Seraphina's POV
The mansion was quiet, too quiet. Like the whole bullet spraying did not just happen a few hours ago. However the air was heavy—thick with something unseen, carrying a certain energy. I was heading back to my room when I heard his voice. Rafael. I should’ve kept walking. I should’ve. But something about his tone made my steps halt. I leaned against the doorframe, careful to stay hidden.
“…Dante already made his move. He must really love the girl.”
My stomach dropped. My father had something to do with the sporadic gunshots earlier. He launched an attack on the biggest mafia in Italy. The realization hit me hard. I clutched my chest, trying to steady my breathing. My father had sent men to shoot up the mansion for me. A part of me had hoped he would come for me. That he wouldn’t just let this happen.
But what if someone had died? What if I had died? I swallowed, turned, and left before I could hear anything else.
I slammed my door shut and threw myself onto the bed. The tears came before I could stop them. Why? Why couldn’t I stop crying over this place? Everything felt wrong. My father had just declared war on the DeLucas, and now I was here, trapped in the lion’s den. And the worst part? I didn’t even have my damn phone. I wiped my face aggressively. I felt like a prisoner. No devices. No clothes. No freedom.
A knock interrupted my thoughts and without waiting for permission, the door pushed open. I didn’t even need to lift my head to know who it was: DeLuca’s very boss.
“Go away.”
Rafael didn’t listen. Of course, he didn’t. He wouldn't be Rafael if he did. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with an annoyingly slow click.
“Speak to your father.”
I turned my head just enough to glare at him. He stood near the door, arms crossed, his expression blank.
“You think I want to talk to him? I just want my life back!” I snapped, voice rough from crying.
“I don’t care what you want,” he said flatly. “You will talk to him.”
I sat up, pushing my hair out of my face.
“Rafael, I need to go back. Please, let me go” I forced out, my throat tight.
His gaze didn’t shift. I sucked in a breath, frustration bubbling over.
“This is not my home,” I snapped. “I don’t belong here. I have nothing here. No clothes, no gadgets, nothing. I can’t even get a damn phone to—”
“No one here will give you a device.”
His voice was calm. Emotionless. That pissed me off even more.
I clenched my jaw. “Oh, so that’s part of your little power trip? Keep me isolated? Make sure I can’t call for help?”
His lips twitched slightly. “You’re not that important.”
Oh, I hated him. I hated the way he stood there, completely unaffected while I was falling apart. Hate never burned so hot within me before.
I threw my pillow at him. He caught it—easily. He looked down at the pillow in his hands, then back at me, eyes narrowing slightly.
“You’re throwing things now, Moreau? What are you, 6?” He mocked.
I crossed my arms. “What’s next, Rafael? You're gonna lock me in a tower and wait for my father to send a rescue party?”
He didn’t react. Did anything faze this man? Instead, he glanced at his watch with boredom etched to his bearded face.
“As I said, your fate will be decided soon.”
Something cold settled in my stomach. Before I could respond, he pulled out his phone, pressed a few buttons, and shoved it toward me.
“Talk to him.”
I stared at the phone. A few seconds passed before the call connected.
“Hello?”
The second I heard my father’s voice, my chest tightened.
“Dad,” I whispered, my voice barely holding together.
A sharp inhale. “My angel.”
I bit my lip as I tried to stop the tears from falling again.
“Oh, baby.” His voice softened, but it was laced with something dangerous. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
“I—I’m fine,” I choked out. “But—”
“But you were in danger today,” he cut in, his voice darkening. “What happened?”
I hesitated. I didn’t want to tell him I knew it was him.
But I also just wanted—
“Dad,” my voice cracked, “I don’t want to be here.”
Silence graced the room with its presence and almost immediately, my father responded back.
“I’ll get you out.”
I squeezed my eyes shut.
“I promise, Seraphina,” he murmured. “No matter what it takes, I’ll get you out.”
I gripped the phone like it was my lifeline. The call ended abruptly. I pulled the phone away from my ear, my brows furrowing. “What the hell—”
I turned to Rafael.
He had ended the call.
I snapped.
“Are you serious?!” I threw the phone at him. “What is wrong with you?”
His face was empty.
“Get out,” I hissed.
He didn’t move.
I stepped closer, fists clenched. “I said—”
Too fast for me to react, too fast for me to even breathe— Rafael pinned me to the wall. He moved faster than lightning, almost like he teleported. A gasp tore from my throat as my back slammed against the cold surface. His hands were on either side of my head, trapping me. And his eyes weren’t blank anymore. They were dangerous. His voice was low. Lethal like poison yet, captivating, a different vibration accompanied it, like someone played an A zero on a piano.
“Do not act smart with me, Seraphina. I won’t hesitate to end your life.”
My blood froze.
“You are nothing,” he murmured, voice silk over steel. “A pawn in our games.”
A shiver ran down my spine. I should’ve been terrified. I should’ve begged him to let me go and indeed I was. I was terrified. He is known for how ruthless he is, killing anyone who dared to cross his path and now, I and my father dared to. However, I met his gaze, my heart racing and I whispered
“Then make your move, DeLuca. Kill me, right here and now.”
His jaw ticked.
A flicker of something—rage? Amusement?—passed through his eyes. He expected something different, that I was sure of. Then, just as quickly as he had cornered me, he stepped back.
“Cazzo,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.
I smirked. “Getting frustrated, boss?”
He shot me a deadly glare. “You talk too much.”
“And you have control issues.” I shot back.
He exhaled sharply, his fingers flexing at his sides like he was holding himself back from wringing my neck.
“If you keep testing me, I will show you exactly what I’m capable of,” he warned.
I grinned. “Now that sounds like fun.”
His eyes darkened. Then he brought out agunn from his side, pointing it at my head. The cold metal pressed against my skin, almost burrowing a hole in my head.
“Do it, Rafael.” I challenged him and his eyes flickered. This man ended lives like they didn't matter so why should mine be different? As scared as I was, I wasn’t about to back down now. I can’t believe I was throwing my life away.
His phone rang again, interrupting whatever little moment we had. He stepped away from me to pick the call and soon, a grin settled on his face. He looked like he won a lottery.
“You won’t kill me anymore?” I grew the courage to ask.
“Oh, Seraphina, nobody kills their significant other.” He winked at me right after these words fell from his lips.
Significant Other?
Seraphina's POV "Significant other?" The words hung in the air between us, sharp and impossible. "What the hell are you talking about?" Rafael's smirk widened, satisfaction gleaming in his dark eyes. He pocketed his phone and the gun with casual ease, as if he hadn't just threatened my life seconds ago. "Your father and I have come to an... arrangement." My stomach dropped. The way he said "arrangement" made my skin crawl. I backed away until my legs hit the edge of the bed. "What kind of arrangement?" Rafael moved to the window, pulling back the curtain to gaze out at the grounds. The evening moon cast half his face in shadow, making him look more dangerous than usual. "Dante Moreau is many things," he said, his voice deceptively calm. "But above all, he's a businessman. And when faced with losing everything..." He turned to me, his eyes cold. "Even he knows when to make a deal." "Stop talking in riddles," I snapped. My patience had evaporated. "Tell me what's happening." H
Seraphina's POVThe final note lingered in the air, delicate yet powerful, the last whisper of a story told through my fingertips to the crowd. My hands rested on the piano keys, my chest rising and falling as the thunderous applause filled the concert hall. I was content.I stood, offering a small bow, my face carefully composed despite the rush of emotions beneath my skin. This was my world now—music, art, creation. Not the shadows I was born into.I stepped off the stage, my black satin dress flowing with each movement, and made my way toward the side exit for a breath of fresh air. The look in the eyes of the people I came across gladdened my heart. They looked like they were proud of me, like I was a star. The air outside was crisp, a contrast to the warmth of the hall, and I let out a slow exhale, the tension melting from my shoulders.Tonight had been perfect. Almost surreal.As I leaned against the cool stone wall, my phone buzzed in my clutch. A message from Ava, one of my yo
Seraphina's POVI didn't flinch when his fingers brushed my jaw, but it took everything in me to stay still. To not let him see the way my skin crawled under his touch.Raphael Deluca, I'd be stupid if I claimed I didn't know that name.Every whisper of his empire, every bloody rumor attached to it-it all came crashing into my mind like a violent wave. My father's sworn enemy. The man who ruled the underworld with an iron grip, and now, the man who had me trapped in his grasp.My heart pounded, but I forced my expression to remain blank. "If you think you can use me against my father, you're wasting your time."His lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. More like a predator baring its teeth. "Oh, I disagree. See, Dante Moreau may have let you go, however, you are his flesh and blood. He won't let you rot in my hands, no matter how far you've tried to run."I swallowed hard, my stomach twisting. He was not wrong. My father would come for me and that's what I feared: he w
Seraphina's POVI woke up to the scent of the ocean, salt and something deeply unfamiliar—the smell of someone else's home. If wishes were granted the moment they were made, this would have been a dream and I'd have been in London, with my students. My body ached, a dull throb lingering in my wrists where Rafael had gripped me the a few days ago. The weight of exhaustion pressed down on my chest, but I knew lying in bed wouldn’t do me any good.I wasn’t safe here. My father had to come for me.The thought sent a sharp wave of nausea through me. He had sworn—sworn—on my mother’s grave that he would never pull me back into his world, but his word meant nothing now. Not when Rafael DeLuca had me trapped under his roof, under his control.I sat up, my limbs stiff as I scanned the dimly lit room. It was far too luxurious compared to what I’ve lived with—a soft mattress, silk sheets, an antique chandelier casting golden light across the walls. It wasn’t a prison, but it wasn’t freedom eit
Chapter 4Seraphina's POVI didn’t have to turn around to know it was him. His voice alone was word: the command, the highest authority in the DeLuca mansion. The entire kitchen froze. Adrian straightened slightly, his posture losing its casual edge. The other chefs avoided looking directly at Rafael, suddenly very interested in their tasks.I, on the other hand, kept chewing my spring roll. Rafael’s footsteps were slow, deliberate, predatory. Then he was beside me. I turned my head just enough to meet his gaze. His expression was blank, but his eyes—dark and unreadable—were locked onto me like I was something he needed to fix, or destroy, or both. I swallowed my food, unbothered.“Want one?” I offered the bowl of spring rolls to him however he didn’t move, neither did he act like I existed. Instead, his voice came out low.“You are not a guest here, Seraphina.”The weight of his presence pressed down on me, suffocating and possessive.“You don’t get to wander around like you own the
Seraphina's POV "Significant other?" The words hung in the air between us, sharp and impossible. "What the hell are you talking about?" Rafael's smirk widened, satisfaction gleaming in his dark eyes. He pocketed his phone and the gun with casual ease, as if he hadn't just threatened my life seconds ago. "Your father and I have come to an... arrangement." My stomach dropped. The way he said "arrangement" made my skin crawl. I backed away until my legs hit the edge of the bed. "What kind of arrangement?" Rafael moved to the window, pulling back the curtain to gaze out at the grounds. The evening moon cast half his face in shadow, making him look more dangerous than usual. "Dante Moreau is many things," he said, his voice deceptively calm. "But above all, he's a businessman. And when faced with losing everything..." He turned to me, his eyes cold. "Even he knows when to make a deal." "Stop talking in riddles," I snapped. My patience had evaporated. "Tell me what's happening." H
Seraphina's POVThe mansion was quiet, too quiet. Like the whole bullet spraying did not just happen a few hours ago. However the air was heavy—thick with something unseen, carrying a certain energy. I was heading back to my room when I heard his voice. Rafael. I should’ve kept walking. I should’ve. But something about his tone made my steps halt. I leaned against the doorframe, careful to stay hidden.“…Dante already made his move. He must really love the girl.”My stomach dropped. My father had something to do with the sporadic gunshots earlier. He launched an attack on the biggest mafia in Italy. The realization hit me hard. I clutched my chest, trying to steady my breathing. My father had sent men to shoot up the mansion for me. A part of me had hoped he would come for me. That he wouldn’t just let this happen.But what if someone had died? What if I had died? I swallowed, turned, and left before I could hear anything else.I slammed my door shut and threw myself onto the bed. Th
Chapter 4Seraphina's POVI didn’t have to turn around to know it was him. His voice alone was word: the command, the highest authority in the DeLuca mansion. The entire kitchen froze. Adrian straightened slightly, his posture losing its casual edge. The other chefs avoided looking directly at Rafael, suddenly very interested in their tasks.I, on the other hand, kept chewing my spring roll. Rafael’s footsteps were slow, deliberate, predatory. Then he was beside me. I turned my head just enough to meet his gaze. His expression was blank, but his eyes—dark and unreadable—were locked onto me like I was something he needed to fix, or destroy, or both. I swallowed my food, unbothered.“Want one?” I offered the bowl of spring rolls to him however he didn’t move, neither did he act like I existed. Instead, his voice came out low.“You are not a guest here, Seraphina.”The weight of his presence pressed down on me, suffocating and possessive.“You don’t get to wander around like you own the
Seraphina's POVI woke up to the scent of the ocean, salt and something deeply unfamiliar—the smell of someone else's home. If wishes were granted the moment they were made, this would have been a dream and I'd have been in London, with my students. My body ached, a dull throb lingering in my wrists where Rafael had gripped me the a few days ago. The weight of exhaustion pressed down on my chest, but I knew lying in bed wouldn’t do me any good.I wasn’t safe here. My father had to come for me.The thought sent a sharp wave of nausea through me. He had sworn—sworn—on my mother’s grave that he would never pull me back into his world, but his word meant nothing now. Not when Rafael DeLuca had me trapped under his roof, under his control.I sat up, my limbs stiff as I scanned the dimly lit room. It was far too luxurious compared to what I’ve lived with—a soft mattress, silk sheets, an antique chandelier casting golden light across the walls. It wasn’t a prison, but it wasn’t freedom eit
Seraphina's POVI didn't flinch when his fingers brushed my jaw, but it took everything in me to stay still. To not let him see the way my skin crawled under his touch.Raphael Deluca, I'd be stupid if I claimed I didn't know that name.Every whisper of his empire, every bloody rumor attached to it-it all came crashing into my mind like a violent wave. My father's sworn enemy. The man who ruled the underworld with an iron grip, and now, the man who had me trapped in his grasp.My heart pounded, but I forced my expression to remain blank. "If you think you can use me against my father, you're wasting your time."His lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. More like a predator baring its teeth. "Oh, I disagree. See, Dante Moreau may have let you go, however, you are his flesh and blood. He won't let you rot in my hands, no matter how far you've tried to run."I swallowed hard, my stomach twisting. He was not wrong. My father would come for me and that's what I feared: he w
Seraphina's POVThe final note lingered in the air, delicate yet powerful, the last whisper of a story told through my fingertips to the crowd. My hands rested on the piano keys, my chest rising and falling as the thunderous applause filled the concert hall. I was content.I stood, offering a small bow, my face carefully composed despite the rush of emotions beneath my skin. This was my world now—music, art, creation. Not the shadows I was born into.I stepped off the stage, my black satin dress flowing with each movement, and made my way toward the side exit for a breath of fresh air. The look in the eyes of the people I came across gladdened my heart. They looked like they were proud of me, like I was a star. The air outside was crisp, a contrast to the warmth of the hall, and I let out a slow exhale, the tension melting from my shoulders.Tonight had been perfect. Almost surreal.As I leaned against the cool stone wall, my phone buzzed in my clutch. A message from Ava, one of my yo