Distractions

Serafina’s POV:

[In Her Car | Lumiere Fashion Studio | Morning]

"Was this a blessing or a curse?" I asked myself.

Silence, filled with distant car noises, was my response.

I let out a groan, my gaze fixed on the car’s roof. All I saw was Aleskander — aka, the Sin Of Pride.

Less than twelve hours ago, I wanted to meet Pride. To somehow get his help and burn Roderick and Vittoria.

But less than eleven hours ago, I had sex with that same person.

Aleskander was him, and now I was so confused. 

Should I be happy I got intimate with my potential helper?

Was it even right to ask for his aid anymore? What does he think of me at this point?

That last question bounced way too much in the corners of my mind.

I was getting a damn headache.

I squinted as I stared at the tiny, sliver necklace. A part of me felt this wasn’t an accident.

Aleskander ‘forgetting’ his necklace. The nightstand.

Hell, even the sex felt odd.

It was incredibly good. Too good, and I hated how I throbbed at the thought of him.

Everything already felt so screwed, and I—

*Ding*

My train of thought derailed at the sound. I straightened in my seat, turning my head to the side.

I reached for my phone and scoffed at the caller ID.

"Shouldn’t he be dead already?" I mumbled, glaring at Roderick’s name.

When the call ended, Vittoria’s followed, and I almost threw the damn phone.

What in heaven’s name do they want me for?

Factually, bastard husbands preferred their mistresses to their wives.

Not like Roderick even had a wife. What he slipped on my finger at the altar was a rock — not a bloody wedding ring.

I would’ve loved to answer one of their calls. Yell the words ‘Go To Hell’.

But no. I’d send those dumb asses there eventually.

A new wave of determination ran down my spine. It urged me on, and I finally alighted from the car.

A not-so-tall building, slightly rough around the edges, blessed my eyes.

Yes, fucking blessed them because my private fashion studio was my safe haven.

Remember how I said Papà wanted me as his heiress? Well, he NEEDED me.

The old man refused to support my dreams of becoming a fashion designer. 

He wasn’t openly against it. 

He just didn’t do… anything. Never gave a dime of support, and I didn’t need Fabio’s money.

With the little I personally had, I got this studio. 

‘You’re as beautiful as ever,’ I smiled, scanning it from wall to wall.

I remembered how I did nothing when Roderick demolished it.

Sure, we both built Lumiere into a soaring tower.

But how could I have allowed him to tear down my stepping stone?

"Geez, I was such a fool" I mumbled, pressing my lips together.

I tasted the bitterness of my own idiocy. But soon, I’d also taste the sweetness of my intellect.

I strutted inside, my mind bustling with ideas and plans — both centered on new cloth designs and taking Roderick down.

I had already encountered the man I needed: Aleskander.

But how do I meet him again?

Definitely not through Papà.

Aleskander was right – I needed ‘more’ to wipe my memory and guilt.

It did work, but I couldn’t meet the Sin of Wrath. Not now. Not soon.

As the scent of silk and faint perfume grew heavier, something else joined it.

Something unfamiliar.

The clicks of my heels slowed, turning cautious until they stopped.

"Who are you?" I asked, staring at a teenage girl.

Yes, a teenage girl since she was a little above eighteen. Or seventeen?

I didn’t know. Didn’t care either.

What was she doing at the entrance of my studio?

"You’re Serafina Rabbia, right?" Her voice was calm and smooth.

"Who’s asking, sweetheart?" I retorted, drawing closer.

She was a bit shorter, although she wore heels. She had dark, sleek bangs hovering right above her doe eyes.

The air around her wasn’t pleasant. Not because she glared at me – it just… wasn’t.

Then she stepped closer and brought out an envelope.

"This isn’t a request; it’s an order from My Lord."

Okay, she wasn’t only unpleasant; she was creepy as fuck.

I arched a brow, then glanced at the leather envelope.

Still, I took it from her. Besides, I had nothing to fear.

Roderick wouldn’t try to harm me for what he deserved. Apart from being his wife – which was disgusting – none of his men dressed like this.

Plus, he’d never hire anyone this young. Papà was also out of the question too. 

"A commission for a suit?" I declared, a bit too loudly.

Her face creased, and she raised her chin arrogantly.

"I’ve no idea why My Lord chose to patronize an underground couturier!" she snorted, smoothing her blouse. 

"So take this as a blessing and make a suit worthy of his time!"

This time, I snorted and stepped closer.

"Cockiness doesn’t suit you, sweetheart" I said, patting her hair.

She tried to swipe my arm away but yeah, I was faster.

Then I beamed, ignoring her heated orbs.

"I can see there’s an address here, so I’ll see you there!"

My clicks rented the corridor as I walked away.

When I reached the door, I turned back only to find her… gone.

Okay. She was strange. But this commission was stranger. 

I gave the envelope another read, then sighed.

At least I had something to work on while I mapped out my next plans.

When I finally walked into the studio, the space littered with rolls of fabric felt so comforting.

The mannequins. The sketches.

Everything felt painfully nostalgic.

I moved closer, stopping at the tabletops. Papers were littered everywhere.

But one caught my eye.

I reached down, taking it as my vision blurred.

I sketched my own wedding gown… but I never got to make it.

Roderick had been too impatient to get married to the love of his life. Right.

Utter bullshit.

But it was fine. It was okay.

I couldn’t imagine wearing my dream wedding dress for a cowardly, murderous, power-hungry son of a bitch.

★

[A Remote Area | A Mansion | Late Night]

To deliver a commission by a creepy teenager so late at night was ... dangerous.

Except it wasn't.

The sounds of the crickets and hoots of owls were a melody. The skeletal trees that stretched to the night skies were a sight.

A discomforting but not so rare sight.

"Didn't even know a place like this existed" I mumbled, my gaze drifting.

I stared at the towering manor tucked in the deep part of this forest.

It was tucked so deeply the sounds of cars were distant. Better put, the sound of any breathing thing was faint.

The air was chilly. Fortunately, I wore a long sleeved leather coat.

I wasn't affected by the cold or this off place.

Why would I when Papà once dumped me in a rainforest for six months when I was 10?

Yeah, I was more than Daddy's Little Princess. I was Fabio Rabbia's warrior.

I got accustomed to many things at a tender age.

So a dark looming manor with a rickety gate, and spiderwebs crawling all over it wasn't scary.

I admired it, to be honest.

"The ivies are pretty" I mumbled, strutting closer.

I was done with that girl's commission. As stated in the envelope, I'd deliver it here.

Now I thought it was a mistake because no one was here.

The pay was too high to be a prank. So I continued.

With a black leather garment case slung across my shoulder, I pushed the door open.

It creaked, and light shone on me.

"Chic" I remarked, studying the lavish interior of the living room.

The marble was white. Pure white, and I clearly saw myself in them.

I leaned in, tilting my chin. Christ, I looked good.

"Hello!" Once I straightened up, I called to.. no one?

This place was too clean. Someone definitely lived here.

"Someone commissioned a suit and I'm here to deliver it!" My voice echoed too much.

I didn't complain. Loved the sound of my own voice anyways. 

"It's almost midnight, and this should've waited till morning!" I kept yelling, strolling deeper.

"But it was stated my pay would reduce if I failed to deliver today. So.. do show your pretty self!"

I was getting annoyed. My own echoes as answers were getting irksome.

Then I stopped, staring all over again. I didn't need to sniff the air – here scented of nothing.

Not even detergent or disinfectant.

Should I leave?

My contemplations stopped when I heard something. I cocked my head, unsure of my ears.

Again, the sound travelled.

I began walking again, my steps soundless. But the closer I got to a door as big as that of a garage, the silence faded.

"Please help!"

I stiffened at the sound of the horrified cry. Okay, maybe I SHOULD leave.

"I'm begging you, Lord Aleskander! Please! Have mercy!"

Wait.. Aleskander!?

Something rippled through my veins and my hand reached for the doorknob. Quickly, I twisted and pushed.

Part of the big door swung open, and different sounds washed over me.

Six men were crying. Three lions were roaring.

One man was chuckling.

This place should smell of blood and fur. But the scent of ceder bloomed so much I could taste it.

It came f

rom none other than the man sat cross-legged on a high chair whilst human beings were trapped with beasts.

The scent came from the man I had a nightstand with. The same man I needed.

It came from the man who turned, held gazes with me, and smiled.

"Hello Serafina"