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Seraphina POV
I stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror in my dressing room, staring at myself as I was draped in an emerald dress, my hair was swept up in a sleek, tight bun that pulled at my scalp, and my face was painted to perfection by my makeup artists. It was so slick enough to cover the dark-eyed bruise on my left eye and the purple coloured bruise at my right jawline from three days ago.
I looked every bit the supermodel that everyone admired, every bit the kind of woman every woman has wanted to become and the kind of woman every man wanted to have.
Seraphina, the most beautiful supermodel in America. The one whose long legs made heads turn, the one whose eyes made everyone crave for her touch, the one whose smell was enough to make anyone cower, she married the most perfect man in the world who spoiled her rotten. How can one woman have it all? A perfect marriage, perfect life, perfect in-laws...she must have been such a good person in her past life.
That was the story everyone knew but that was not who I was. All the headlines ready to praise me, ready to cower at me, they didn't know the whole story.
"You look breathtaking, Seraphina," a voice purred from the doorway and I didn't have to turn around to know it was my husband's; Maximillian. Only his presence alone made the air in the room turn cold and there was sudden tightness in my stomach, my entire being suddenly switching into the 'guard mode' hoping I don't get on his nerves before I walked out the door.
He stood behind me, his reflection in the mirror towering above mine, showing off his perfect handsome face, his navy blue tailored suit shining to signal the powerful aura he exuded. He was indeed the most powerful man on world. His hands slid over my shoulders, leaning down to place a peck on my collar, nibbling softly and my skin seemed to crawl until I ended up wincing at the same time.
He removed his mouth and there was a blooming hickey sitting over there beautifully on my white skin. "There you go, this compliments your look better." He said clasping his hands over my waistline. "You look more beautiful with my hickey on you." He whispered leaning closely.
I smiled trying so hard to quell the numbness that skidded over my stomach.
"The gala tonight is important." He whispered into my ear, "The investors want to see the face of the Thorne Industries. They want to see my beautiful loyal wife. Do you understand what that means for us?’’
I nodded. He was sounding soft but he didn't mean soft, he was sounding a warning, one wrong move and I would have myself to blame if he went berserk afterwards.
Panic settled into my stomach. The type that indicates behave or you will get more than burnt tonight, Maximillian won't waste a minute getting in our way if I ruin tonight for him.
"I understand Max," I said and he smiled brightly to show his perfect set of teeth.
"Good." He said before his grip on me tightened on my shoulders, his fingers digging into my soft skin just enough to cause pain, "And try to look happy, you have everything any woman could ever dream of. Don't make me remind you of how lucky you are."
He kissed my cheek and walked out while I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, my hands shaking. I reached for my silk clutch on the vanity, but my eyes caught the small faded tattoo on the side of my ribcage peeking out from the side of my designer gown. It was a tiny bird, half-hidden by a scar from a C-section I had undergone six years ago.
I made my way downstairs, my 5-inch heels clicking against the marble floors as I moved, I hadn't even reached the grand foyer when I heard Cassandra's voice;
"Late again," she snapped, not looking up from her phone. She was my sister-in-law and the youngest in the family, she was dressed in a gown that she had wrestled over with me simply because my model body fitted the dress more than it suited her. "As a supermodel, don't you think you should always know how to keep a schedule instead of letting all of us wait on you every time?” She said before she could even hide her jealousy, her eyes skirting over my dress.
"I’m sorry, Cassandra," I said automatically.
"You are always sorry." My mother-in-law, Mrs Thorne chipped in immediately as she walked out of the dining room, she looked at me with pure disgust, "You didn't see anything else to wear except that."
Lucius, my middle brother-in-law, smirked. I hadn't noticed him until then. He was standing by the doorway, his eyes traveling over me. "She wants to show off the tattoo on her ribcage. We see that."
"When she hasn't even told anyone how she got that scar she kept covering with a tattoo." Cyrus, the eldest brother and also my brother-in-law, came in from nowhere draped in a black suit, "Did she tell you?" He asked directing the question to Maximillian who didn't even bother looking away from his phone for a minute from where he sat with his legs crossed on the leather couch.
"The kind of life she must've heard got her that scar." Cassandra said with disgust, "The poor slum girls engage in anything that's worth money, so I heard."
"It would be so much better if I understood why Maximillian married her,” Cyrus said for more than the hundredth time since I was married to his brother, his eyes raking over me.
"He called it love." Mrs Thorne chipped in and everyone sighed in disappointment while my heart sank even lower.
"Do you...you want me to change the dress?" I asked, as if that seemed to solve the issue of the bickering.
"Why?" Lucius chipped in, "You absolutely look dead gorgeous in it. Don't mind what they're saying, I personally like you dressed like this."
Max finally looked up, "Luce, I've told you to stop ogling at my wife, haven't I?" He said finally getting interested in my presence.
"When is the bodyguard getting here? We don't want to be late for that gala." Max said as soon as he looked away from me, his eyes fixated on his expensive billion-dollar watch.
"New bodyguard?" Cyrus asked while Max nodded his head. "What about Calus?"
"The old one is a bit clumsy, poking his nose everywhere he's not supposed to,” Max said, his eyes on me like I'm the reason he took extreme measures towards me.
My breath sank. So, Calus has been fired? And a new bodyguard has been appointed. Calux was the bodyguard I always liked and we got along secretly.
Three days ago, he had helped me clean a wound, and Max had been furious. He had accused me of cheating, which explained the bruised eye and jaw my makeup artist had worked so hard to hide.
"I think he's here." I heard Cassandra say before a heavy-bodied man, broad, muscular, intimidating, filling up the room before he could even announce himself but my breath seemed to catch when I saw his face. Killian??
The mansion did not sleep that night. Though everything seemed calm on the surface, every corridor felt alive with invisible movement, as if the building itself knew that something irreversible was brewing within. Seraphina noticed it in the smallest details: the way the staff spoke more quietly, the way security rotated more frequently, even how silence itself seemed monitored.Maya had been put to bed early. Seraphina stayed with her until she fell asleep, holding her hand longer than necessary, as if letting go would somehow confirm that everything beyond that room was real.Now she stood in the hallway outside Maya’s door, watching it closely. Killian approached silently from behind. “She’s asleep,” he said quietly. Seraphina nodded without turning. “I know,” she replied. Then Killian spoke again, his voice even lower: “The statement will go out within the hour.”Seraphina finally turned to him. Her expression
The gates closed behind the last vehicle with a finality that felt less like safety and more like a pause between pressures. The mansion did not return to peace, for peace had become something none of them trusted anymore. It simply settled into stillness—the kind that waits to be shattered again.Seraphina stayed inside with Maya long after Dante confirmed the withdrawal. She kept her daughter close, her hand resting lightly on the child’s back, as if she could physically anchor her away from everything that had just unfolded beyond the walls.Maya had drifted into a quiet half-sleep, her breathing slow and even, unaware of how much the world around her had shifted. Seraphina remained motionless.She couldn’t decide whether the worst part was the visit itself or the fact that it had ended without resolution. Nothing about Dominic Cross felt like an ending; everything about him seemed like a beginning that only pretended to pause.Footst
The moment Killian’s words echoed beyond the gates, the atmosphere shifted in an unmistakable way. It was neither loud nor explosive, yet it was absolute—like a line had been drawn that no amount of legal jargon or media presence could casually cross. The lawyer standing closest to him adjusted his stance, clearly unsettled by the calm refusal.“You are making a serious mistake,” the man said carefully. “This is a lawful request backed by international media oversight and pending verification authority from the Cross estate.”Killian did not respond immediately. He simply looked at him, and that silence carried more weight than any raised voice could. Behind them, cameras remained fixed, capturing every second of the standoff. Reporters were beginning to sense that this was no ordinary corporate dispute—it was something more personal, more controlled, and far more dangerous.Finally, Killian spoke. “A mistake,&rdqu
The silence inside the mansion did not last; it never truly did anymore. Seraphina stood near the entrance to the living room, Maya still in her arms, feeling the child’s breathing slowly even out again as she drifted between wakefulness and sleep. The house felt tighter now, as if the walls had become aware of what was approaching and were bracing themselves.Killian was already moving—but shifting into something colder, more precise, as if every part of him had been trained for moments exactly like this. Dante’s voice came through the secured line again.“They are outside the perimeter,” he said. “Two legal teams, one press convoy, and private security vehicles. They are requesting formal entry under emergency verification protocol.”Seraphina’s fingers tightened slightly against Maya’s back. Killian did not look at her when he spoke. “They will not enter the house,” he said.Dante paused
The enforcement order arrived not with noise or spectacle, but with a quiet digital confirmation that every Cross Empire system immediately recognized as a point of no return. Within seconds, Dante confirmed that multiple international jurisdictions had acknowledged Dominic Cross’s petition, signifying that external legal authority was no longer just threatening entry but was preparing coordinated procedural enforcement capable of entirely overriding private containment if compliance was not met.Seraphina sensed it before anyone spoke aloud—the atmosphere in the mansion shifted, not with sound, but with a palpable sense of inevitability. Maya felt it too, in her own quiet way, staying close to Seraphina without asking questions, as if even she understood that seeking answers was becoming dangerous.Killian moved first—not toward the door or the window, but toward Dante. When he spoke, his voice was controlled yet absolute as he ordered the immediate
The silence inside the mansion did not last long enough to feel like rest; the world outside showed no pause for hesitation. The first official confirmation of Dominic Cross’s emergency injunction reached international courts before Dante had even completed his second verification cycle. This transformed what had been an internal escalation into a globally visible legal confrontation, instantly reframing Killian Cross’s authority, Seraphina’s presence, and Maya’s identity as contested subjects under formal review.Seraphina noticed the change first in Dante’s expression rather than on any screen. When he stiffened near the doorway, she immediately understood that the threshold they had been standing on had been crossed without their consent. When he finally spoke, he confirmed that the injunction had been accepted for a preliminary hearing under expedited jurisdiction—meaning external oversight had entered their space in a manner that could no longer be ignored or contained b







