CHAPTER 48
The war did not begin with gunfire. It began with a letter that a staff member gave her after the chaos had settled. It arrived sealed in black wax bearing a sigil Sera had only seen on her necklace, on the map and carved into the man’s ring the night she killed him.
Virelli.
Inside the letter read,
You were never meant to be hidden.
You were meant to rule.
Meet me where the sea eats the cliffs.
No signature.
Sera folded the letter with trembling fingers, the edges crumpling beneath her grip.
The words echoed in her mind, but all she could feel was the hollow ache spreading through her chest. Every beat of her heart felt heavy, weighted with a mixture of longing and fury.
Maybe all this time, Sera had been living a lie.
She moved almost blindly through the estate, the cold corridors pressing in on her like the walls themselves wanted to suffocate her.
She didn’t think, didn’t plan. Every instinct in her body demanded she follow the trail, even if it meant stepping into darkness she couldn’t control.
Hatred burned beneath her skin, not just for the death, or so absence of her mother, not just the death of her father, not just for the lies that had stacked themselves over the years but for the world that had dared to make her believe she had nothing, that she had been alone.
The cliffs were jagged, rising sharply from the turbulent sea below.
Waves crashed violently, sending salty mist across her face, but she barely noticed.
Her hands shook, clutching the edge of the railing as her mind wandered, imagining her mother waiting, warm and alive, a promise of reunion that might finally fill the gaping void inside her but when she saw the figure standing in the shadows, the outline sharp against the setting sun, her heart didn’t leap, it sank. Could it actually be her?
A gloved hand shot out before she could react, yanking her backward.
The world tilted. Pain lanced through her ribs as she hit the ground.
Another hand clamped over her mouth, stifling the scream that had already clawed its way up.
Cold eyes glinted from the darkness, strangers, faceless enemies who had been waiting, silent and patient.
Rage flared, mingling with terror. She thrashed, but their grip was iron.
Hatred screamed in her mind, not for this moment, not for them but for the betrayal that had allowed her to walk into it.
By the time she realized they weren’t going to speak, weren’t going to explain, it was too late.
They were dragging her into a waiting van, the roar of the waves swallowed beneath the metallic growl of the engine.
Her fists pounded against them, her nails piercing skin, but nothing could pierce the calculated control of her captors.
The cliffside disappeared behind her, replaced by the suffocating darkness of the vehicle’s interior.
Sera’s chest heaved with sobs she refused to let escape.
Her mind reeled with every memory, every loss, every lie she had swallowed for years.
Her mother…maybe she wasn’t who she thought she was.
Lucien, he had left her alone in the estate.
The betrayal cut deep, sharper than any knife.
Every fiber of her being screamed for vengeance, screamed for escape.
She refused to cry out loud, no one would hear her, no one would come, yet, inside that suffocating cage of darkness and betrayal, a fire sparked.
Hatred . Pure, blinding, consuming hatred.
She would survive this. She would fight and when she did, those responsible, every single one, would pay.
Because Seraphina Calista Moretti did not break.
Not completely.
Not yet.