Chapter 29 - Seraphina

My head was spinning, the pounding in my skull making it impossible to think clearly. The world around me felt like a hazy blur, shapes and sounds merging into one incoherent mess. I tried to move, but a sharp pain shot through my body, forcing me to still.

I groaned, attempting to shift again, but it was no use. My wrists and ankles were bound tightly to a cold, hard chair. The restraints bit into my skin, a cruel reminder of my helplessness. My muscles ached, the aftermath of the crash leaving me too weak to fight.

The pain only intensified as I became more aware of my surroundings. The air was thick and suffocating, the acrid stench of chemicals invading my nostrils. I blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of the dim room.

And then I heard it.

"So, you finally woke up, my dear daughter."

That voice. My heart stopped for a moment, a chill running down my spine. Slowly, I lifted my gaze, dread curling in my stomach as my father stepped into view. His face was eerily calm, his smile cruel and twisted.

This was his plan.

"You..." My voice cracked, raw and weak. "Why are you doing this?"

He chuckled darkly, his laughter chilling me to my core. He began pacing in front of me, his hands clasped behind his back, his every step deliberate.

"Oh, Seraphina, still so naïve. Did you really think you could escape my grasp? Did you think I'd just let you ruin everything I built?"

His voice dripped with venom, and his words cut deeper than any wound.

"I devoted my life to creating an empire—a legacy!" he hissed, stopping to face me, his eyes blazing with anger. "And what did you do? You betrayed me. My own daughter, aligning yourself with him."

I flinched at the harshness of his tone.

"You should have known better, Seraphina," he continued, his voice now eerily calm. "But instead, you threw it all away. My trust, my protection—all for what? Love? Freedom? A pathetic dream of escaping this life?"

My throat tightened, but I couldn't speak.

"Did you honestly think prison could hold me?" he sneered, his lips curling into a cruel smile. "Isabella and I had this planned from the beginning. The connections, the money—it all fell into place like clockwork."

My breath hitched at the mention of Isabella. I'd underestimated her involvement, but now it all made sense.

"This," he gestured around the room, his smile widening, "was inevitable. You could have been a queen, Seraphina. You could have ruled beside me. But instead, you betrayed me, and for that, there's only one solution left."

His eyes darkened as he stepped closer, his voice a low growl.

"I have to kill you, my dear daughter. It's the only way to restore what you've taken from me. Consider it my last act as your father."

The heat was unbearable, pressing down on me like a living force, making it hard to breathe. I craned my neck further, and my stomach twisted at the sight behind me.

A massive vat loomed, its metallic surface tarnished and stained from years of use. Inside, gallons of acid boiled violently, thick plumes of acrid steam rising into the air. The liquid churned angrily, bubbles bursting on the surface with sharp, menacing pops. Every hiss and crackle seemed to echo in the room, amplifying the dread that was clawing at my chest.

My chair was balanced on the very edge of the platform, teetering dangerously close to the searing liquid below. Only a thin, frayed rope held it in place—a lifeline stretched taut, trembling under the weight.

And above that rope?

A small spout extended from the ceiling, dripping acid.

Each drop was deliberate, calculated.

I watched in horror as the next drop formed, growing heavier, more defined, before gravity finally pulled it free. It fell in agonizing slow motion, gleaming under the dim light before landing on the rope with a sharp hiss.

The fibers sizzled and blackened on impact, curling away from the acid's merciless bite. The rope groaned as it weakened further, the strain of holding my weight evident in every creak and sway.

I could almost feel it beneath me—stretching, straining, on the verge of snapping entirely.

The air around the vat shimmered with the oppressive heat radiating from the acid. The acrid fumes stung my nose and throat, making it harder to draw in each breath. My pulse was a thunderous roar in my ears, drowning out the boiling fury below.

A drop fell.

Another hiss.

The chair shifted ever so slightly.

The movement was barely perceptible, but it sent an icy chill down my spine. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I struggled against the restraints.

The acid kept dripping, one agonizing drop at a time.

I couldn't look away. Every droplet was a countdown to my demise, a macabre clock ticking away my final moments. My breaths came shallow and rapid, panic clawing at me from all sides.

"You like it?" my father's voice broke through the terror. He gestured toward the vat with a twisted smirk. "It's poetic, don't you think? Slow, inevitable, and utterly fitting for a traitor like you."

I glared at him, my jaw tight. "You won't get away with this."

He chuckled darkly, stepping closer. "Oh, my dear, I already have. You've always been a pawn, and now you'll serve your final purpose."

Another drop.

Another hiss.

Another piece of the rope dissolved, sending a splintered sound reverberating through the room.

The chair swayed again, the movement more pronounced this time. My stomach lurched as I felt gravity pulling me closer to the edge.

I tugged at my bindings desperately, the sharp pain from my earlier injuries now dulled by sheer adrenaline. My body screamed in protest, but I didn't care. Every muscle strained, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I fought for survival.

But it was no use.

The rope groaned louder now, the last remaining threads holding on by a thread—literally. I could almost hear them fraying, snapping one by one.

I bit back a scream, my vision blurring with tears. My entire body trembled as the inevitability of the situation crashed over me.

This was it.

This was how it was going to end.

A sudden shift.

The chair tilted further back, and I screamed, the sound ripping from my throat as the boiling vat loomed closer, its heat engulfing me in a suffocating embrace.

"Goodbye, Seraphina," my father sneered, his voice cruel and cold.

And then, in one final, horrifying moment, the last threads of the rope gave way.

I felt my heart stop, my breath caught in my throat as the chair tilted further back. The blazing heat of the acid consumed me, the overwhelming fumes stinging my eyes and nose. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms, and squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable—the plunge, the searing pain, the end.

But then... nothing.

The chair didn't tip.

It jolted suddenly back into place.

I snapped my eyes open, my vision blurred by tears and the heat rising behind me. My chest heaved as I struggled to process what just happened. For a moment, I thought it was all over—that I had died and somehow my soul lingered. But then I saw it.

Adrian.

He stood at the edge of the platform, his hands gripping the rope, the frayed ends still hissing as the acid ate away at the last threads. His face was pale, beads of sweat lining his forehead, but his eyes—they were blazing with determination, a fire I'd never seen before.

"Adrian..." My voice was a broken whisper, but I didn't have time to say more.

A sharp, guttural cry pierced the air. My father.

Before I could react, he lunged forward, a glint of metal in his hand. My heart dropped as I saw the blade stab into Adrian's arm—the very arm holding the rope.

"No!" I screamed, thrashing in the chair as panic overtook me.

Adrian groaned, his body jerking from the force of the attack, but he didn't let go. His knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on the rope, the muscles in his arm trembling with the effort. Blood seeped through his shirt, staining the fabric in a sickening crimson, but he didn't falter.

My father raised the knife again, but before he could strike, another figure appeared—Nick. He tackled my father to the ground, the sound of their struggle echoing through the warehouse.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from Adrian. He gritted his teeth, the veins in his arm bulging as he pulled the rope inch by inch, dragging the chair away from the edge. My body jolted with each movement, but I didn't care. All I could focus on was the man before me.

Finally, the chair was back on solid ground. Adrian dropped the rope and ran to me, his movements hurried yet careful. His hands fumbled with the knots around my wrists and ankles, his fingers slick with blood.

As soon as I was free, I didn't think. I didn't hesitate. I launched myself at him, my arms wrapping tightly around his neck, my legs instinctively locking around his torso. I buried my face into his shoulder, the tears I'd been holding back now spilling freely.

"Adrian..." My voice cracked as sobs wracked my body. "You came... you saved me..."

He stroked my back gently, his other arm holding me securely against him despite the wound. His voice was soft, almost teasing, but I could hear the relief beneath it.

"Sorry, wifey," he murmured, his lips brushing the top of my head. "I got a bit late."

I tightened my hold on him, my heart pounding not from fear but from the overwhelming emotions surging through me. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt safe.

Nick's voice cut through the haze of my tears, his tone laced with a mix of urgency and humor.

"Let's do the romance later, lovebirds. Your father seems a bit... anti-romantic."

I froze in Adrian's arms, my body still trembling as my gaze darted past Nick. My father was getting up, his face twisted with fury as he wrestled free from Nick's earlier hold. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, his steps unsteady but determined as he advanced toward us.

Adrian stiffened beneath me, his hold on me tightening as if to shield me. "Seraphina, stay behind me," he said firmly, his voice low and commanding.

But I wasn't the same terrified girl who had been tied to a chair just moments ago. I untangled myself from Adrian's embrace, my knees shaking as I steadied myself. My eyes locked on my father, and something cold and sharp took root in my chest.

Adrian reached for me, concern flashing in his eyes. "Sera, don't—"

I didn't let him finish. My hand darted toward the ground, where the gun my father had dropped earlier lay glinting in the dim light. I picked it up, the weight unfamiliar but strangely comforting in my grasp.

My father froze mid-step, his eyes narrowing as they landed on the weapon. "You wouldn't dare," he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt.

I raised the gun, my arms trembling but my resolve unwavering. "Try me."

"Seraphina," he spat, taking another step forward. "You're still my daughter. You owe me—"

"I don't owe you anything!" My voice cracked, but I pressed on, the rage bubbling inside me like molten lava. "All my life, you've controlled me, used me like a pawn in your twisted game. You destroyed everything I loved, everything I cared about."

My father laughed bitterly, his expression dark and mocking. "And look where defiance got you. Right back here, in my grasp."

I steadied the gun, my finger brushing against the trigger. My heart thundered in my chest, but my mind was clear. "You lost your grasp the day you made me betray Adrian. You lost me the day you became a monster."

His steps faltered, just for a moment, but his smirk didn't waver. "You don't have it in you, Seraphina. You're weak, just like your mother."

Something inside me snapped. Memories of my mother's lifeless eyes, of the years of manipulation and pain, surged forward. "Weak?" I whispered, my voice cold and steady. "No, Father. Weakness is hiding behind power and fear. Weakness is thinking love makes you vulnerable."

My grip on the gun tightened. "I'm not weak. I'm free."

His smirk faltered, replaced by a flicker of doubt.

Before he could say another word, I pulled the trigger.

The sound was deafening, the recoil jarring through my body. My father staggered back, his eyes wide with shock as he clutched his chest. He fell to the ground with a heavy thud, his body motionless.

The silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by the sound of my ragged breaths. The gun slipped from my hand, clattering to the floor as I stumbled back.

Adrian was there in an instant, steadying me, his hands firm yet gentle. "Sera..." His voice was soft, filled with a mix of concern and awe.

I looked up at him, my vision blurred by tears. "He left me no choice," I whispered, my voice trembling.

Adrian pulled me into his arms, his embrace grounding me. "I know," he murmured, stroking my hair. "You did what you had to do."

Nick's voice broke the tension once again, his tone deliberately light. "Well, that's one way to handle daddy issues."

I let out a shaky laugh, burying my face in Adrian's chest as the weight of everything crashed down on me.

The mansion felt oddly calm, a stark contrast to the chaos that had unfolded hours ago. I sat on the couch, the ache in my body a painful reminder of everything I had endured. The doctor had come and gone, tending to the cuts and bruises, but the heaviness in my chest was harder to heal.

Adrian had stayed close, watching me like a hawk, though he pretended otherwise. His concern showed in the way he hovered nearby, offering water, adjusting pillows, and glaring at Nick every time he cracked an ill-timed joke.

For the first time in a long while, things felt... normal.

I decided to use that rare sense of peace to my advantage and slipped into the kitchen. The craving for something fresh led me to the counter, where an assortment of fruits waited to be turned into a smoothie.

Humming softly to myself, I sliced the fruits and tossed them into the blender. It felt good to focus on something simple for once. Reaching for the lid, I was about to seal the blender when I sensed someone behind me.

Before I could turn, the unmistakable click of the blender starting filled the air.

A loud whirr erupted as the contents of the blender sprayed in all directions. I gasped, stepping back as bits of fruit and juice splattered my clothes and face.

"Adrian!" I shouted, spinning around to find him standing there, his arms crossed and a mischievous smirk on his face.

"You looked like you needed some excitement," he said, shrugging casually.

My jaw dropped as I glanced down at my soiled clothes. "Excitement? Really?" I huffed, grabbing a nearby dish towel to wipe the sticky mess off my arms.

But Adrian just laughed, that deep, rich sound making my annoyance waver. He leaned against the counter, clearly amused by his little prank.

"Oh, you think this is funny?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"Absolutely." His grin widened.

Without thinking, I stepped forward and threw my arms around him, pressing my sticky, fruit-covered self against his pristine white shirt.

"Hey!" he protested, his laughter mixing with mock outrage. "You're ruining my shirt!"

I leaned back just enough to smirk up at him. "Payback's a smoothie."

He glanced down at the multicolored mess now staining his shirt, then back at me, his eyes sparkling with humor. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"And you're a menace," I shot back, but my voice lacked any real bite.

Adrian shook his head, his hands resting lightly on my waist as he tried to keep me at arm's length. "If you think this is going to stop me, you're wrong. I'll just have to get you back."

"Oh, I'm shaking in my boots," I teased, stepping back and grabbing the towel again.

Adrian chuckled, grabbing another towel to help me clean up. As we worked side by side, the tension from earlier seemed to melt away, replaced by an easy camaraderie that felt... right.

For the first time in a long time, I felt like I could breathe again.

———————————————————————————————————————————————

The morning sun filtered through the curtains as I frantically searched the room, a knot of frustration tightening in my chest.

My file—the one I needed for the meeting in less than an hour—was gone.

"I'm sure I left it on the table yesterday," I muttered under my breath, tossing aside random papers in a fruitless effort to find it. Where could it have gone?

Then it clicked. Adrian.

He was the only person who would dare touch my things. Mr. Organized, with his need to "tidy up" everything in sight. I turned toward the bed, where he lay sprawled out, the picture of peace and calm, while I ran around like a maniac.

For a moment, I paused, watching him. His hair was slightly tousled, his face relaxed, and his breathing steady. He looked so... serene. My frustration wavered as I debated whether I should wake him up. He'd probably get all grumpy and smug.

But I didn't have time to waste. With a sigh, I leaned down and gently shook his shoulder. "Adrian," I said softly. "Please wake up."

Nothing.

I tried again, this time nudging him a bit harder. "Adrian, seriously. I need you to wake up."

Before I could react, his arm shot out, wrapping around my waist, and in one swift motion, he rolled me onto the bed.

"Just five more minutes, Sera," he mumbled groggily, his voice deep and husky. His grip tightened as he buried his face against my shoulder.

I froze, my heart doing an involuntary flip. What the hell just happened?

I stared at him, completely stunned. His long lashes brushed his cheek as he sighed contentedly. His hair was a beautiful mess, and his lips, slightly parted, looked... damn.

Focus, Sera.

"Adrian!" I shouted, snapping out of my daze. "What is wrong with you?"

I pushed against his chest, not too hard but enough to make him stir. His eyes shot open, wide with confusion, as he jolted awake. In his panic, he flailed slightly and promptly fell off the bed.

I couldn't help it—I burst out laughing as he sat on the floor, looking completely disoriented.

"Oh, sorry!" he stammered, his ears turning red. "I, uh, I thought that—"

"You thought what?" I crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I thought you were... the maid."

I blinked. "The maid?"

He nodded, looking guilty but trying to act casual.

"You hug maids like this? I didn't take you for that kind of man, Adrian."

"No! I mean—ugh, never mind!" He ran a hand through his hair, groaning in embarrassment.

"Whatever," I said, rolling my eyes. "By the way, where's the file I brought home yesterday?"

"Oh, that's in the drawer." He got up quickly, opened the drawer, and handed me the file, looking anywhere but at me.

I took it, shooting him one last suspicious look before walking toward the door.

As I closed it behind me, I felt a small smile tugging at my lips.

He definitely did that on purpose.