Chapter Seven

DORIAN

She turned her head, slow.

“Excuse me?”

“Amia,” I said. “She wants to get a rise out of you. Try not to let her win.”

I already knew it wouldn’t work. Serafina didn’t take well to advice — especially when it sounded like something I wasn’t supposed to know.

“Why are you giving me advice,” she asked, “like you’re not the reason she’s even involved in my life?”

Her voice tightened. So did her jaw. She didn’t even realize how easily she gave herself away.

I looked at her.

Not stiff, just directly.

Because if I didn’t say this now, she’d crash in the wrong direction.

“Because if you fall apart now,” I said, “you hand her the win. You make it easy.”

She stared.

I couldn’t tell what emotion finally stuck — anger, jealousy, or something quieter. Something closer to a break.

She didn’t say a word.

And then I did something I shouldn’t have.

I let something slip.

“You aren’t supposed to matter this much Sera.”

She froze.

I knew it the moment I said it.

Didn’t backpedal. Didn’t blink. Just… looked at her.

She didn’t say anything either.

Because we both knew I meant it. And not just the words — the weight underneath.

But I left it there. No explanations or apologies whatsoever.

She didn’t need either.

The walk into the apartment was quiet.

Not weird. Not awkward. Just…changed.

She went in first. Dropped her bag and kicked her shoes off like nothing had happened.

I stood at the door longer than necessary.

Just to let the moment settle.

When I finally moved, she had her back to me. Leaned against the counter. Glass in hand.

Voice even.

“You do this often?”

“What?”

“Play the part so well you forget it’s not real?”

I said nothing.

She wanted a reaction. I didn’t owe her one.

She drained the drink and slammed the glass down like that would make me flinch.

Then turned to me again.

“I don’t care what your plan is. Or why you said yes at that diner. Or who you’re trying to punish. But don’t look me in the eye and tell me I wasn’t supposed to matter.”

I didn’t blink.

“You want honesty now? Hm?”

She crossed her arms. “I want consistency, Everhart.”

I stepped closer. Finally spoke.

“I said yes because I saw an opportunity, Missy. And I stayed because it worked.”

“And now?”

I held her stare. “Now it’s messy.”

Still wasn’t a full answer.

She knew that.

But she also knew it was the most she’d get from someone like me.

She brushed past me — not aggressive. Just enough to test something.

Her arm grazed mine.

I felt her pause.

And I didn’t move either.

Because I noticed it too.

She hated that.

—

The next morning, the headlines came in.

Vale’s Forgotten Daughter and Her Billionaire Husband Spark Questions at Charity Gala.

Of course they did.

That was the point.

Some said she was glowing. Others said she looked “forced.” A few wondered if the marriage was out of revenge.

That one almost made me laugh.

Sera didn’t reply.

But Rhea did. Predictably.

I didn’t need to read the texts to know they were chaotic. Something about her husband. Something about mine. Probably a middle finger gif somewhere in there.

Didn’t matter.

What mattered was that Serafina didn’t look shaken anymore.

She looked… clear.

Not happy or calm. But like she’d seen herself for the first time in a while.

She entered the living room when I was mid-call.

Merger talk. Legal drafts. The usual.

She didn’t say anything and neither did I.

But I saw the flicker.

The glance she thought was hidden.

-

Ten minutes later, I walked into the kitchen like nothing had happened the night before.

“You’re not eating.”

“Don’t need a food log.”

“You’re not sleeping either.”

She turned to me, slow. “What, the marriage came with a FitBit?”

I tilted my head. “You used to chew your lip when you were overthinking. Now you don’t. That’s…worse.”

She blinked. “Bruh — did you actually stalk me?”

I didn’t answer.

That silence said enough.

Later during the afternoon, I walked in and dropped a file on the counter. Slid it toward her without fanfare.

She stared. “What is this?”

“Your speaking points, ma’am.”

“For… for what?”

I raised a brow. “You haven’t checked your calendar? Unprepared much.”

She rolled her eyes and pulled out her phone.

And found it.

RVA Corporate Brunch. Keynote: Serafina Vale Everhart.

Her reaction? Gold.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re speaking.”

“I’m— I’m what?”

I poured myself a drink. Didn’t rush it. “You’re headlining the brunch.”

“No. No, I’m not. I don’t do press. I don’t do speeches. I barely even do people. I mean, look at me.”

“You don’t look like someone who married a stranger out of spite, but… here we are.”

“You’ll be fine, Mrs. Everhart.”

She wasn’t fine.

But I knew she would be.

“I didn’t agree to this.”

“You didn’t say no either.”

I took a sip. Slowly and deliberately.

Conversation over.

She slammed the file shut. “That’s not consent.”

“It’s strategy.”

“No, it’s freaking manipulation.”

I looked at her. “It’s…working.”

She stormed off.

Tight grip on the file. Pulse probably doing backflips.

And yeah — I was right.

It was working.

—

The next day, she walked into that brunch like she owned it.

Pantsuit, chin up, and no fear in sight.

I was already there. Standing beside someone who didn’t matter.

She didn’t look at me.

I didn’t look at her.

But I felt her.

Every step. Every inhale. Every second.

They introduced her like she’d been royalty all along.

And for three minutes, she delivered.

Power. Branding. Strategy.

She said the things people were too afraid to say.

And when she finished?

The applause wasn’t polite.

It was earned.

Eyes followed her and heads nodded.

She was commanding.

And none of them saw it coming.

When she stepped off the stage, I was already there.

Waiting.

“Didn’t faint, yeah?” I said, voice low.

“Shame. Would’ve made a great headline.”

She didn’t smile, but her face didn’t fight it either.

“You’re better at this than you think.”

“Don’t analyze me, sir.”

“Too late.”

She brushed past.

Didn’t say thanks. Didn’t say anything.

Then I heard it.

Her name.

“Serafina.”

We both turned and there he was.

Richard.

Walking toward her like the whole room was a press conference.

But it wasn’t the fact that he was coming.

It was who was walking next to him.

And yeah.

I knew this was coming.

But not now-