LOGINThe house was too quiet.
Hours ago, it had been full of whispers, heavy footsteps, and the rustle of black fabric as mourners drifted through my father’s funeral. They had come with bowed heads and empty condolences, their lips brushing against my cheek with the smell of insincerity. They all looked at me with pity, the poor little girl who had lost her father, never realizing that I had lost far more than that.
Now the walls were bare of sound, stripped like my heart, until the knock at the study door cut through the silence.
They entered as though they owned the place.
Seraphina, was in mourning black that hugged her waist too perfectly. Her lips were painted a red shade, curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Lucien followed behind her, his black suit immaculate, his cufflinks shiny like sunlight. His smirk was lazy and cruel.
And then the lawyer, hazy and bent, his glasses sliding down his nose but his eyes flickered to Seraphina too often, too obediently.
Her minion.
They sat across from me in the study that still smelled like my father’s perfume. The room carried the weight of his presence. His chair…empty. His watch, still resting on the desk. And me… his daughter. His heir. Or so I thought.
Seraphina’s voice cut through the silence first. “Let’s make this easy, darling. Sign the papers, and we won’t drag it into something uglier.”
I stood. “What is this?”
Seraphina’s gaze swept the study, her hand brushing over the edge of my father’s desk as though she was testing its weight. “Business, darling. The kind that cannot wait.”
My stomach clenched. “My father was buried not three hours ago, and you…”
Lucien interrupted with a soft laugh, sliding his hands into his pockets. “And yet the world does not stop for your grief, little dove. Did you think it would?”
The lawyer cleared his throat, opening a folder with trembling hands. “Miss Althea… we are here to review the will of the late Mr. Adrian…”
“My father,” I snapped.
He flinched. “Y..yes. Your father.”
Seraphina’s smile widened. “Go on.”
The lawyer began to read. His voice was steady, but I could hear the rehearsed rhythm, the words shaped to please someone else. “All holdings, estates, and accounts shall hereby pass into the care of my beloved wife, Seraphina Ward…”
My pulse thudded in my ears. “What?”
The list went on, the townhouse in the city, the country estate, the businesses, the accounts. Every line cut deeper. Even the smaller pieces, my father’s personal effects, things he had promised to me…. gone.
“Stop.” My voice cracked, fury beneath it. “This is a lie.”
The lawyer hesitated. His eyes flickered, guilty.
But Seraphina tilted her head. “A lie? Oh, Althea. Do you truly believe your father would trust a fragile girl like you with all of this?”
“He told me himself.” I stepped closer, my hands shaking. “He promised me everything he built, he said it was mine. He wanted me to carry his name, his work. Not.. you.” I spat
Lucien chuckled, low and mocking. “He said many things, didn’t he? Whispers meant to soothe a child. But when the time came to put pen to paper…” He gestured to the will. “He chose differently.”
“No.” I shook my head, my vision blurring. “You forged this. Both of you.”
Seraphina’s eyes glowed. She leaned closer, her perfume sweet and suffocating at the same time. “Proof, darling. Where is your proof? Do you have a recording? A witness? A single paper with your name written upon it? No?” Her smile sharpened. “Then hush.”she cooed
My throat burned. “You killed him.”
The room stilled.
For a heartbeat, I thought I saw it…the flicker in Lucien’s eyes, the shadow in Seraphina’s expression. But then Lucien laughed again, stepping toward me until I could feel the heat of him.
“You think we poisoned him, little dove? Got proof of this murder mystery in your head?”He bent, whispering so close I could feel the brush of his smoky breath against my ear. “Your mighty father wasn’t so mighty, after all. A single weakness in the heart, and down he went. Perhaps you didn’t know him as well as you thought.”
I shoved him away. “You’re lying.”
Seraphina’s voice was rich, laced with venom.
“My, my… grief has made you imaginative.” She brushed an invisible speck from her sleeve. “Poison, betrayal, conspiracies… It sounds like one of your father’s crime novels. But sadly, this is reality. And reality doesn’t bend to your feelings.”
“Believe what you like. It changes nothing. The world doesn’t run on tears and accusations, Althea. It runs on documents, signatures, names written in ink. And your name… means nothing.”
The lawyer cleared his throat, sliding another page toward me. “According to Mr. Adrian’s last will and testament…”
“That’s not his handwriting.” I snapped, pointing at the signature written at the bottom. It was too clean, too calculated. “He would never leave everything to you. He trusted me.”
Lucien leaned closer, his grin widening.“Trusted you? Or tolerated you?”
The words landed heavier than I expected, coiling in my gut. He knew something, something I didn’t.
Seraphina caught my stare, her lips curving. “Your father had… secrets, Althea. He wasn’t always honest. Not even with you.”
A chill went down my spine. “What are you implying?”
Her smile deepened, but she said nothing, leaving the sense to rot in the silence.
The lawyer slid another paper forward. “This includes the house. It will be sold within the month. Mrs. Seraphina and Mr. Lucien are entitled beneficiaries.”
I pushed the papers back so hard they almost slid off the desk. “This is my home! You can’t take it!”
“Can’t?” Lucien echoed, laughter spilling out, cruel and sharp. “Sweetheart, we already have. You’re nothing without his name, and his name belongs to us now.”
“I am his name,” I spat. “I’m his blood. His daughter.”
For the first time, Seraphina’s eyes softened..not with pity, but something closer to mockery. “Blood, yes. But blood is such a… fragile thing, isn’t it? Sometimes it’s not what it seems.”
The air left my lungs. My pulse hammered, a strange unease crawling through me. Her words weren’t random. They carried weight, a cruel one.
Lucien clapped his hands once, as if to end the conversation. “So, sign the papers, little dove, or fight a battle you’re destined to lose. Your choice.”
I stood, the chair scraping violently against the floor. “I won’t sign. Not today. Not ever. My father built this empire, and I’ll burn before I hand it over to snakes like you.”
They didn’t flinch, didn't rage. They only smiled, like predators surrendering to a prey that still thought it had claws.
The lawyer closed the folder, his hands trembling as he slid it back into his case. He didn’t look at me, not once. Seraphina rose gracefully, adjusting her veil. “Then burn, darling. Ashes can’t inherit estates.”
Something inside me cracked then, “You’ll regret this,” I hissed. “You’ll choke on everything you’ve stolen from me.”
Seraphina only smiled, brushing invisible dust from her sleeve. “Oh, my sweet girl. By the time you learn how this world works, there will be nothing left of you to fight with.”
Lucien’s laughter followed them as they left the study. The lawyer trailed after, head bowed.
Her perfume lingered long after they left, suffocating. And in the silence, I felt the walls close in.
The house my father built around me… already slipping through my fingers.
Althea’s pov When I walked downstairs, he had set the table…plates, glasses, even a flower in a cup like he was trying too hard.“Sit,” he said quickly, pulling the chair for me.He was trying to be a gentleman now?Adorable..He went over the pot to remove the last batch of food. but every few minutes he returned to me… a hand on the small of my back, fingers brushing my arm; a soft touch to my cheek as he checked if I was “too warm.”The old Althea might have melted.But I watched him with clinical precision.Observing his patterns.His weaknesses.His desires.He served breakfast… toast, eggs, tomatoes cooked unevenly and sat beside me instead of across the table. Our knees brushed. He didn’t move away.I sat, and he placed the food gently in front of me, like I was fragile porcelain.“You didn’t have to do all this,” I said sweetly.“I wanted to,” he said, taking the seat closest to mine instead of across the table. Our knees brushed…accidentally on purpose.I ate slowly. He watc
Althea’s povIt was slow when consciousness finally seeped back in.My head throbbed, the kind of dull, heavy ache that comes from crying until the body gives up and forces sleep. My eyes felt swollen, my breaths uneven. For a moment, I didn’t know where I was.Then I felt the warmth beside me.Damien.He was asleep on the other end of the bed, lying slightly turned toward me, one arm resting loosely over his stomach. His hair was messy, his jaw shadowed, his chest rising and falling with the softest rhythm. And then I noticed it.He was smiling.Not wide. Not obvious. Just… a faint, peaceful curve at the corner of his lips.In all the time we were together, in every night he once held me, I had never seen him look this calm. This content. Even when he pretended to “move on,” even when he married her… I knew he never slept like this.Last night must have been the best night of his life.We kissed, and it was everything he’d ever wanted from me. Everything he thought he lost forever.
Damien’s povI heard her scream before I was even fully awake.A sound like someone ripping their soul out through their throat.“Althea?”I was already running.I pushed her door open so hard it slammed against the wall. She was thrashing, drenched in sweat, tears cutting lines down her cheeks, her breath shuddering like she was drowning in air.Her eyes snapped open…wild, terrified, unfocused.“Althea.. Althea hey….hey, I’m right here,” I said, grabbing her shoulders gently.She looked at me as if she didn’t see me at all.“They came… they came for me,” she stuttered, voice breaking apart piece by piece. “They took me….there was blood….Valerio”Valerio.Even hearing the name made my jaw lock, but this wasn’t about me. Not now.I pulled her against me. She was shaking so hard her teeth chattered.“It’s okay,” I murmured, running a hand down her back, trying to steady the tremors. “You’re safe here. No one’s getting to you. Not in my house. Not while I’m here.”She clung to my shirt l
Althea’s povI jolted awake with a violent scream, drenched in sweat, tears streaking down my face. Every breath was a ragged tear in my chest.Damien burst into the room, panic flashing across his face."Althea... are you okay?" he asked, holding me close. I shivered, tears welling in my eyes. "They came... they came for me," I stammered. He pulled me closer, brushing wet strands of hair from my face. "Calm down... you're safe now," he soothed, his voice a low tone as he patted my back. The comfort was a need to my frayed nerves, and I leaned into him, clutching at his shirt. He gently cupped my face, his gaze intense. "I'm not going anywhere, Althea. It's okay Althea… you're okay.. You're safe here with me, I won't let anything happen to you, okay?" His eyes were mixed with sincerity and pain. I managed a shaky nod.It wasn't much at the time, but it gave me relief. I slumped on his shoulder holding him tight. He broke the hug and held my face. “I’m not leaving you again.. Okay?
Althea’s povI felt him before I heard him.A tight, burning sensation crawled up my spine the familiar, infuriating pull of his presence.Valerio.I turned sharply.He stood there, chest heaving, eyes wild, like a man who had sprinted through hell just to reach me.But that only made my anger sharper, colder.“What are you doing here?” I hissed. “Why are you here, Valerio?”His face tightened. “Let me explain, Dolcezza, I….”“Don’t.” My voice sliced the air. “Don’t call me that.”He froze.For a second… he looked like I’d slapped him.Good.“It’s almost funny,” I said slowly, bitterness burning through my throat. “I used to want nothing more than to hear that name from you. I even loved the way it sounded. And now?”I shook my head.“Now I detest it.”“Althea, please…” His voice cracked, soft but desperate.“You’re just like him.” I spat the words like poison. “Damien. A liar. A cheat.”His jaw clenched. “I’m nothing like him.”“You lied to me!” My voice rose despite my attempts to s
Althea’s PovThe next few days, the pattern deepened.He cooked again.Then he offered to drive me anywhere.Then he started talking… the kind of talking men only do when they’re trying to rebuild something they know they shattered.Stories. Regrets.Confessions wrapped as apologies.“I don’t know why I let things go the way they did,” he said one afternoon as we sat in the living room. “I tried to move on… I even tried to convince myself I was happy. But every time I saw you…”He stopped.I tilted my head. “Every time you saw me… what?”His jaw clenched. “It reminded me of everything I ruined.”There it was.The crack.The opening.I stepped closer, pretending to hesitate. “Damien… we can try to rebuild something. Maybe not what we had, but…”I let my voice soften into the version he remembered… warm, forgiving, naïve.A small, careful smile touched his lips…full of hope he didn’t deserve.Hook two.But…I let the softness drop like a blade.“That was what you expected me to say?” I







