to help you."

My knees pressed into the plush carpet, and I felt the weight of the moment. I wasn’t begging—I was making a promise.

Sebastian stared into my eyes. His presence was overwhelming. He looked down at me. "Autumn, what do you really want?"

His question hung in the air, heavy and dangerous. I swallowed, searching for the right words.

I took a quiet breath. Steadied myself. “All I ask is that when you come into power, you don’t let rumors make you forget the Whitlocks’ loyalty.”

My voice was barely above a whisper, but I meant every word. I was fighting for my family, for our future.

He clicked his tongue, clearly skeptical. “The Whitlocks have been powerful for generations. They’ve produced two senators. You really think they’d let their only daughter fight for their future like this?”

His skepticism was almost cruel, but I could hear the curiosity underneath. He wanted to know how far I’d go.

"Do I look like I’d lie to you?"

I tried to keep my voice light, but my heart hammered in my chest. I needed him to believe me—just this once.

Sebastian looked at me with a half-smile. "There’s another way to secure your family’s future."

He leaned in. His voice was soft, but commanding. The world narrowed to just the two of us.

He lifted my chin. Our eyes met. He smiled. “Marry me.”

His grip was a little rough. I could feel it.

My breath caught. His words echoed in my ears. Impossible. Inevitable. Both at once.

I sucked in a breath.

The air between us crackled with tension. My heart pounded, and I couldn’t look away.

Sebastian’s eyes were bottomless. Cold. Dark. "You were supposed to marry me in the first place."

He said it like a fact, not a question. Like it was written in stone, and I was just now remembering.

I was supposed to marry Sebastian. That was the plan.

The realization hit me all over again, as heavy as the family silver locked away in the dining room hutch. This was the path I’d been meant to walk, before I’d let myself get swept away by someone else’s story.

The Whitlocks are a family with a century-old legacy. Two senators. And counting.

People in Silver Hollow still tell stories about my great-grandfather, about the deals he struck and the enemies he outmaneuvered. Our family name opens doors, but it also paints a target on our backs.

My mom, Carol Whitlock, is the eldest daughter of General Baker. The Bakers have served along the northern border for generations. Military power. Loyalty to the country. Valued by every administration.

At every Fourth of July barbecue, folks would talk about the Bakers—how they’d served in every war, how they kept the family honor alive. My mother wore her legacy like armor. Always reminding me to stand tall.

The Whitlocks and the Bakers each have one daughter—me. From birth, I was supposed to be the perfect match.

I grew up knowing the weight of expectation. Felt it in every lesson. Every whispered conversation in the hallway. I was the bridge between two dynasties.

My family hired the best tutors in Silver Hollow. Luckily, I was bright. Naturally excelled in everything.

From piano recitals to debate tournaments, I never let them down. Every ribbon. Every trophy. Just another piece of the puzzle.

He called me Autumn. I called him Bash.

It was our secret, a sliver of warmth in a world full of sharp edges. Bash was the boy who knew all my hiding spots, the one who shared his dessert at Thanksgiving dinner.

Everyone thought I’d marry Sebastian. So did I. For a while.

The whole town expected it. Even the florist had our wedding colors picked out. It was just a matter of time.

Sebastian treated me well. Whenever he got something good, he thought of me first. Even when I sneaked out and got caught by my dad, he’d cover for me. He couldn’t stand to see me suffer.

He always had my back. When I broke the rules, he’d take the blame. When I cried, he’d find a way to make me laugh. Back then, it was easy.

Even after I met Hunter and insisted on breaking off the engagement, Sebastian took all the blame himself.

He never argued. Never tried to change my mind. He just let me go. Even when it broke his heart.

After that, he called me Miss Whitlock. I called him Mr. Carter.

It was formal. Distant. A wall between us. But sometimes, late at night, I’d catch him looking at me with the same old sadness. And I’d wonder if I’d made a mistake.

These past years, it’s like I was possessed. Throwing myself at Hunter, like he was the only person who mattered. Looking back, I must have been trapped by the story.

It was like living someone else’s life. Making choices that never felt like my own. Now, with my eyes finally open, I saw the truth.

Pain shot through my chin. Sharp and sudden.

Sebastian’s grip tightened. Just enough to remind me he was still there. Still waiting for an answer.

Sebastian arched an eyebrow, his voice low and cold. “Don’t space out on me.”

His words snapped me back to the present. The room felt smaller. The air thicker.

My lashes trembled as I looked up at him. "You’re hurting me," I said softly.

My voice barely carried, but it was enough. He loosened his hold. Just a fraction. For a moment, I saw something flicker in his eyes—regret, maybe, or something dangerously close to hope.

And for once, I wasn’t sure which of us was more dangerous.