2025-09-04 02:37:25Helena had just stepped out of the car when Vivianne arrived. Her once calm gaze instantly turned sharp, blazing with anger as she glared at Vivianne.
Helena approached her, pausing only to stroke her granddaughter’s head.
“I don’t know what you mean, Grandma,” Vivianne replied softly.
“I’ll take it as you being in denial, and this is your way of forgetting that foolish man. There are only two hours left until the event begins, and a special guest will be coming—especially for you! You must get ready at once,” Helena said.
She linked arms with Vivianne, but the young woman—the granddaughter she once cherished most—immediately shoved her off.
Vivianne’s voice trembled, her eyes brimming with tears. Her heart was torn, conflicted, yet she still loved Evan deeply and hoped that her husband would later give her the best answer she longed for.
Helena stepped closer, wearing a smile of false compassion, as though she sympathized. But instead of comfort, she landed a slap across Vivianne’s face.
She shoved Vivianne roughly, nearly sending her granddaughter tumbling to the ground. But before she could fall, a man—none other than Gideon—caught her swiftly.
Gideon smiled broadly, then shifted his gaze toward Helena. “What’s going on, Grandma? Why did you push Vivianne?”
“I was simply venting my frustration at the foolish choices she’s made! She’s also been disrespectful to you and Selene, hasn’t she?!”
“I don’t mind what happened earlier at the boutique. Vivianne did nothing wrong. The only one who deserves your anger is that ex-convict.”
At those words, Vivianne immediately pulled her shoulder away from Gideon’s grasp. Her gesture of discomfort didn’t go unnoticed, prompting Gideon to try another tactic.
Vivianne let out a long sigh, said nothing, and walked away from the two of them. Disgust and frustration weighed heavily on her. She couldn’t wait to see Evan tonight. Her resolve to defend her marriage only grew stronger, and her doubts about Evan’s honesty began to fade.
She slammed her bedroom door shut, letting her tears fall freely.
Vivianne threw herself onto the bed, grabbed a pillow, and pressed it over her face as she screamed.
She got up, opened her closet, and found a brown dress with a scandalously low neckline.
Vivianne yanked the dress from the hanger, threw it to the floor in fury, and collapsed back onto the bed in sorrow. Her heart was restless. As the hour of the event drew near, she still couldn’t shake the dark thoughts swarming her mind. Nausea rose within her—what if Evan didn’t come?
“Vivianne, are you ready?!”
It wasn’t her grandmother or parents who stood there, but Selene. The woman wore a sinister grin, eyes gleaming with vengeance.
Selene’s scorn shifted into a wide smile as she gently patted Vivianne’s shoulder, pretending intimacy.
“I came to fetch you, and also to apologize for how poorly I treated you back at the boutique. You’ll forgive me, won’t you?”
Vivianne shoved her hand away and answered sharply.
“I understand your anger. Yes, I went too far—but you must know, it’s only because I care about you, Vivianne. After all, you deserve the very best. Darian Voss is the greatest gift Grandma Helena could ever give you!”
Selene’s words shook Vivianne’s heart. She stared at her in disbelief.
She quickly pushed the thought aside and pressed Selene further.
“I went with your mother earlier to meet his secretary. He sent a beautiful cake for tonight’s introduction—just for you! You’re going to marry him! You’ll finally be free from Evan’s shadow! The Voss family is magnificent, Vivianne!” Selene exclaimed, her eyes sparkling.
Hearing this, Vivianne hurried down the stairs, dread filling her chest. All she wanted now was to speak with her grandmother and parents, to stop this event at once.
“Vivianne! You’re so slow!”
“Grandma, you must listen to me! I don’t want to marry Darian Voss!”
Helena squeezed her granddaughter’s hand and whispered, “Don’t speak nonsense, Vivianne! I don’t want to hear any excuses. Now go meet Darian—he’s waiting in the dining hall!”
“But Grandma, I don’t—”
Vivianne’s words were cut off by a voice. Evan had arrived, impeccably dressed.
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104
The suppressed gunshots rattled down the narrow concrete corridor like cracked whips. Evan dropped low, using the fallen operator’s body as a temporary shield as high-velocity rounds chewed into the cinderblock behind him, spraying fine gray dust across his face and coat."Flank him!" the lead operator shouted, his voice ringing with the unmistakable authority of a seasoned paramilitary officer. "Hold your fire on the left arm—don't hit the ring!"Evan’s jaw tightened. They really think I’m just a mark with a piece of jewelry.He rolled to his right, coming up smoothly behind a rusted generator housing. His breathing remained eerily steady, his heart rate kept under rigid control by years of conditioning and the cold, hyper-focused clarity surging through his veins. The serpent ring pressed against his knuckle, its metallic scales humming against his flesh as his senses heightened. He could hear the scrape of combat boots on damp gravel, the sharp intake of breath from three men advan
103
The underground tactical suite beneath the Zurich safehouse smelled of old stone, gun oil, and copper. Jimmy Frank Caelis leaned against the mahogany edge of the central terminal table, his polished loafers gleaming under the stark white LED strips overhead. He picked up a crystal tumbler filled with scotch, swirling it slowly as he watched Evan back away from the holographic display."You look like you’ve seen a ghost, boy," Jimmy said, his voice a low, gravelly rascal's drawl. "Or did you really think your father’s name was enough to make those old bastards in the High Council bow down?"Evan didn't answer immediately. He adjusted the cuff of his charcoal jacket, his thumb brushing against the cool, raised scales of the serpent ring on his left hand. The Vigilantia in Umbra felt unnaturally warm against his skin tonight."I don't expect anyone to bow, Jimmy," Evan said softly. His eyes locked onto the glowing family crests projected over the table. "I expect them to follow the succe
102
The deep cells beneath the Caelis estate did not exist on any blueprint. They lay beneath the foundations of the old winery, carved directly into the damp bedrock where the air always tasted of salt and lime. There were no chandeliers here, no obsidian tables, only the dull, monotonous hum of the ventilation system struggling against the subterranean moisture.Evan sat on a low wooden stool outside the iron-barred cell, a single unshaded bulb hanging between him and the woman inside. His white shirt was still damp from the rain, the blood on his cuffs dried into a crusty, dark brown. In his lap rested the leather-bound shipping ledger Bruno had dropped.Seraphine was sitting on the stone floor, her back against the weeping wall. The cut on her cheek had stopped bleeding, leaving a jagged, dark line that split her pale skin. Despite the chains locking her ankles to the iron ring in the floor, she looked entirely at ease, as if she were merely waiting for a delayed train."You're wastin
101
Vivianne didn't sit. She paced the length of the Persian rug, her fingers tracing the smooth, heavy brass of the wolf’s head paperweight she still held.Thirty guards. Evan had lined them up along the corridor—men in tactical gear, their faces hidden behind matte-black visors, their loyalty bought and paid for by the heir’s personal accounts. But as she stared at the locked double doors, she couldn't erase the memory of the two assassins who had breached his bedroom the night before. They had used codes. They had passed through security like ghosts.If Seraphine was right, the person who gave them those codes wasn't an Elder. It was someone closer.A sharp, metallic click broke her train of thought.It didn't come from the main hallway. It came from the dressing room—the small, private alcove where Evan kept his ceremonial attire and the wall-safes containing the family’s minor ledgers.Vivianne’s heart kicked against her ribs. She lowered her hand, letting the brass paperweight rest
100
"Open it," she said.The guard on the right hesitated, his eyes darting toward the end of the corridor where Evan’s office lay. "Lady Vivianne, Lord Evan gave strict orders that no one—""I am not 'someone,'" Vivianne said, her voice dropping to a low, quiet register that surprised even herself. The terror from the dining hall hadn't disappeared; it had simply turned cold, hardening into something sharp. "Open the door, or you can explain to him why I decided to wait out here where the Valerius sleepers might find me."The guards exchanged a brief look. The threat wasn't real—the estate was locked down tighter than a fortress—but the fear of Evan was. The heavy brass key turned in the lock with a scraping grunt.The door swung inward.The room inside was large, sparsely furnished, and dark save for a single lamp burning on a low side table. Seraphine sat in a high-backed velvet chair, her boots propped on a wooden trunk. She hadn't even taken off her tactical vest. She was running a s
99
The silence that followed Seraphine’s declaration was not the absence of sound, but the presence of a vacuum—a physical weight that sucked the oxygen from the grand hall. The servants’ dying gasps had faded into a rhythmic, wet rattling on the marble, a macabre percussion to the standoff at the high table.Vivianne felt Evan’s muscles cord under her hand, a tension so absolute it felt like he might shatter. The name Seraphine hung in the air like a ghost, cold and clinging. She looked from the kneeling woman—whose black tactical silk shimmered like oil—to the husband she thought she was beginning to understand. The gap between them suddenly felt like an abyss."You're alive," Evan said, his voice a low, jagged rasp. It wasn't a question; it was an indictment of years spent believing in a lie."Life is a relative term when one lives in the shadows of the Caelis archives, My Lord," Seraphine replied. She rose with a fluid, predator's grace, ignoring the Elders who were now clutching the
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