CHAPTER 5
Seraphina
I woke to the sharp scent of rain on stone, the estate’s walls cold against my bare arms. A storm had passed overnight, leaving puddles that glinted like fractured mirrors in the dim morning light.
The echo of footsteps, someone moving silently in the hall and it made my pulse spike.
Of course, it was him. Lucien . Always present, always observing, a shadow that refused to leave me alone.
I poured coffee into a chipped cup, letting the warmth seep through my fingers, hoping it would calm the storm in my chest, but it didn’t .
My mind was still tangled with thoughts of him, the way his gaze lingered, sharp and precise, as if he could read every secret I tried to hide, every trembling desire.
I remember the first night, the way he had leaned close in the library, the faint brush of his hand against mine as he handed over a book.
I had felt fire spread across my skin, a warning and a temptation all at once.
I hated that memory, yet I couldn’t stop replaying it.
“Do you understand why this matters?” His voice cut through my thoughts.
I looked up to see him in the doorway, tall, black suit immaculate, hands clasped behind his back, the faint scent of sandalwood drifting toward me.
He didn’t need to speak any louder, his presence was enough to make the room shrink around me.
“I… think so,” I whispered, though I knew I was lying. Understanding the Syndicate, the webs my father had woven, the debts, the power plays, it was overwhelming and yet, part of me was fascinated.
“Curiosity can save you,” he said, stepping closer. His eyes lingered on me, and I felt as if they could pierce straight through bone and skin into my very heart. “Or destroy you and sometimes… it does both.” Lucien said with his head slightly tilted and a grin creeping up.
The words left me breathless. He stood so close that I could feel the faint heat of him.
My mind screamed to step back, to regain control, but my body betrayed me, leaning forward slightly, as though drawn by the force of him, as though I wanted to be close.
The tension, unspoken but undeniable, wound tighter around my chest.
Later, when I roamed the east wing alone, I traced my fingers over the carved stone bannisters, the intricate patterns worn smooth by decades of hands like mine.
The walls whispered secrets, echoes of the past, my father’s mistakes, the lives he had ruined, the power he had sought and in those shadows, I felt Lucien’s presence lingering, an invisible tether keeping me in place, watching, judging, controlling