Chapter 5: Moving Into the Enemy’s Home

The Virelli estate looked even more intimidating in daylight.

Seraphina Vale stood at the foot of the grand staircase leading to the mansion’s entrance, her suitcase beside her. The early morning sun reflected off the floor-to-ceiling windows, making the entire structure appear cold and untouchable.

Much like the man who owned it.

A black luxury car disappeared down the long driveway behind her, leaving her alone with a decision she was already beginning to question.

Three days.

Three days had passed since she signed the contract.

Three days of unanswered questions.

Three days of replaying Lucien Virelli’s words in her head.

You came for revenge.

The memory made her jaw tighten.

She grabbed the handle of her suitcase and climbed the steps.

The massive doors opened before she could knock.

A middle-aged woman with silver-streaked hair greeted her with a warm smile.

“Mrs. Virelli.”

The title struck her like a slap.

Seraphina forced a polite expression.

“Please don’t call me that.”

The woman chuckled softly.

“I’m afraid nobody in this house would dare call you anything else.”

Wonderful.

“Mr. Virelli instructed us to prepare your room.”

“My room?”

“Yes.”

The woman stepped aside.

“Welcome home.”

Home.

The word felt ridiculous.

Seraphina walked inside.

The entrance hall was breathtaking.

Marble floors stretched endlessly beneath crystal chandeliers. A sweeping staircase curved upward like something from an old European palace. Expensive artwork lined the walls.

Everything screamed power.

Everything screamed Lucien.

She hated it.

And yet she couldn’t deny its beauty.

“Mr. Virelli is currently in a meeting,” the woman explained.

“Of course he is.”

The woman smiled again.

“My name is Evelyn. I’ve managed this household for nearly fifteen years.”

Seraphina nodded.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

Evelyn’s eyes softened.

“You’re not what I expected.”

That caught her attention.

“What did you expect?”

Evelyn hesitated.

“Someone colder.”

Seraphina almost laughed.

If only she knew.

Before she could reply, footsteps echoed through the hall.

A tall man appeared from one of the side corridors.

Dark blond hair.

Blue eyes.

Tailored navy suit.

And a smile that arrived far too easily.

“Well,” he said. “The rumors were true.”

Seraphina frowned.

The man extended his hand.

“Matteo Rossi.”

She shook it carefully.

His grip was firm.

Friendly.

Dangerous.

“I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

Matteo laughed.

“Trust me. Around here, being talked about is much safer than being ignored.”

Interesting.

Before she could ask what that meant, another voice interrupted.

“Matteo.”

The temperature in the room dropped instantly.

Lucien.

Seraphina turned.

Her breath betrayed her for half a second.

He stood at the end of the hallway wearing a charcoal suit that looked like it had been tailored specifically for him. His black hair was slightly disheveled, as though he’d been running his hands through it during a stressful meeting.

His expression remained unreadable.

But his eyes found hers immediately.

As if they always did.

Matteo raised both hands.

“I was only being welcoming.”

Lucien’s gaze never left Seraphina.

“You have work.”

“Fine.”

Matteo smirked.

Then looked at Seraphina.

“It was nice meeting you.”

His eyes sparkled with mischief.

“I look forward to watching this marriage survive.”

Then he disappeared.

Silence followed.

Lucien walked toward her.

Every step was measured.

Controlled.

Confident.

Seraphina hated how aware she became whenever he was close.

“You arrived.”

She folded her arms.

“Obviously.”

A faint hint of amusement appeared in his eyes.

Gone a second later.

“Did you sleep?”

The question surprised her.

“What?”

“Last night.”

She frowned.

“Why?”

“You look tired.”

That annoyed her.

“I didn’t realize you were concerned.”

Lucien studied her for a moment.

Then said quietly,

“I notice things.”

Something about the answer unsettled her.

Because she believed him.

Evelyn cleared her throat politely.

“I’ll have lunch prepared.”

Then she vanished with remarkable timing.

Leaving them alone.

Seraphina immediately regretted it.

Lucien motioned toward the staircase.

“Come.”

“There you go again.”

His eyebrow lifted slightly.

“Again what?”

“Giving orders.”

A pause.

Then something unexpected happened.

Lucien offered his hand.

Not commanding.

Not demanding.

Offering.

For a moment she simply stared at it.

His hand remained steady.

Patient.

Waiting.

The gesture was absurdly intimate.

More intimate than the marriage certificate.

More intimate than sharing his home.

Because it was voluntary.

A choice.

And somehow that made it dangerous.

She ignored it and walked past him.

Lucien lowered his hand.

A strange expression crossed his face.

Almost disappointment.

The realization sent a strange sensation through her chest.

Good.

Let him be disappointed.

She wasn’t here to make him happy.

She followed him upstairs.

The second floor overlooked the grand entrance below.

Long hallways stretched in opposite directions.

Lucien stopped before a pair of double doors.

He opened them.

The room beyond stole her breath.

Large windows overlooked the gardens.

A private sitting area occupied one corner.

Bookshelves lined an entire wall.

Fresh flowers rested on a table beside the bed.

Everything was elegant.

Beautiful.

Thoughtfully arranged.

It didn’t look like a guest room.

It looked like someone had prepared it specifically for her.

Seraphina entered slowly.

“Too much?” Lucien asked.

She glanced at him.

“Why would it be too much?”

His gaze shifted briefly toward the flowers.

“You don’t like attention.”

That made her pause.

How did he know that?

Before she could ask, he continued.

“If you want anything changed, tell Evelyn.”

She looked around again.

“You prepared all this?”

A brief silence.

Then:

“Yes.”

The answer was simple.

But something about it felt heavier than it should have.

Seraphina moved toward the bookshelf.

Her eyes widened slightly.

Several of the books were favorites she hadn’t mentioned to anyone in years.

She picked one up.

Then another.

Then a third.

Her pulse quickened.

“How?”

Lucien didn’t answer immediately.

When she turned, she found him watching her.

Not the books.

Her.

“I did my research.”

The response should have felt invasive.

It did.

Yet another part of her couldn’t ignore the effort behind it.

No one had paid attention to her preferences in years.

No one had cared enough to notice.

She hated that Lucien was the first.

The silence stretched.

Dangerous.

Personal.

Then her phone buzzed.

The sound shattered whatever was forming between them.

Seraphina checked the screen.

Unknown number.

A text message.

Only three words.

Leave him now.

Her stomach tightened.

A second message arrived immediately.

Before it’s too late.

The color drained from her face.

Lucien noticed instantly.

“What happened?”

She locked the screen.

“Nothing.”

His eyes narrowed.

“It wasn’t nothing.”

“I said I’m fine.”

Lucien stepped closer.

Not aggressively.

Carefully.

Like approaching something wounded.

“Seraphina.”

The way he said her name sent an unfamiliar chill through her.

She hated it.

Because for the briefest moment, it sounded like concern.

Real concern.

Not manipulation.

Not strategy.

Concern.

“I’m fine,” she repeated.

Lucien stared at her for several seconds.

Then nodded once.

But she knew he didn’t believe her.

And somehow she knew something else too.

He wasn’t going to let it go.

After a moment, he moved toward the door.

“I’m next door.”

She blinked.

“What?”

“My room.”

He opened the door.

“Next door.”

For some reason, that information affected her more than it should have.

Close.

Too close.

Lucien paused before leaving.

“Lock your door tonight.”

Her pulse quickened.

“Why?”

A shadow crossed his expression.

Brief.

Gone before she could identify it.

Then he answered.

“Because whoever sent that message already knows where you are.”

And with those words, Lucien Virelli walked out of the room.

Leaving Seraphina standing alone in the center of a mansion filled with secrets.

Her phone buzzed again.

Another message.

This time accompanied by a photograph.

Her blood turned to ice.

The image showed the Virelli estate.

Taken from outside the gates.

Taken recently.

Someone was watching.

And beneath the photograph was a single sentence.

You think you married the devil.

Wait until you discover what he’s protecting you from.

For the first time since entering Lucien’s world, Seraphina felt something she had refused to feel before.

Fear.

And somewhere beyond the wall separating their bedrooms, the man she had sworn to destroy was already preparing for a war she didn’t yet understand.