Chapter 3 - Seraphina

I stepped into the mansion, my eyes scanning the lavish surroundings, but none of it mattered. The gilded walls, the marble floors—they were all just a blur as I walked past them, trying to steady my breath, trying to keep my emotions under control. The weight of everything was still too heavy to bear.

My luggage was already there, sitting by the door of what I presumed to be my new prison. A twisted part of me wondered if Adrian had been waiting for this moment, if he'd been planning it all along. Of course, he had. He always did.

I dropped my bag onto the bed, my hands gripping the edges, the anger bubbling up in my chest once more. This wasn't me. This wasn't how my life was supposed to be. But it was my reality now, a reality I had no choice but to face.

I was in the middle of unpacking when I heard the door creak open behind me. A familiar voice, smooth and taunting, broke the silence.

"Nice room, wifey," Adrian said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

I spun around, my heart pounding, and found him leaning casually in the doorway, his eyes glinting with something darker—something possessive.

"Don't call me that," I bit out, my voice shaking with the fury I could no longer suppress. "You can't just keep throwing that word at me like it means anything."

His smile was a dangerous thing, a smile I had once loved, but now it only made my blood boil. "But it does mean something, sweetheart. You signed the contract, didn't you? Now, you're my wife. And this," he gestured around the room, "is your new life. Deal with it."

My fists clenched, and I fought the urge to throw something at him, to make him feel even a fraction of the frustration consuming me. "You think you can just take over my life, Adrian? You think I'll bend to you just because you hold all the cards? Well, you're wrong. I'm not your damn wife. Not in any way that matters."

He took a step toward me, and I took one back, every inch of space between us suddenly feeling like an ocean.

"Do you really think I care about what you think?" His voice was low now, the edge of menace creeping in. "You're here because I made you come. You're here because you have no choice."

"Maybe," I spat, my breath coming in short bursts, "but that doesn't mean I'll play nice. You don't get to just walk in and claim everything, Adrian. Not me, not my daughter, not anything."

He stepped forward again, and this time, I didn't move back. "Careful, Sera," he warned, his voice dangerously calm. "You're walking a fine line."

I didn't care. I wasn't going to let him break me, not again. "I don't care what you say," I snapped, the words cutting through the air like a knife. "You can keep playing your games, but I'm not your damn puppet."

For a long moment, there was nothing but the weight of our stares, two people once in love, now broken, now enemies.

"You'll get used to it," he finally said, his smirk returning.Before I could snap back, he turned and left the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

I sank onto the bed, my hands shaking, my heart racing. How had it come to this? How had I let him control me like this again?

But I wasn't going to let him win. Not this time.

The door creaked open, and I barely looked up, assuming it was just another of Adrian's attempts to assert his control. But then, the unmistakable sound of heels clicking against the floor made me raise my eyes—only to be met with the sight of him, Adrian, and a woman standing at the doorway.

My blood boiled instantly.

He walked in, cool and composed, as if everything was normal. His eyes met mine briefly, a flicker of something in them, before he turned his attention to the woman at his side.

"This is Natasha," he said, his voice too calm, too unaffected. "My girlfriend."

The words hit me like a slap across the face. I could feel the heat rising in my chest, my breath quickening as a wave of anger and jealousy crashed through me. Of course, he would do this—rub it in my face. It was a game to him, wasn't it? Power, control, and manipulation. All I was to him now was a pawn, a tool to make his life more interesting.

The woman smiled at me, her expression condescending, as if she knew exactly what was happening. She moved to sit beside Adrian on the bed, leaning into him, her hand grazing his arm in that intimate way that sent a searing pain through my chest.

I couldn't take it. The sight of them together, the sight of him—my heart was burning, but not from jealousy. From something deeper, something darker.

In a blur of motion, I grabbed the glass of alcohol sitting on the bedside table and, without thinking, threw it onto the bed where they were sitting. I watched, detached, as the liquid soaked into the sheets, and in the next instant, I grabbed a lighter from the drawer, flicking it open.

The flames caught instantly, dancing over the fabric, licking at the air, devouring the softness that once existed.

But the fire that consumed the bed was nothing compared to the fire that raged within me.

I didn't hesitate. I grabbed Natasha by the neck, my fingers tightening around her throat as I pulled her toward me. She gasped, her hands instinctively reaching for mine, but I was stronger, angrier.

"If you ever come near this house again," I hissed through gritted teeth, "I swear I'll kill you."

Her eyes widened in fear, and I could feel her pulse pounding beneath my grip. But I didn't let go. Not yet. She had to understand. She had to know that I wasn't just some passive woman who would watch her flirt with my husband.

The flames were rising higher, creeping dangerously close to my hand, but I couldn't focus on that. Not when Adrian was standing there, frozen, his eyes wide with shock.

In a split second, he shot up from the bed, his hand grabbing my wrist, trying to pull me away from Natasha. But I didn't release my hold. The fire was growing stronger, and the heat was starting to burn my skin, but I didn't care.

"Let her go!" Adrian's voice was urgent, demanding, but it only fueled the rage coursing through me.

The pain in my left hand flared as the flames crawled up my skin, but it barely registered. What was burning on my skin was nothing compared to the fury inside me.

I let go of Natasha with a final shove, pushing her back into Adrian's arms, and turned to look at him. My breath came in ragged gasps, and the fire in my hand was still burning, the pain radiating through my entire arm. But it wasn't the pain I was focused on.

I didn't care about my body. I didn't care about the consequences. I only cared about one thing: him.

"You think you can break me?" I sneered, the words coming out harsher than I intended. "You think this—" I gestured to the bed, to the woman, "—can make me bow to you again? Think again, Adrian."

He didn't say anything for a moment, just stood there, looking at me with something that almost resembled regret, but I didn't care about that, either.

"You should've never come back, Adrian. Because I'm not the same person you left seven years ago."

I turned and stalked toward the door, leaving them both behind, but as I reached for the handle, I couldn't help but hear his voice, a whisper in the chaos.

"I didn't want this, Sera."

I didn't look back