Chapter 4

Alexander's POV

“Seraphina?”

The name left my throat rough, almost broken — like I’d been holding it back for years, and only now let it out. I stood frozen on the marble steps, my boots sinking slightly into the fine stone, my eyes drinking in every inch of her.

She was nothing like the girl I’d known five years ago. That girl had worn faded dresses and worn shoes, her hair pulled back simply, her face open and raw — easy to read, easy to dismiss. This woman… she stood tall, elegant, wrapped in deep emerald silk that clung to her frame like royalty. Her hair fell in soft, perfect waves down her back, her makeup sharp and polished, her chin lifted high — proud, unyielding, untouchable.

And her eyes — those same dark, intelligent eyes — looked back at me without a flicker of the old pain. Without fear. Without anything but cool, calm distance.

“Hello, Alexander.” Her voice was smooth, low, rich — like velvet over steel. “Welcome to my home.”

My home.

The words hit me harder than any blow. I looked around the grand entrance hall — high ceilings, crystal chandeliers, portraits of powerful, dark-haired people lining the walls — and realized exactly where I stood. Romano Estate. The name I’d been taught to fear, to hate, to destroy. The family my father had told me were monsters, thieves, killers.

And she was theirs.

“You…” I took one slow step forward, my hand tightening around the railing. “You’re Seraphina Cole. The waitress. The girl I rejected.”

One perfectly shaped eyebrow lifted. “I was Seraphina Cole. That name belonged to the girl who had nothing — who no one wanted. Now I am Seraphina Romano. Heiress to this house, to everything you see, and everything you never knew existed.”

Her words cut through me, sharp and precise. I felt my wolf twist inside my chest — confused, restless, burning with a recognition I couldn’t fight. She is ours. She is ours.

“Romano…” I breathed out the name, the pieces shifting and clicking into place, terrifying and undeniable. “You’re the heir. The one everyone thought was dead. Lost. Gone.”

“Hidden,” she corrected softly. “Protected. Saved from people who would have crushed me — people who looked at me and saw only something weak to throw away.”

Her gaze held mine, and in that moment, I knew. She was talking about me.

***

Seraphina’s POV

I watched the emotions race across his face — shock, disbelief, confusion, and underneath it all… guilt. Deep, heavy, unmistakeable guilt. Good. Let him feel it. Let him understand exactly what he threw away.

He looked different now — harder, sharper, a scar running through his left eyebrow that hadn’t been there before, his jaw tighter, his eyes darker. But the pull was still there — that invisible, unbreakable thread the Moon Goddess had tied between us, humming and burning whenever we stood close. I could feel it in my bones, in my blood, in every breath I took.

And I hated it.

“You…” Alexander took another step, his voice lower, rougher. “You knew. All this time, you knew who you were — and you let me send you away like you were nothing.”

“I didn’t know anything back then!” My tone snapped, sharp and cold, before I pulled it back under control. “I was twenty-one, Alexander. I worked twelve-hour shifts just to pay rent. I had no idea who my parents were, no idea this empire existed, no idea I was the last of a bloodline people had killed to destroy. I only knew that I loved you — and you stood in front of everyone and told me I was worthless.”

His face paled. He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.

“Then I found out the truth. I learned what my family was. What my name meant. And I realized — you were right about one thing. I was weak. But not because I was human. Not because I was poor. I was weak because I gave my heart to a man who judged me before he even knew me.”

He stopped. He looked at me — really looked at me — and for the first time in five years, I saw something in his eyes I’d never seen before: fear.

“Seraphina…” He reached out, his hand hovering in the air between us, like he wanted to touch me but was terrified I’d pull away. “I didn’t know. I never knew who you were —”

“Would it have changed anything?” I asked quietly. “If you’d known I was a Romano, heir to the most powerful family in the city… would you have accepted me then? Or would you have rejected me just the same — because you were taught to hate my name?”

He went silent. And in that silence, I had my answer.

Before either of us could say more, a small, clear voice came from behind me.

“Mommy? Why is the big wolf shouting?”

My heart jumped. I turned just as Luca stepped out from behind Elena, who’d been guarding the doorway. He stood straight, his small hands clenched at his sides, his bright blue eyes fixed straight on Alexander.

Alexander froze. His hand fell slowly to his side. His breath hitched, ragged and sharp.

He looked at Luca. Then he looked at me. Then back at Luca again.

And his face drained of all color.

The boy had his dark hair, his strong jawline, his proud stance — but most of all… he had those eyes. The exact same icy blue, the exact same intensity, the exact same fire that burned in Alexander’s own gaze.

Luca tilted his head, studying him. “You smell like… like me. Like Mommy.”

Alexander took a stumbling step forward, as if pulled by an invisible chain. His voice came out barely a whisper, broken and trembling.

“Seraphina… who is he?”

I stood straighter, wrapping my arm around Luca’s shoulders, pulling him close to my side. I looked Alexander right in the eye, my voice steady, clear, and final — the answer he’d never tho

ught he’d hear.

“This is my son, Alexander. And he has your eyes.”