Chapter 20 - Adrian

Two days ago, Seraphina had approached Isabella. The meeting had been as frustrating as trying to crack a stone with bare hands.

We'd tracked her down to a high-end boutique where she was browsing through designer handbags like she had all the time in the world. Seraphina, composed and confident, walked right up to her, her heels clicking against the marble floor like a warning bell.

"Isabella," Seraphina had greeted her with a polite smile, her tone sweet but laced with an edge. "I've heard quite a bit about you."

Isabella had barely glanced at her, feigning disinterest. "And you are?"

"Someone who knows you're more than just a face behind Roses and Ferns. Let's cut the small talk. I want answers."

Isabella tilted her head, her lips curling into a faint smile. "I'm afraid you've mistaken me for someone who owes you anything."

Seraphina's patience was admirable. She leaned closer, her voice dropping. "Mistakes aren't something I make. We both know you're not the real boss of your empire, so why don't you save us both the trouble and start talking?"

Isabella's gaze hardened, though her smile remained. "I don't know what game you're playing, darling, but I'm not interested."

The conversation had gone on like that for a few more minutes—Seraphina pushing, Isabella deflecting. By the end of it, we had nothing new, and Isabella walked away unbothered, leaving Seraphina seething.

Now, we were at the café, frustrated and trying to regroup. As Seraphina leaned closer, her lips almost brushing my ear, I tried not to focus on the warmth of her breath or the fact that her proximity was driving me insane.

"She's here," she whispered, tilting her phone as if taking a selfie.

"What?" I whispered back, my eyes scanning the room.

"She's with someone. I need to see who it is without tipping them off."

I watched as Seraphina tilted the phone screen to zoom in on the reflection behind us. It was subtle, clever. She adjusted the angle until the camera caught Isabella sitting down at a corner table.

Then Seraphina froze, her eyes widening as she stared at the screen. "Oh my god," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"What? Who is it?" I asked, trying to get a look.

"It's... my father."

The words hit me like a ton of bricks. I quickly grabbed the phone, staring at the screen. Sure enough, there he was—Seraphina's father, sitting across from Isabella, deep in conversation.

I turned back to Seraphina, who looked pale, her hands trembling slightly as she gripped the edge of the table.

"This... this doesn't make sense," she murmured. "Why would he be meeting with her?"

I reached out, placing a hand over hers to steady her. "We'll figure it out," I said firmly. "But first, we need to find out what they're talking about."

Seraphina nodded, her determination returning. "We need to follow them."

"Then let's move," I said, grabbing the check and leading her out. This wasn't over—not by a long shot.

We slipped out of the café, keeping a safe distance behind Isabella and Seraphina's father. Seraphina was tense, her fists clenched as she walked beside me. The air between us was charged—equal parts anger and anxiety.

"They're planning something," she whispered, her voice low but sharp.

"Then we'll find out what," I replied, keeping my eyes fixed on the pair ahead.

We followed them down a narrow street that was quieter than I liked. The muffled sound of their voices drifted back toward us, and I strained to make out their words.

"...the girl," Isabella said, her voice soft but clear.

My brow furrowed. Who was she talking about?

"Iris," Seraphina's father responded, his tone cold. "We'll make her disappear if that's what it takes to keep Seraphina in line."

I froze, my blood running cold. Iris. They were talking about Seraphina's daughter.

I glanced at Seraphina, whose face had gone pale with fury. Her breathing quickened as she clenched her jaw, but before she could do anything reckless, I grabbed her wrist, shaking my head slightly.

"We need to hear more," I whispered.

Isabella glanced over her shoulder, and my heart skipped a beat. I pulled Seraphina into the shadows of a side alley just in time, pressing her back against the wall.

Their footsteps slowed, and I realized they were suspicious. My instincts kicked in, and without thinking, I stepped closer to Seraphina, shielding her from view.

Our faces were inches apart, her wide eyes meeting mine. Her breath hitched as I leaned in, my hand bracing against the wall next to her head.

"Stay still," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

Her lips parted slightly, and for a moment, the tension between us shifted. It wasn't just fear or adrenaline; it was something else, something I didn't dare name.

The sound of their footsteps stopped, and I knew they were scanning the area. I didn't dare look, keeping my focus on Seraphina instead.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and I could feel the heat radiating off her. For a second, I forgot why we were here, why this mattered, because all I could think about was how perfectly she fit in my arms the last time we were this close.

But then the voices resumed, fading as Isabella and her father walked away.

"They're gone," I whispered, stepping back slightly, though I didn't let go of her wrist. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, her voice quiet. "They're planning to take Iris. We can't let them."

I nodded. "We won't. But we need to be smart about this. If we confront them now, we lose our advantage."

Seraphina swallowed hard, her resolve hardening. "Then let's figure out our next move. Fast."

I released her wrist reluctantly, already missing the warmth of her skin. But there was no time for distractions. We had a war to fight, and Iris's life was on the line.

We walked into the hotel room, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife. Seraphina didn't say a word. She headed straight to the window, her arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold herself together.

"Are you okay?" I asked, my voice soft but cautious, not wanting to push too hard.

She nodded quickly, but the gesture felt hollow. She was still facing the window, her shoulders rigid and her posture unusually fragile. It wasn't her. It wasn't the Seraphina I knew—the fiery, relentless woman who always seemed unbreakable.

"Seraphina," I said, stepping closer. "Talk to me."

She shook her head, letting out a shaky breath. "I'm fine, Adrian. Just...give me a minute."

But I couldn't. I couldn't stand there and watch her crumble silently, pretending like nothing was wrong. Before I even realized it, I was moving. My arms wrapped around her from behind, pulling her against my chest.

Her body tensed for a moment, and I thought she might pull away. But then she sagged into me, her head tilting back slightly as she let out a shuddering breath.

"It's okay," I murmured, my hand rubbing gentle circles on her back. "We'll figure this out together, Seraphina. I won't let you do this alone."

At those words, she turned in my arms so fast it caught me off guard. Her hands clutched at the fabric of my shirt as she buried her face in my shoulder. Her whole body shook with the force of her sobs, and I felt something inside me twist painfully.

"I...I can't lose her, Adrian," she managed between gasps. "I can't lose Iris. She's all I have left."

I tightened my hold on her, resting my chin on top of her head. "You won't lose her," I said, my voice low but firm. "Not as long as I'm here. We'll get her back. I swear to you, Seraphina."

Her sobs grew louder, the sound tearing through me. She was always so strong, so composed, but seeing her like this made me realize just how much she'd been carrying alone.

I guided her toward the couch, gently lowering us both onto it. She curled into me, her face still pressed against my chest, her fingers gripping my shirt like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

Her tears soaked through the fabric, but I didn't care. I just held her, letting her cry it out. Her pain was raw, real, and it felt like it was bleeding into me. I hated it—hated that I couldn't fix this for her right now.

After what felt like an eternity, her sobs quieted into soft sniffles. She didn't let go, though, and I didn't want her to. She felt small and vulnerable in my arms, and all I wanted to do was protect her from everything, even her own fears.

"It's not fair," she whispered, her voice muffled against my chest.

"I know," I said, stroking her hair. "But we'll make it right, Seraphina. I promise you."

She didn't respond, just clung to me tighter. Her breathing began to slow, and I realized she was finally succumbing to the exhaustion of the day.

As she drifted off to sleep, I shifted slightly to make her more comfortable. She was still curled up in my lap, her head resting on my chest, her hands now loosely holding onto my shirt.

I leaned back against the couch, staring down at her peaceful face. For someone who always seemed so strong, she looked so fragile in that moment.

I brushed a strand of hair out of her face, my fingers lingering against her skin. Without thinking, I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

"You're not alone, Seraphina," I whispered. "Not anymore."

I rested my head back against the couch, my arms still wrapped securely around her. Her weight against me felt oddly comforting, like she was meant to be there.

The exhaustion finally caught up with me too, but even as my eyes drifted shut, I didn't loosen my hold on her.

I wouldn't.

Whatever came next, we'd face it together.