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°SERENA° "Who are you?" I whispered to the man before me. He didn’t answer. Instead, his gaze flickered around, scanning the surroundings. Maybe he hadn’t heard me. Now that I looked at him properly, he didn’t seem like a goon. But then again, what if goons had gotten more professional—wearing suits, looking sharp? "You’re Serena, right?" His voice suddenly cut through the silence, startling me. I didn’t respond. Should I? He took my silence as confirmation. "Come with me." My body caught up with my brain in an instant. I yanked my hand away. "Who are you?" I demanded again, this time louder. He sighed. He sighed? What the hell. He was the one trying to kidnap me. "I’m Fred," he said. "Adrian’s friend." Adrian’s friend? That meant he sent him. But wait—where was Tim? "No, you’re lying. Adrian wouldn’t send you. It was someone else," I argued. "You mean Timothy?" Fred’s expression remained unreadable. "Yeah, he was on his way, but I was closer." He knows Ti
°ADRIAN° The room fell into stunned silence. Every pair of eyes, wide with disbelief, turned toward Serena—including mine. The only one who seemed unfazed was Fred, the bastard, smirking like he had been waiting for this moment. Because Serena—who had spent the entire evening looking like half dead, drained and fragile—had just snapped. And fuck, if that wasn’t the most satisfying thing I had seen all night. A strange sensation curled in my chest. Amusement, pride—something else. She had just called out Elder Royce, and I doubted she even realized who she had just talked back to. "You," Elder Royce said, his voice dropping an octave, his sharp eyes narrowing at her. "What did you say?" Serena straightened her posture, her grip tightening around the chair. "Yes, it's your fault," she repeated, her voice steadier this time. "Adrian just came back—it hasn’t even been a month—so if there’s blame to be placed, it’s yours." A slow smile curled my lips. This little gold digger.
°ADRIAN° Once again standing before this house, I felt nothing but a cold dismay wash over me. The mansion loomed, carved in the same grandeur that once terrified me as a boy. Its ivy-draped walls stood like old gods watching over the sins they once bore witness to, silent and unmoved. Its towering gates creaked open with a reluctant groan, and the familiar crunch of gravel beneath my shoes sent a chill up my spine. The air was stiff with aged roses, the kind my mother used to place on the dining table, back when silence hadn’t yet swallowed every space whole. “Shall we go inside, sir?” Timothy’s voice, calm and quiet, broke the spell. He stood respectfully beside me, dressed impeccably, though I knew his eyes were on me more than the door. I nodded once. Or forced myself to. Still, my feet stayed frozen to the ground. The wind shifted. Not strong—but enough to rustle the leaves, to carry the whispers of the past straight into my bones. I was no longer the trembling boy be
°ADRIAN° “You will speak, Evelyn, or I will make sure your silence costs you everything.” My grandfather’s voice thundered again, shaking the walls with its wrath. Evelyn’s lips trembled, but she said nothing. Not another word. The air grew heavy—thick with unspoken truths. I could hear my own breath, shallow and uneven, battling the quiet that now felt louder than any scream. And suddenly, justice didn’t feel like justice anymore. It felt like heartbreak—dressed in the finest robe of truth—standing before me, unforgiving. I wasn’t just here to avenge my mother anymore. Now I had to ask myself a question I never thought I would— Had I ever truly known the woman I loved? “Charles Cooper,” Evelyn finally whispered. My head snapped toward her, eyes narrowed, heart pounding so loud it echoed in my ears. “Remember why your mother was hospitalized?” she said, her voice like a blade sliding through silk. “Because he poisoned her.” The room went still. My breath caugh
°SERENA° I waited. Every tick of the clock was a hammer against my chest. Today was his day—Adrian’s moment to finally expose the rotting truth buried in his family’s legacy. To drag it all out into the light and put an end to the years of silence and pain. He'd seemed calm this morning, eerily composed. But I knew better. I’d learned the language of his silence—the slight clench of his jaw, the way his eyes refused to settle, the rigid calm he wore like armor. Adrian’s relationship with pain was like his shadow—always there, never fully seen. And something about that stillness unsettled me. He wasn’t okay. Time trickled by. I kept glancing at the door, expecting to hear footsteps, a knock, something. But the hours crawled forward and still, no sign of him. He should have let me come with him. I told him I should have gone. What if the truth got twisted again? What if those people—his blood, his enemies—found a new way to spin the lies? What if his fury, raw and just, was
°SERENA° "Adrian, please… just look at me." But he doesn’t. His eyes stay locked on the floor like it’s safer there—like if he dares to meet mine, he’ll fall apart. His posture rigid, fists clenched, his chest rising and falling with staggered breaths. He looks calm from a distance, but I know him better than that. I can feel the war inside him. "I'm not my father," I whisper, barely audible. "You know that, don't you?" A hollow, bitter laugh slips from his lips. It cuts deeper than silence. Like it was pulled from a place inside him that’s long been bleeding. "I don't know anything anymore, Serena." "You know me." My voice trembles. "You listened to me when no one else did. You saw parts of me I never showed anyone. Did you forget all that?" His head lifts slowly, like it takes everything in him to meet my gaze. His eyes are bloodshot, swollen with grief, and when they finally meet mine—something inside me breaks. It feels like glass shattering in my chest. "I don’t wa
°ADRIAN° The door closed with a soft thud. Almost fragile. But it echoed like a gunshot in my skull. She left. And once again, what should’ve felt like a home felt like a mausoleum. Just blocks of bricks and the ghosts of her laughter echoing through the silence. My fingers curled into fists at my sides. I hadn’t moved from where I stood—hadn’t dared. My chest felt hollow, like something had been ripped out of me. A vacuum. A space where love used to live. I let her go. No—worse. I asked her to leave. I told her it was for the best. That I was a mess. But the truth is… I didn’t know what else to do. And now the air reeked of her absence. Her scent still clung to the couch where she curled up with her books. Her favorite sweater still hung off the chair, half-folded. And the food she cooked... it sat on the table. Untouched. Growing cold. She hadn’t eaten. And I pushed her out anyway. Where would she go? To her father? The man who poisoned her. The sa
°EVELYN° Adrian Royce. The Royce heir stood before me—just as he had five years ago—unflinching, unreadable, and devastatingly composed. But he wasn’t the same boy I once pitied. No. That shattered boy with a broken spine was long gone. In his place stood a man carved from silence and sharpened by betrayal. And in his eyes, I saw every secret I thought I had buried claw its way back to the surface. Was this the reckoning I had feared? The collapse of everything I had built with blood, deception, and a twisted kind of love? He didn’t speak. Just walked in with the quiet arrogance of someone who owned the air I breathed—like he knew exactly what it cost me to stand tall. Behind him, that bastard friend of his carried the file—that file—the one that should’ve remained ash and dust. Five years of silence, and still, Adrian found a way to exhume the corpses I buried with trembling hands. I shouldn’t have arranged his marriage. Not to Serena. It was Anna who was meant for
°SERENA° “SERENA!” Cassandra’s scream rang through the cold stone halls, but before I could answer, rough fingers latched onto my arm—tight, urgent. I knew from the grip, from the sheer force, that it was a man. Instinct took over. I clenched the small knife she’d slipped into my hand earlier, spun, and slashed hard. My blade met flesh, and a choked gasp followed. Warm blood sprayed across my skin. A vein. I’d aimed for it. This would weaken Victor. It had to. We needed just enough time— “Ah… Serena!” That voice. My heart skipped and I turned sharply, breath caught in my throat. “Fred?” I gasped. His eyes were wide with pain, his hand clutched tight, blood flowing between his fingers like a river he couldn’t stop. My stomach dropped. Shit. What have I done? “Shit! Why did you grab me?” I was at his side before I finished speaking, panic clawing at my throat. He winced, and I didn’t wait—I tore a strip from my shirt, the fabric protesting with each tug. My f
°SERENA° Victor didn’t respond to my insult. Not with words. Just his eyes—sharp as shattered ice, cold as steel, burning with fury. He stared at me like I was the last stain on his empire, and he was ready to scrub me off the face of the world. But only if staring could kill. “I’ll let you think about obedience,” he muttered, snatching up his phone. “Maybe the next time I walk through that door, you’ll have learned your place.” He turned. Walked. The door creaked—slow, deliberate. Then slammed. The sound ripped through the room like a gunshot. And then, silence. Not peace. Never peace. But a tense, eerie quiet clung to the air like smoke after a blaze—thick, choking, haunted. Still, for the first time since I was dragged into this nightmare, I wasn’t afraid of the silence. I welcomed it. I exhaled—slow, shaky. My lungs trembled like they were just relearning how to breathe, my chest sore as if someone had punched the life out of me and left behind an ache n
°SERENA° I woke up with a sharp jolt, my head dizzy and heavy, as if it had been struck by a hammer. My eyes fluttered open, but the world spun in a blur. Where am I? Last I remembered, I was with Tim. We were supposed to go to Nina’s house. I could still feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, the laughter in the air as we joked about old memories... But now? Now, I was here. I blinked, trying to adjust to the dim light filtering through cracked windows. The room smelled musty, like damp wood and stale air. My fingers tingled from the tightness of the ropes around my wrists, and my legs were bound just as tightly to the legs of the chair. The cold wood beneath me seemed to seep through my clothes, making my skin crawl. How did I end up here? Why am I here? Panic started to claw at my chest as I tugged at the ropes, the rough fibers scraping against my skin. My heart hammered in my chest, every beat a reminder that I was trapped. I tried to recall how I got to this hellish p
°ADRIAN° "Yes. And it begins with—" My phone rang. A shrill, stabbing sound that cut through the room like a blade. I stopped mid-sentence, breath caught mid-chest. Fuck. Annoyed, I pulled it from my pocket—half-ready to snap at whoever dared to— Then the world dropped out from under me. Victor’s face filled the screen. Smiling. No—grinning, smug and twisted, like he’d won a game I didn’t even know we were still playing. His eyes sparkled with something feral, something unholy. Then the camera tilted. My heart turned to stone. Serena. Tied to a chair. Hair clinging to her face, her lips cracked, trembling. A bruise darkened one cheek—deep, fresh. Like someone had slammed their palm across her face. "Adrian..." she whispered. And I couldn’t breathe. Air wouldn’t come. My lungs were locked in ice. He hit her? HE FUCKING HIT HER? My hands clenched around the phone, trembling with barely controlled violence. I could feel the heat rise up my neck, my chest—
°EVELYN° Adrian Royce. The Royce heir stood before me—just as he had five years ago—unflinching, unreadable, and devastatingly composed. But he wasn’t the same boy I once pitied. No. That shattered boy with a broken spine was long gone. In his place stood a man carved from silence and sharpened by betrayal. And in his eyes, I saw every secret I thought I had buried claw its way back to the surface. Was this the reckoning I had feared? The collapse of everything I had built with blood, deception, and a twisted kind of love? He didn’t speak. Just walked in with the quiet arrogance of someone who owned the air I breathed—like he knew exactly what it cost me to stand tall. Behind him, that bastard friend of his carried the file—that file—the one that should’ve remained ash and dust. Five years of silence, and still, Adrian found a way to exhume the corpses I buried with trembling hands. I shouldn’t have arranged his marriage. Not to Serena. It was Anna who was meant for
°ADRIAN° The door closed with a soft thud. Almost fragile. But it echoed like a gunshot in my skull. She left. And once again, what should’ve felt like a home felt like a mausoleum. Just blocks of bricks and the ghosts of her laughter echoing through the silence. My fingers curled into fists at my sides. I hadn’t moved from where I stood—hadn’t dared. My chest felt hollow, like something had been ripped out of me. A vacuum. A space where love used to live. I let her go. No—worse. I asked her to leave. I told her it was for the best. That I was a mess. But the truth is… I didn’t know what else to do. And now the air reeked of her absence. Her scent still clung to the couch where she curled up with her books. Her favorite sweater still hung off the chair, half-folded. And the food she cooked... it sat on the table. Untouched. Growing cold. She hadn’t eaten. And I pushed her out anyway. Where would she go? To her father? The man who poisoned her. The sa
°SERENA° "Adrian, please… just look at me." But he doesn’t. His eyes stay locked on the floor like it’s safer there—like if he dares to meet mine, he’ll fall apart. His posture rigid, fists clenched, his chest rising and falling with staggered breaths. He looks calm from a distance, but I know him better than that. I can feel the war inside him. "I'm not my father," I whisper, barely audible. "You know that, don't you?" A hollow, bitter laugh slips from his lips. It cuts deeper than silence. Like it was pulled from a place inside him that’s long been bleeding. "I don't know anything anymore, Serena." "You know me." My voice trembles. "You listened to me when no one else did. You saw parts of me I never showed anyone. Did you forget all that?" His head lifts slowly, like it takes everything in him to meet my gaze. His eyes are bloodshot, swollen with grief, and when they finally meet mine—something inside me breaks. It feels like glass shattering in my chest. "I don’t wa
°SERENA° I waited. Every tick of the clock was a hammer against my chest. Today was his day—Adrian’s moment to finally expose the rotting truth buried in his family’s legacy. To drag it all out into the light and put an end to the years of silence and pain. He'd seemed calm this morning, eerily composed. But I knew better. I’d learned the language of his silence—the slight clench of his jaw, the way his eyes refused to settle, the rigid calm he wore like armor. Adrian’s relationship with pain was like his shadow—always there, never fully seen. And something about that stillness unsettled me. He wasn’t okay. Time trickled by. I kept glancing at the door, expecting to hear footsteps, a knock, something. But the hours crawled forward and still, no sign of him. He should have let me come with him. I told him I should have gone. What if the truth got twisted again? What if those people—his blood, his enemies—found a new way to spin the lies? What if his fury, raw and just, was
°ADRIAN° “You will speak, Evelyn, or I will make sure your silence costs you everything.” My grandfather’s voice thundered again, shaking the walls with its wrath. Evelyn’s lips trembled, but she said nothing. Not another word. The air grew heavy—thick with unspoken truths. I could hear my own breath, shallow and uneven, battling the quiet that now felt louder than any scream. And suddenly, justice didn’t feel like justice anymore. It felt like heartbreak—dressed in the finest robe of truth—standing before me, unforgiving. I wasn’t just here to avenge my mother anymore. Now I had to ask myself a question I never thought I would— Had I ever truly known the woman I loved? “Charles Cooper,” Evelyn finally whispered. My head snapped toward her, eyes narrowed, heart pounding so loud it echoed in my ears. “Remember why your mother was hospitalized?” she said, her voice like a blade sliding through silk. “Because he poisoned her.” The room went still. My breath caugh