Chapter 11 - Seraphina

I remembered the day I returned home, my heart feeling lighter than it had in years. Adrian had a way of doing that—making me laugh when I wanted to scream, softening the edges of my otherwise hard world. His antics were ridiculous and infuriating, yet somehow, they were the highlight of my days.

I had been smiling like an idiot, replaying the scene from earlier. He'd followed me to the park, pretending to be a tourist, asking me absurd questions in a fake accent until I couldn't help but laugh. Adrian Jeong, a man who didn't understand the word "no."

But as I stepped into the house, the warmth drained from my body. The door clicked shut behind me, and the heavy silence was deafening. My father sat on the couch, his posture rigid, his face devoid of any warmth or affection. He never waited for me like this—unless it was for something cruel.

On the table before him were photographs, their glossy surfaces catching the light. My stomach twisted as I stepped closer, dread building with every step.

There we were—Adrian and me. Sitting at a café. Talking on the street. Me smiling at him. Him looking at me like I was his whole world.

"Care to explain this?" My father's voice was ice-cold, cutting through the silence like a blade.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "It's nothing," I said, though my voice betrayed me.

"Nothing?" he repeated, his voice rising. He picked up a photo and slammed it on the table. "This boy is the son of my rival. And you're gallivanting around with him?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but he didn't let me. "You're going to do something for me, Seraphina," he said, his tone laced with venom. "You're going to make him fall for you. Say yes to him. And then, you're going to betray him."

I stared at him, horrified. "What? No! I would never—"

His hand slammed against the table, silencing me. "You will do as I say!"

I shook my head, tears stinging my eyes. "I can't. I won't."

His expression hardened, and his next words sent a chill down my spine. "Then I'll marry you off to someone else. Someone of my choosing. A rich man, someone who'll bring profit to this family. You think you have a choice, Seraphina?"

The weight of his words crushed me. Adrian was his rival's son. Being with him was already dangerous, but betraying him? The thought made me sick.

That night, I decided I couldn't drag Adrian into my world. I had to protect him, even if it meant hurting him.

The next day on the bridge, I mustered every ounce of strength I had. "I don't love you, Adrian," I said, the lie burning my throat.

He didn't believe me. I could see it in his eyes, in the way he refused to give up. And when he shouted those three words—"I love you, Seraphina!"—for the world to hear, I panicked.

I ran back to him, desperate to shut him up before my father's spies saw us. But when my hand pressed over his mouth, his lips brushed against my palm, and I froze.

"Don't," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Don't make this harder than it already is."

But Adrian wasn't one to give up easily. His arms wrapped around me, his touch firm yet gentle, pulling me close. "I love you," he whispered again, his forehead resting against mine. "And I know you feel the same."

I wanted to fight him, to push him away and keep him safe. But as I stood there in his arms, the walls I'd built around my heart crumbled.

"Fine," I whispered, the word slipping out before I could stop it. "Fine, Adrian. You win."

I agreed to be with him, but deep down, I knew the storm was far from over. My father's threat loomed over me, and with every moment I spent with Adrian, the risk grew. But I couldn't deny it any longer. I loved him. And no matter how dangerous it was, I couldn't let him go.

During the time we were together, before everything fell apart, I allowed myself to feel what I thought I had buried deep inside. Adrian wasn't just a distraction from my chaotic life—he became my reason to smile, to feel something other than the suffocating grip of responsibility and control.

It was a whirlwind romance, one that felt like an escape from everything that bound me. Adrian's presence was both comforting and intoxicating, his smile a lifeline that I clung to, even though I knew better. We didn't have the luxury of secrecy—my father was too vigilant, too intent on keeping us apart. But that didn't stop us. Adrian had a way of sneaking into my life when I least expected it, making me forget the consequences of loving him.

I remember our first real date—just the two of us, no hidden motives or schemes. It was supposed to be casual, but Adrian had a way of turning every moment into something extraordinary. We walked along the riverbank, the moonlight reflecting off the water, the air thick with the scent of night flowers. Adrian held my hand, his fingers warm against mine, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt like I could breathe.

"I know we're not supposed to be doing this," he said, his voice low, a hint of mischief in his words. "But does it ever feel right?"

It felt like everything I'd ever wanted, but I couldn't tell him that. Not yet.

"It feels dangerous," I replied, my voice shaking, though I didn't want to admit it. "But I don't care."

And I didn't. I didn't care about the risks, the consequences, or the fact that my father would stop at nothing to tear us apart. When I was with Adrian, it was like the world faded away, and all that mattered was him.

Our days were spent in stolen moments. In the park, in cafes, at the bookstore where Adrian would pull me between the aisles of fiction, convincing me to read things I would never have picked up on my own. He'd always make a joke, teasing me for being "too serious," and I'd laugh despite myself.

Then came the nights. The dinners at little hole-in-the-wall restaurants that only he knew about, where we'd talk about everything and nothing. I started to look forward to those evenings, the quiet moments after the chaos of my world, when I could let my guard down and be with him.

But even then, there were cracks in the foundation. I couldn't fully give myself to him, not when my father's threat was always hanging over me like a dark cloud. I'd pull away sometimes, thinking that maybe if I kept my distance, it would be easier for him when everything came crashing down. But Adrian was relentless.

"You're distant tonight," he said one evening, his eyes narrowing as he watched me. He'd been so attuned to my every expression, to the slightest shift in my mood, that it was impossible to hide anything from him.

"I'm fine," I lied, but my voice wavered, betraying me.

"You're lying," he replied, his hand brushing against mine as if to reassure me, even though I knew he saw right through me. "Tell me what's going on. We don't have to keep pretending everything is perfect."

It wasn't perfect. It never had been, and it never would be. But with Adrian, for those fleeting moments, it almost felt like it could be.

"I just... I don't want to hurt you," I admitted, my voice soft. I had never said those words aloud before, but with him, it felt right. "I don't want you to be caught in my mess."

Adrian leaned in, his thumb brushing against my knuckles. "Seraphina," he said, his tone gentle but firm, "I've already chosen. You don't get to push me away. If you want me in your life, I'm not going anywhere."

His words filled me with warmth, but also a sense of dread. He couldn't be serious. He didn't understand the forces at play, the games my father was willing to play. But I couldn't tell him that—couldn't bring myself to crush the hope in his eyes.

"I wish I could be that sure," I whispered, looking away.

He tilted my chin up, making me look at him. "Then let me make you sure."

And for the first time in a long time, I almost believed him.

But with every passing day, the weight of my father's expectations bore down on me harder. I knew that no matter how much I wanted to, no matter how deeply I cared for Adrian, I couldn't let him in completely. I couldn't let myself love him the way I wanted to. Because in the end, the betrayal would be inevitable. And when it came, I didn't want to be the one responsible for tearing his world apart.

Still, in those brief moments of happiness—on quiet evenings, or under the stars, or in his arms—I allowed myself to believe that maybe, just maybe, we could make it work. Even though I knew the world would never let us.

It was the hardest decision I ever made, and one that still haunted me to this day.

I had loved Adrian with every fiber of my being, and for a while, it felt like we could defy the odds. But the harsh reality of my father's power, and the control he had over my life, was something I couldn't ignore. He was no ordinary man—he was a mafia don, and his reach extended far beyond anything I could comprehend. When he threatened Adrian's life, my world crumbled. I loved Adrian more than I had ever loved anyone, but I couldn't let him die because of me.

The moment my father's warning reached me, the weight of the world pressed down on my chest. "If you tell him anything, Seraphina, I will make sure he's dead before the sun rises tomorrow," he had said, his voice cold and void of emotion, like he was talking about the weather. He had no hesitation, no remorse. He just expected me to comply.

I couldn't bear the thought of Adrian being harmed. His life was everything to me, and yet I had to betray him to keep him alive. I was not yet a mafia member at that time—I didn't know how to fight, how to play the same dangerous games my father did. But I knew enough to understand that my father would kill Adrian without a second thought if he felt threatened.

So, I made the decision. I agreed to my father's terms, and that's when I made my choice to leak the information Adrian had accidentally confided in me. It was about a trade of gold—one that Adrian's company had been involved in. The deal had gone wrong, and Adrian had unknowingly shared details about it with me one night, thinking I was just his girlfriend.

But when my father got his hands on the information, the damage was catastrophic. The trade fell apart, and Adrian's company suffered massive losses. My heart broke for him, but I convinced myself that it was all for the greater good—if I kept him alive, it was worth the sacrifice.

I tried to convince myself that I was doing the right thing, but the guilt gnawed at me constantly. Adrian trusted me, and I had betrayed that trust in the most unforgivable way. But I had no choice. His life meant more to me than anything else, even if that meant I had to ruin everything we had built.

The memory of that night still haunted me, replaying over and over in my mind like a broken record. I had never imagined that things would end this way, that Adrian—my Adrian—would be the one to pull the trigger.

It had been seven years since that night, but the sharp sting of betrayal still lingered in the pit of my stomach. I remembered how my heart had raced when I stepped into his mansion, desperate to speak with him, to explain everything. After everything we had shared, I thought that maybe, just maybe, he would listen.

I could still see his uncle's cold, calculating face, watching me like I was some nuisance he needed to deal with. The words exchanged between them were a blur, but I could see the shift in Adrian's expression—how his usual cool demeanor faltered for just a second. I had tried to approach him, tried to make him understand, but before I could get a single word out, the world went black with the sound of a gunshot.

The pain in my shoulder was excruciating. Blood spilled from the wound, soaking my clothes as I collapsed to the floor. My mind screamed in disbelief, but I couldn't understand why. Why?

Adrian looked at me with cold eyes, his face unreadable. "That's what happens to betrayers," he had said, his voice like ice. And with that, he turned away and left me there—wounded, helpless, and broken.

I could barely hold onto consciousness as Nick, who had been there the whole time, rushed to my side. His face was a mixture of anger and concern, but there was nothing he could do to reverse what had just happened. He helped me to the hospital, but as the pain intensified, I couldn't stop thinking about Adrian—the man I had once loved, the man who had just shot me without a second thought.

In the days that followed, as I recovered from the wound—both physical and emotional—I found myself consumed by hatred for Adrian. How could he do this to me? After everything we had been through, everything we had shared, how could he just end it so mercilessly? His love had never been real. It had been a facade, a way to manipulate me, to control me. I had been a pawn in his game, just as much as I had been a tool for my father's schemes.

The love I had once believed in, the connection we shared, all of it was a lie. I hated him for it. I hated him for not even giving me the chance to explain, for not giving me the benefit of the doubt. Instead, he shot me like I was nothing. He had made his choice, and I had made mine.

That night was the last time I ever saw Adrian, and it became the last connection I had with his world—his dangerous, corrupt world.

Seven years had passed, but the wounds still hadn't healed. Not the physical ones, and certainly not the emotional ones. I had moved on with my life, learned how to survive without him, how to forget him. But every now and then, the memories would resurface, reminding me of the man who had once been everything to me and then turned his back on me in the most brutal way imaginable.

And I hated him for it.