The Interview

Seraphina woke up at 5 a.m. the way she always did.

Not because she had to. Because she had trained herself. When you spend your first year as a ghost, waking before the world wakes becomes a kind of armor. You can look at the city before the city looks back at you. You can choose who you are before anyone else decides for you.

She sat up. Robe still tied. Hair still damp from the shower she had taken at two in the morning because sleep had refused to come.

She walked to the window. Pulled the curtain back two inches. Looked at the city.

Her phone was buzzing. It had been buzzing for an hour. She did not look at it.

Room service arrived. She did not eat. She drank one cup of black coffee standing at the window and watched the sun turn the buildings pink.

Then she finally looked at her phone.

Forty seven texts.

Twenty three missed calls.

Her name was at the top of every news feed in the country.

And there, in a notification she almost missed, was a single message from a number that was saved in her phone under one letter.

E.

Elena.

"Tea is at ten. I have something to show you. Something you will want."

Seraphina read the message twice.

Then she opened her closet and chose a dress.

Meanwhile, across the city, the tabloids exploded within twelve hours.

"Mystery CEO Crushes Cross Corporation in Hundred Million Dollar Steal."

"Who Is Seraphina Kane? The Woman Who Made Damien Cross Lose His Mind."

"Billionaire Standoff: Kane vs. Cross and the New York Deal That Rocked Wall Street."

Page Six had a full page photo of her from the gala. Sharp red dress. Sharper eyes. The caption read: She came. She saw. She bought his building.

Damien threw the newspaper across his office.

Nathan caught it. "Rough morning?"

"What do we have on her, Nathan. I want something. Anything."

"I got you something. It is not good news."

"Tell me."

Nathan set a folder on the desk.

"Kane Industries was founded in June 2022 by a man named Lucas Kane. British citizen. Oxford educated. Family money. Old, but not old enough to have built a four hundred million dollar fashion house in two years. The company registered Seraphina Kane as co founder and CEO three months later."

"Where was she before June 2022?"

"That is the not good news part. I have a team in London. I have a team in Geneva. I have a woman in Delhi who once tracked down a North Korean defector for me. None of them can find her. It is not just that her records are hidden. It is that they do not exist. No birth certificate. No school records. No passport issued before 2022."

"People do not just appear, Nathan."

"No. They do not. Which means someone paid a lot of money to make it look like she did."

Damien was quiet for a long moment.

"Lucas Kane."

"Looks like a boyfriend. Maybe more than that."

"No."

"Damien."

"He is not her boyfriend."

Nathan raised his eyebrows. "Based on what?"

"Based on the fact that she did not look at him like that."

"Like what?"

Damien did not answer. He was thinking about the way Seraphina had looked at him across the bar. Cold. Deliberate. Angry in a way he could not explain. She did not look at him like a stranger. She looked at him like a woman looking at a man who had taken something from her a long time ago.

His office door flew open.

Vanessa. In a camel coat. Eyes red from either crying or rage. He could never tell which one, and he had stopped caring.

"Get out, Nathan."

Nathan stood and left without a word. The door clicked behind him.

Vanessa threw the tabloid onto Damien's desk.

"You let her humiliate you."

"Vanessa."

"Every single paper. Every single blog. Every single gossip column in this city is writing about you and that woman."

"Go home."

"I am home, Damien. Your home is my home. You promised me."

"I never promised you anything."

She went still. The kind of stillness that came before something broke. He had seen it in her three times in three years and each time it had ended with broken glass or a screaming match or him leaving to sleep at the office.

"Say that again," she said quietly.

"I never promised you anything, Vanessa. I let you into my life because I was broken and you were there. That is not a promise. That is convenience."

Her eyes welled.

He did not care.

"Damien. What is happening to you?"

"I do not know. I am finding out."

She stared at him for a long moment. Then she wiped her eyes, squared her shoulders, and walked out. As she left, she said one thing over her shoulder, so quietly he almost missed it.

"Whoever she is, she is going to be very, very sorry."

The door closed behind her.

Damien sat down.

His phone rang.

Unknown number.

He answered.

"Mr. Cross." Her voice. Calm. Amused. "I thought you might enjoy the morning papers."

He closed his eyes.

"Seraphina."

"Ms. Kane, please. We are not friends."

"What do you want?"

"I want to make you an offer. I am hosting a private dinner tomorrow night. The top six CEOs in New York luxury retail. Your competitors. I thought you should know that I will be offering them exclusive distribution rights to the Kane jewelry line."

"That would cut my suppliers out."

"Yes."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I am giving you a chance. Be there. Sit at my table. Make your counter offer in front of them. Or do not come, and watch your competitors take everything you have built."

She hung up.

Damien stared at the phone.

Nathan was watching him. "What was that?"

"A trap."

"You are going to walk into it?"

"I am going to walk into it."

Nathan sighed. "This is going to end badly."

"Probably."

He was already thinking about what he was going to wear.