CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Serafina
I stood before the mirror, running the silver brush through my dark hair. The bristles caught on a tangle and I winced, my fingers working to gently separate the strands.
It had been three weeks since I invited Adrian into my bed. Willingly.
And every time, he showed me new ways of finding pleasure.
My lips were swollen, a visible reminder of last night. Of Adrian’s savage passion, his hunger for me. I traced my lips with my fingertip, feeling the tender flesh beneath my touch.
I could still feel him.
His mouth on mine, his hands on my body, the way he had taken me with such carnal, brutal force.
I closed my eyes, briefly allowing myself to remember the weight of him, the way he had whispered my name like a sinful prayer against my skin.
A flush crept up my neck at the memory.
Adrian consumed me.
He was utterly intoxicating. His touch. His lips. Him. Him. Him.
Goddamn it, all of him.
My fingers trailed to my throat where faint bruises marred my pale skin. Evidence of his possession. His claim.
I traced the bite marks, my heart fluttering with a dangerous mix of revulsion and desire.
I was still waiting. Still biding my time.
The right moment hasn’t come yet.
Patience is a virtue.
A small smile played at my lips as I continued to brush my hair but that smile faded just as quickly as a strange scent reached my nostrils.
Sharp. Acrid. Familiar.
I turned, my nose wrinkling as I tried to identify it.
The air in my bedroom seemed different, heavier somehow.
And then I realized—smoke. I was smelling smoke.
My heart stuttered in my chest.
No. Please, no.
Not fire. Not again.
My gaze darted around the room, searching frantically for the source. Nothing.
But my nostrils flared as the smell was growing stronger, more intense. My lungs constricted, panic rising like a tide within me.
A thin tendril of smoke curled beneath my bedroom door, followed by another, and another. The air grew thick, acrid, burning my lungs with each panicked breath.
“Fire,” I whispered, the word barely audible even to my own ears.
This couldn’t be happening.
No…
It couldn’t be.
My body went rigid with terror.
I couldn’t move, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think.
The memory of flames consuming everything around me—the heat, the smoke, the screams. God, the agonizing screams.
I remembered all of it. Every slow second, every painful minute.
I backed away from the door, my hands trembling violently.
My chest constricted.
I can’t breathe.
The smoke was thickening now, curling into the room like a living thing, hungry and relentless. I heard the crackle of flames, the ominous sound growing louder with each passing second.
“Help,” I tried to call out, but my voice emerged as nothing more than a strangled gasp. My throat had closed, my lungs refusing to draw breath.
The smoke billowed in, dark and choking. The door began to glow, a dull orange light growing brighter as the wood began to char. Flames licked at the edges, consuming everything in their path.
The heat grew unbearable, searing my skin even from across the room, pressing against my flesh, suffocating and cruel.
I stumbled backward, my legs giving out beneath me.
I was going to die here. Burned alive.
No one was coming to save me.
I collapsed to the floor, my body shaking uncontrollably. Tears streamed down my face, mixing with the soot that was beginning to coat my skin. I hiccupped back a sob.
I tried to crawl toward the window, but my limbs refused to cooperate.
My vision blurred, the smoke filling my lungs, stealing the oxygen from my blood.
The world tilted and spun, darkness creeping in at the edges of my consciousness. I was going to pass out. I was really going to die.
My chest shuddered with another broken sob.
And then I heard it—a voice cutting through the roar of the flames.
“Serafina!”
His voice was desperate, terrified in a way I had never heard before.
I tried to respond, but only a weak whimper escaped my lips.
“Serafina! Where are you?”
Closer now. So close.
I saw a dark shape moving through the smoke, and heard the sound of something being kicked aside.
And then Adrian was there, his face streaked with soot, his eyes wild with fear.
He dropped to his knees beside me, his hands reaching for me. His beautiful face was a mask of frantic desperation.
“Hold on,” he said, his voice rough with smoke and emotion. “I’ve got you.”
His arms wrapped around me, lifting me from the floor.
The last thing I saw before darkness claimed me was his face, so close to mine, his blue eyes burning with a fearful intensity that matched the flames around us.
He came.
But he was the reason I hurt in the first place.
***
I woke to the sensation of something cool against my forehead. A damp cloth, perhaps. I blinked, my eyes struggling to focus in the dim light.
I was in a bed, though not my own. The sheets were unfamiliar and the room smaller. Where was I?
“Serafina?”
Adrian’s voice.
I turned my head to find him sitting beside the bed, his hand holding mine. His face was drawn, exhaustion evident in the dark circles beneath his eyes.
Soot still smudged his cheek, his hair was disheveled, and there was a raw, angry burn along his forearm.
“You’re awake,” he said, relief evident in his voice. I stared at him for a moment, my mind still clouded with confusion and unconsciousness.
And then everything came crashing back to me. The smoke, the flames, the terror.
My pulse spiked, heart hammering as panic rose once more.
“You,” I gasped, the accusation slipping out as I yanked my hand from his. I scrambled backward on the bed, putting as much distance between us as possible. My body trembled, not from cold but from fear and rabid rage. “You did this.”
Adrian’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“The fire.” My voice rose, shaking with emotion. “You set it, didn’t you? You knew. You fucking knew about my fear, and you used it against me. You promised me no more cruelty, no more threats, and then you…you…”
Tears streamed down my face, hot and angry. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think past the betrayal cutting through me like a knife.
“How could you?” I sobbed, wrapping my arms around myself. “How could you do this to me? I trusted you. I actually started to believe you might be different, and then you—”
“Serafina, stop.” Adrian’s voice was firm, but there was a desperation in his eyes. He reached for me but I slapped his hand away. “I didn’t set the fire. I would never.”
“Don’t lie to me!” I screamed, the words tearing from my throat. “You’re always lying, always manipulating! You broke your promise. You break everything and everyone around you!”
That was all he was good at.
Destruction.
Adrian stood, his hands clenched at his sides. “I did not set that fire. I would never do something like that to hurt you.”
He looked indignant that I would accuse him of such things. But I knew of his reality, of the cruelty he possessed.
“Then how did it start?” I demanded, my voice breaking as I stood up.
My knees shook a little but I remained steady on my feet.
“How did it just happen to start in the hallway outside my room? How did you just happen to be there to save me? This was another one of your games, another way to control me, to make me—”
“To make you what?” Adrian’s voice rose to match mine, frustration and anger evident in every line of his body. “To make you terrified? To make you think I’m a monster who would burn you alive? Is that what you think of me?”
“What else am I supposed to think?” I shouted back. “You’ve done nothing but hurt me since the day we met!”
God, I wanted to slap him. Punch him. Kill him.
I hated him.
I hated him with every fiber of my being.
I hated—
“I would never do such a thing to harm you or our baby!” Adrian roared.
The words hung in the air between us, sharp and absolute.
I froze, my breath hitching in my throat. “What?”
Adrian ran his fingers through his hair, a gesture of frustration I had seen countless times before. “You don’t know,” he said, his voice quieter now. He inhaled, his chest expanding with the breath he took. “You haven’t figured it out yet.”
I blinked. What was he talking about? What haven’t I figured out yet?
“You’re pregnant, Serafina.”
Crack.
The room seemed to spin around me.
There was an echo in my soul, a fracture so deep and jagged I wasn’t sure anything could ever mend it.
“No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “No, that can’t be. It’s impossible.”
“Why is it impossible?” Adrian’s eyes burned into mine. “We’ve been having sex, and I’ve come inside you every single time.”
“It’s not possible,” I uttered again, the words automatic, defensive.
Adrian’s expression hardened. “Why, because you’re on the pill?” His laugh was bitter, devoid of humor. “Yeah, I knew you were secretly taking the pill. And I swapped it, since the very beginning.”
Crack.
Another shattered piece of my soul fell to his feet.
“You were never actually on the pill, wife.”
The truth hit me like a physical blow. I stumbled back, hand flying to my still flat stomach.
I stared at my husband, horror and betrayal washing over me in waves. “You... you what?”
“I swapped your pills,” he repeated, his voice steady despite the storm in his eyes. “You’ve been taking placebos. Sugar pills. Nothing that would prevent a pregnancy.”
Rage erupted within me, white-hot and all-consuming.
I lunged forward, my hands reaching for his face, his throat, anything I could claw and tear.
He had deceived me. Manipulated me. Taken away my choice, my control, my future.
“How dare you?” I screamed, my nails scraping against his skin. “How dare you? How dare you deceive me like this?”
Adrian caught my wrists, pinning my arms between our bodies. His grip was firm but not painful, containing my fury without hurting me.
“How could you?” I spat.
“You’re mine,” he growled, pulling me closer, his lips feathering over me. So close, but not touching. “Every part of you. Your body, your soul, your future—it all belongs to me. And you’re carrying my child.”
I struggled against his hold, tears of rage streaming down my face. “Let me go! I hate you. I fucking hate you!”
“Push me away all you want,” Adrian said, his voice low and intense. “Scream at me, fight me, hate me but it won’t change our truth.”
I was going to be sick.
I pushed away from him with all my strength, breaking free of his grasp. “Stay the fuck away from me,” I hissed, nausea building in my throat. “I don’t want to see you. Get out of my sight.”
Adrian’s expression darkened and then he nodded. “I’m leaving now but I will be back later when you’re calmer.”
He left.
And I collapsed to the ground.
Calm?
I would never be calm again.
I was pregnant.
I was carrying Adrian Salvatore’s child.
A child conceived in deception, born of obsession and revenge.
Every facade, every lie, everything I had carefully planned, it all crumbled. Shattering, burning into ashes.
My husband had been one step ahead.
And I had once again allowed myself to be his pawn.