Sebastian

That afternoon, Sebastián arrived punctually for his appointment with Katerin. It was an elegant restaurant, one of those places where the low lights and soft music seemed designed for secrets. Katerin was waiting for him, but she wasn't alone. Sitting serenely next to him was another woman: Sukira.
The moment his eyes met hers, something inside him stirred. Sukira didn't need flashy dresses or expensive jewelry to shine. She was beautiful in a distinct, natural, almost ethereal way. Her face radiated purity, and without a drop of makeup, she had a clean, magnetic beauty that needed no adornment to stand out. There was an air of elegant distance about her, as if the world couldn't touch her essence without her permission.
—Sebastian, meet my best friend, Sukira —
Katerin said with a smile, ignoring the silent spark that had just been lit.
Sebastian bowed his head, greeting her with his characteristic courteous coolness. But his eyes, dark and intense, lingered on her longer than necessary. He watched her silently, studying every gesture, every movement, without Sukira noticing—or maybe she did?
She, for her part, looked at him with respect. She had heard of him, knew who he was: the powerful millionaire, the man her friend claimed to love. And yet, far from seeking his attention, Sukira remained reserved, measuring her words, careful with every gesture so as not to cross any lines. Her loyalty to Katerin was unwavering.
But, even if she didn't want it, her mere presence captivated him. Sebastián, accustomed to the fact that no woman could resist his magnetism, found himself fascinated by someone who didn't try to impress him, who didn't even seem to seek his gaze. Sukira was different. Her beauty wasn't a cry, it was a whisper; she seduced not with intention, but with her very essence.