LOGINZerina's POV
The gate creaked loudly behind me as I stepped into the compound of the mansion that has never felt like home.
I was shivering so much, my clothes stuck to me like a second skin. It was torn at the hem and in places I don't want to think about. My feet were bare and cold, and aching from walking home. I still held my soaked shoes in my hands.
Every step echoed in the marble hallway, a cruel reminder that I've always been alone in a house filled with people who did nothing but hate me.
As I reached the main hall, I did all I've always done—hold my breath. I know they must be here waiting.
I first saw her luxury red chiffon dress. She was sitting quietly like a predator out for a hunt.
"Oh, look who finally decided to crawl back in," my stepmother snapped, her voice sharp and sweet. It reminded me of poisoned honey.
I lifted my head slowly, still shivering from the cold and now maybe fear. There she was —Florence. She was perfectly dressed in the chiffon dress, glass of red wine in hand. Her legs crossed while her eyes narrowed with disgust as they raked my body—from my torn red dress to my dirty little bare feet.
"Where are you coming from?" She spat, setting her wine down as she stood up gracefully as always. She approached me slowly like I'm a prey she has finally caught for a little midnight snack. Her heels clicked against the tiles. Each step made me scared. "Were you out whoring yourself again, huh? It must be nice spreading those legs wide. Wasn't it?"
"I didn't ..I wasn't — " My voice cracked. I couldn't look directly into her eyes. I kept bowing my head down.
"You didn't what? Didn't mean to look like a filthy tramp?" She hissed, circling me. My eyes kept following her every move. I was ready just incase she brought out her whip. It always landed on my back whether I was ready or not and I don't know how she was so swift. The pain was the only thing I felt before I even saw the whip.
"You reek of alcohol and do I smell cum? Hahaha." She threw her head back and laughed contentedly. " Look at you. Who would have expected such from you? What decent man would want someone like you? What decent man would have stooped so low to want you?”
I clenched my jaw and stared at my reflection from the mirrored tiles on the floor. Yeah, she is right. What decent man would ever want me? My skin felt raw, burning under her words. I was ashamed that she was right.
"Honestly, I really don't know why you are still here," she continued, voice rising above normal. "You should be out there, in the gutters where you belong—where you've always belonged. Not under this roof with my daughter and I."
"Mother, what happened to her dress?" Bianca's voice chimed in from the staircase. "It's practically see through and why is it torn at those places, Zerina? Were you trying hard to get the attention of my Dave? That's so embarrassing."
My teeth clenched at the mention of Dave's name. I raised my head and glared at her.
She laughed, softly and so free. Walking up to me in silk shorts and a cropped pajamas top. Her arms folded while she smirked at me like she was watching a scene she'd paid for. I felt betrayed. Not because she had slept with Dave and wasn't sorry about it, but because she knew how much I loved him and how he meant so much to me.
She was in her high fluffy bunny slippers so she was a little bit taller than me. "What were you doing, Zerina?" She taunted. "Why were you acting all innocent when you came over to Dave's house? As if you didn't know I was to become his fiancee?
My eyes widened. I stopped breathing. "How and when did this happen?"
She laughed. "Oh, I struck a nerve."
My chest tightened. I shook my head severally in disbelief. "No, no, please tell me it's not true. Please."
I dropped my shoes to the ground and squeezed the hem of my soaked dress. It can't be true, right? Dave can't be my sister's fiance. And even if he was he would've told me.
"Dave accepted daddy's proposal to marry me so that the company will be in partnership with the Luciano's. So yeah, I would no longer be called a Bradford soon but a Luciano. How does that sound, sis? Bianca Luciano. "She giggled and stared off like she was in some fantasy island while I was still in my island of disbelief.
" Please, stop saying those things, Bianca," I pleaded. " Please"
" My daughter will not stop," Florence said with a laugh before she looked at her daughter with proud admiration. Her facial expression changed to that of disgust when she turned to me. "You don't get to shut my daughter up, bitch. She's going to be the future of Luciano's and Bradford being one while you—you will always be the useless person you've always been."
Footsteps echoed. The air changed and I shivered from great fear this time. I know those footsteps, and learnt the sounds of them.
" What's going on here?"
Father's voice boomed from the hall.
My body froze.
I first saw his silver hair before his face. I've always loved those silver hair. They looked like they were not of this world.
He entered the room, his face stern. His suit looked exquisite in his talk lean form. His eyes scanned me, stepmother and Bianca.
Bianca sniffed and my head turned to her already knowing what she was about to do. Play the victim card.
She burst into tears. Her acting was top-notch. It was always like that. On cue.
"Daddy," she sobbed, running into his arms. "Zerina is trying to destroy my relationship with Dave. She came over to his house dressed like that!"
Father's eyes were on me again. The anger that reflected on them made me terrorized. "What?"
"She knows you want me to marry him," she sniffled into his chest. "She's been flirting with him behind my back. Just today.." She paused as if what she was about to say was unbelievable even to her. "Just today, she didn't know I was with Dave and she came to flirt with him, dad. The worst part is, she was dressed like this."
Bianca pointed at me.
"Zerina!!!"
'No father, that's a lie. A bold, stinging line. '
I chanted in my head but I couldn't firm the words with my mouth. I didn't speak. I couldn't.
Florence's eyes were watching me with a hidden warning. And I knew the consequences if I dared to defend myself.
Father walked to me, fury darkening his gaze. "Is that true?"
My mouth opened. Nothing came out. I shut it back and brought my head down staring down at my feet.
He stepped closer. "Answer my question"
Slowly, I lifted up my head. My eyes finally met with that of my dad's. He has never treated me right. They all have always treated me like I was some unfortunate misfortune. For some reason, I don't know why I still stick here with them. I still stayed despite the hurt, despite the pain they made me pass through. Maybe a part of me wanted them to acknowledge me as their daughter so we can live that happy family life I've always fantasized about. Can the universe be that good?
I was mute. I tried opening my mouth to speak. Nothing came out. I could barely breathe now. Florence's eyes were watching, daring me to defend myself.
"Don't keep mute when I ask you a question, Zerina. You weren't born dumb. Use your tongue before I cut it off for you since it's useless."
Father's voice was sharper and scarier making me flinch. Still shivering, I tried to talk.
"Dave—Dave and I have been dating for a year plus but.. but today I found .." I croaked, trying to keep the tears in as the images crashed in my head. ".. I found Bianca having sex with him."
The slap came fast. I was actually expecting it but it came before I could even prepare myself for the pain. My face snapped sideways from the force of it. My cheek throbbed and my lips split. Blood gushed out and I couldn't hold my tears from falling. My vision blurred. I didn't flinch , I was already getting used to it.
A year ago, I would've tried to fight back. Now I know one thing, speaking up made it worse. So now, I let the sting of the slap settle on my cheek.
Father's face was livid in anger. He was scarier than ever . I stood still while my heart raced .
"How dare you say such a thing against Bianca?" His voice boomed. "You will stay away from Dave. If Bianca so much as mentions your name and Dave's in the same sentence, you will regret it."
I nodded. Of course I nodded. What else was I supposed to do? It would be better I adhered to his instructions than receive more punishment for someone that doesn't deserve it.
Florence stepped forward, looking at me with that kind pity she always feigned when Father was around. She loved this part. My humiliation. Their victory.
"Honey," she signed heavily. "I think a little bit of time in 'the room' will make her understand better. Let her understand that this family will do everything to bring up moral children that don't flirt with their sister's fiancee."
My eyes widened at the mention of 'the room'.
"No, please, no!!" I cried out.
In an instant, my knees were on the ground. "Please, father, I beg you. Don't let them take me to that room. I can do any other punishment. I can vacuum the entire house, wash dishes. Anything but please, not that room. Father, please."
I begged not minding my state or how I've lost all the composure I never had.
"Don!!" He called one of the guards that came in with him. "Take her there." His voice was final.
"No, no, please, no." My tears flowed freely down my face. I crawled closer to my father's feet. I couldn't even reach his legs when I was grabbed from behind.
"I beg you please, don't do this to me, " I screamed. "I don't like that room, Father. Florence please."
I choked on my tears as my words fell on deaf ears.
My heart was already exhausted from the ridiculous jogging torture Lysander had forced me through earlier, yet somehow it began beating even faster. I didn’t even understand how that was possible. It was as if the poor thing had decided to abandon all logic and simply sprint toward its own destruction. Before I even realized what he was doing, Lysander suddenly moved. One second I was standing there, still catching my breath from running, and the next I felt a sudden sting at my wrist as his hand caught it. Everything happened far too quickly. His shadow fell over me. His other hand rose to my face. Then his lips were on mine. Warm. Firm. Brief. So brief that by the time my brain understood what had happened, it was already over. The kiss lasted barely a moment but it was enough for my head to be filled with torrents of memories rushing back in. The way I’d felt that night. My hot flushed body. Gosh, Zerina. Get a hold of yourself. These memories left my entire world spinning.M
Zerina’s Point Of View When I woke up, the sky outside was still dim and grey. For a moment I simply blinked up at the ceiling, trying to understand where I was and why my body felt so warm and comfortable. Then my memory slowly returned. Right… I had been reading while waiting for Lysander. My eyes widened. Wait. WAIT. “Oh my God…” I gasped and shot upright in bed. “Did I seriously fall asleep?!” Panic flooded my system instantly. I whipped my head around the room, searching for any sign of him. There was nothing. No tall, dark, terrifyingly handsome man leaning against the wall. No dangerous presence sitting by the bed. He wasn’t here. “Was he downstairs the whole time?” I muttered nervously. Or had he come in… seen me sleeping… and just left? My stomach twisted. What time was it?! I scrambled across the bed, nearly face-planting on the mattress as I grabbed my phone from the bedside table. The moment I saw the time, my eyes almost popped out of my head. Morning. I
Author’s Point of ViewZero a did not quite know what emotion she was supposed to feel after hearing his explanation. “A-an unripe fruit? Excuse me? Who does he think he—” “Shh… Go upstairs now.”The warmth that had briefly shimmered in his gaze faded, replaced by a cold, shadowed chill that settled over him like dusk swallowing light. Zerina understood in that instant that she should not push him any further. Still, she could not help the agitation rising within her. Being likened to a fruit was one thing—but an unripe fruit? That comparison bruised her pride. She puffed out her cheeks in protest and lifted her foot as if to stomp, but before doing so, she shot him a glare meant to convey her displeasure at being compared to an inanimate object. Fortunately for her, she was already halfway up the stairs—yes, she deliberately chose the staircase instead of the elevator mostly because she didn’t want to be reminded of her trauma and also, so she could imagine stepping on his fa
Lysander set Zerina down gently at the foot of the ladder. He turned toward her afterward and said, “I’ll climb down first. Make sure you grip the ladder properly so the wind doesn’t sweep you away again.” His voice almost carried a trace of concern, yet a sly, dangerous smile curved his lips as he spoke those words. He descended swiftly, and the instant his shoes touched the solid ground below, he tilted his head upward and gestured for her to come down. Zerina swallowed nervously. It had been simple when she climbed up earlier, but now that she was looking down from that height, fear crept into her chest. Fortunately, seeing Lysander waiting beneath her steadied her racing heart. She placed her foot on the first rung, and Lysander immediately noticed the faint tremor in her legs. His posture stiffened as he became alert. This girl was truly unbelievable. How could she speak so boldly and act so fearless, yet tremble over something like this? As Zerina carefully made her way d
Author’s Point Of ViewZerina stared at him as though he had suddenly sprouted another head. “Do something thrilling? What could possibly be more thrilling than watching the sky from up here?” she asked, honestly bewildered. To her, this was already more than enough. She couldn’t imagine anything surpassing this moment—climbing onto the rooftop, resting in her boyfriend’s arms, and admiring the soft, fading colors of the evening sky as they slowly dissolved into grey. It felt like a dream fulfilled, the very peak of romance. Yet a doubt crept in. Perhaps for someone like him—someone who had traveled far, who had seen the world in ways she hadn’t—this might not be extraordinary at all. Lysander’s smirk deepened, sharpening at the edges, and something wicked flickered in his eyes. Without warning, he pushed himself up and twisted his body, shifting so that in the next instant he was half draped over her. His gaze gleamed with dark amusement as he looked down at her, trapping her b
Author’s Point Of View Lysander stood there in complete silence, staring at Zerina as though she had just spoken in a language he did not understand. For a long moment, he truly did not move. He had implied enough. Any other woman would have caught on immediately. Any other woman would have smirked, teased, pushed the tension further. But not Zerina. This little wife had simply declared that she would “work hard” without even knowing what he meant. This foolish little wife… A muscle ticked in his jaw. She had already forgotten the very first warning he had ever given her — to think before she spoke. To understand the weight of her own words. Yet here she was, offering herself into an agreement she barely comprehended. And the worst part? She looked so serious about it. He exhaled slowly through his nose. He only hoped she would not back out of their arrangement later. Because if she did… if she tried to run from something she had willingly stepped into… His gaze d
Author's Point Of View Instead of returning to her room, Zerina wandered the third floor like a lost spirit. She sat in the shared lounge, gazing through the tall glass windows until boredom tugged at her. Eventually, she stepped into the balcony, seeking a better view of the sunset. The sky was
Author's Point of View"No," was yet again, his solid answer. He really couldn't believe this girl at all. He predicted it would be something silly but she surprised him by jumping into another dimension of silliness .Zerina's Point Of ViewLysander looked utterly speechless. I held my breath, wai
Author's Point of ViewLysander was standing beside the window, one hand resting against the glass. His eyes were still cold and cruel, but Zerina noticed something different this time. There was no jeweled hardness in their depths. She stepped inside cautiously, and had no idea what to do in the
Zerina's Point Of View I ran along the staircase, using my eyes to search for Mr. Wilson. The marble floor seemed to stretch on forever, a cold, unforgiving expanse that matched the dread pooling in my stomach. I didn’t know what to do. I hated this feeling—the heaviness in my chest, the guilt w







