I spent the entire night staring at my ceiling, the memory of Caspian's words replaying in my head. Marrying her is just repaying a debt. He saw me as a transaction, a bill to be paid.

I would not be his charity case.

With my lineage and fortune, I could have any man I wanted. I didn't need to beg for scraps of affection from someone who despised me.

I stood before my father again, my resolve hardened. "I'm serious, Dad. I'm marrying Silas. I trust him. He's the only one who has ever been honest with me."

"But the Fellows..."

"The Fellows are loyal to you because you hold their futures in your hands," I said, my voice sharp. "Their deference to me is just an act." I hid the flicker of pain in my eyes. The years I'd wasted, the love I'd poured out—it all felt like a joke.

I straightened my shoulders. "I have some requests."

"Anything, sweetheart."

"Freeze their accounts. All of them. And cut off Lyra McClain's allowance completely. She's not an Ashworth. She has no right to our money."

My father looked shocked but nodded slowly. "If that's what you want, it's done. I'll have them all removed from the estate after your wedding."

A weight lifted from my chest. I walked out of the study, my head held high.

I met Lyra on the grand staircase. She was dressed in a delicate white dress, looking like the picture of innocence. She rushed over, linking her arm with mine.

"Seraphina! I was just coming to find you! There's a charity polo match today. Will you take me? Please?"

I looked at her, at the sweet smile she wore, and felt sick to my stomach. This was the face of the girl who had stolen my love and laughed at my pain.

I yanked my arm away from her grasp.

Her eyes widened in surprise. Then, in a move of pure theatrical genius, she let out a small cry and tumbled dramatically down the last few steps of the staircase.

"Lyra!" A frantic shout came from the bottom of the stairs. It was Caspian.

I looked down and saw them all. The seven Fellows, standing there, looking up at me.

Ronan Boyle pointed a finger at me, his face red with rage. "Seraphina, you vicious bitch! How could you push her?"

Lyra, meanwhile, was already on her feet, rushing to my defense with tears in her eyes. "No, no, it wasn't Seraphina! I just slipped. She would never hurt me." Her words only made me look guiltier.

Her eyes were red-rimmed, her lip trembling. She was the perfect victim.

The Fellows all glared at me with pure disgust.

Caspian didn't say a word. He just gave me one cold, dismissive look before scooping Lyra into his arms and carrying her away as if she were made of glass.

I was left standing there, alone. I didn't get a chance to explain. I didn't even want to.

Later that day, I went to my scheduled riding lesson at the stables, hoping the fresh air would clear my head. Of course, she was there.

Lyra was standing by the paddock, looking pale and fragile. Caspian was with her. As I approached, she deliberately stumbled near my horse, Starlight, causing the high-strung mare to rear up nervously.

"Seraphina," Lyra said, her voice soft and sweet, clutching Caspian's arm. "I'm sorry about this morning. And please, don't worry about me and Caspian. I know my place. I would never get in the way of your happiness."

Caspian hovered by her side, his eyes never leaving her, as if she were the most precious thing in the world. He personally saddled a gentle mare for her, lifting her onto its back with extreme care.

He then spent the next hour leading the horse around the paddock, his hands patiently guiding hers on the reins, his voice a low, soothing murmur that only she could hear.

When she said she was tired, he led the horse to the mounting block. But instead of letting her use it, he dropped to one knee, offering his shoulder for her to step on.

I froze.

My mind flashed back to my thirteenth birthday. I had wanted to ride the most spirited stallion in our stables, a wild horse no one could tame. Caspian, already a master horseman, was the only one who could handle him.

My father had taught him that a man should only kneel for his wife.

But that day, my father had looked at a reluctant sixteen-year-old Caspian and said,"Kneel. Let her step on your shoulder. She is your future, Caspian. She is everything."

Caspian had knelt, his face a mask of silent humiliation. In that moment, I understood. That forced act of subservience wasn't a symbol of devotion to him; it was an assertion of power. It was the moment he began to resent me as a symbol of the authority that controlled him, and Lyra became the symbol of the freedom he craved to protect.

My father's words were meant to teach Caspian a lesson about his place, about his duty to me. He was telling him that I was to be his world, the woman he must honor above all others.

I remember the feeling of my small boot on his broad shoulder. My heart had hammered in my chest. It was the first time I realized I was in love with him.

I was too young, too infatuated, to see the shame burning in his eyes.

After that day, I never asked him to do it again. I respected his pride too much.

Now, I watched as he knelt willingly, gladly, for another woman. For Lyra. He looked up at her with a tenderness that made my own eyes sting.

The sight was a physical pain, sharp and unbearable. I forced myself to look away.

I kicked my horse, a powerful black gelding named Shadowfax, into a gallop. I urged him faster and faster, the wind whipping past my face, temporarily chasing away the storm in my heart. I needed to feel free, to outrun the suffocating reality of my life.

The stable had a challenging obstacle course, with high jumps and tight turns. I guided Shadowfax towards it, pushing him to his limits.

We approached a tall oxer. Shadowfax gathered himself, launching into the air.

In that split second, I heard a sharp crack.

The saddle cinch had snapped.

I was thrown from the horse, landing hard on the unforgiving ground. A searing pain shot through my leg. Shadowfax, spooked and riderless, thrashed wildly, his powerful hooves dangerously close to my head.

Through a haze of pain, I looked for Caspian. He was still with Lyra, his back to me, completely oblivious to my plight. He was supposed to be my designated guardian during these lessons, his one official duty.

He had failed. He was too busy doting on her.

"Caspian!" I screamed, my voice raw with desperation and agony.

He finally turned, his eyes widening in shock. With a speed that was almost inhuman, he was at my side. He grabbed Shadowfax's reins, his voice a low command that instantly calmed the frantic animal. He was a master of beasts, a skill he'd learned on the streets.

His job was to keep me safe. He had been so focused on Lyra he had almost gotten me killed.

The next thing I knew, I was in a hospital bed with a broken leg.

Caspian, seemingly wracked with guilt, volunteered to be my caretaker. He was a perfect nurse, attentive and gentle. He brought me my meals, read to me, and made sure I was never in any pain.

For a few days, a foolish part of me allowed a sliver of hope to grow. Maybe he did care. Maybe this accident had made him realize something.

But then I would see the way his eyes lit up whenever Lyra visited, the secret smiles they shared when they thought I wasn't looking. The hope would wither and die.

My leg was healing. One night, I woke up needing to use the restroom. The cast made it awkward, and I hobbled slowly down the quiet, sterile hallway of the private hospital wing.

That's when I heard voices from a small alcove near the nurses' station. It was Mateo and Caspian.

"You went too far this time, Caspian," Mateo's voice was a low hiss, showing a rare crack in his calm facade. "Cutting her saddle strap? She could have broken her neck. This isn't a game."

My blood ran cold. I pressed myself against the wall, my heart pounding in my ears.

Caspian's reply was chillingly calm, like a scientist discussing a lab rat. "I didn't expect the horse to spook like that. My calculations showed a 97% probability of a minor fall, maybe a sprain. Enough to scare her, to make her more dependent. This fracture... it was an anomaly in the data. The subduing effect, however, is proving quite effective."

He had calculated my fall. It wasn't an accident. It was a plan.

"So this is your penance?" Mateo asked, his voice laced with disgust. "Playing the devoted caretaker?"

"I'll see it through," Caspian said. "Then this will all be over. She'll be fine, and we can move on."

A wave of nausea washed over me. I felt a coldness spread from my chest through my entire body, a chill that had nothing to do with the hospital air conditioning.

He had done this to me. On purpose. To "scare" me. To "manage" me.

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, but I didn't feel the pain. The agony in my heart was so much greater, it eclipsed everything else. This wasn't just betrayal. This was monstrous.

I was discharged from the hospital a week later. Caspian was there, waiting to drive me home. I ignored him completely and got into the car with Mateo, who had also come along.

Mateo, the strategist. The one who had "saved" me from a falling sculpture. The one who had just reprimanded Caspian for almost killing me.

He tried to make small talk on the way home, telling jokes, trying to get me to smile.

I couldn't. My face felt like a frozen mask.

"Seraphina, are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle. "You seem... different."

"I'm fine," I said, my voice flat.

"Look, I know things have been tense," he said. "Why don't we go to the Christie's auction tonight? Buy yourself something pretty. It always helps." He smiled. "My treat."

I looked at him, at his handsome, concerned face, and felt a surge of disgust. "With my father's money?"

He flinched, but recovered quickly. "I have my own money, Seraphina. I've made some very successful investments." He leaned in a little. "Seriously. Let me buy you anything you want."

A slow, cold smile spread across my face for the first time in weeks. "Alright, Mateo. You're on."

If he wanted to play the generous fool, I would let him. I would take everything I could from these vipers.

The auction house was buzzing with the city's elite. The centerpiece of the evening was a stunning necklace known as the "Starfall Sapphire," a cascade of flawless blue diamonds rumored to have belonged to my late mother, a final gift from my father before she passed. It was more than jewelry; it was a symbol of my legacy.

The moment I saw it, I knew I had to have it.

Just as the bidding was about to start, the doors opened and two more people walked in. Caspian and Lyra.

My smile froze. I had a sick feeling in my stomach. I knew, with absolute certainty, that Lyra would want that necklace.

The bidding started.

"One million dollars," came a soft voice from across the room. It was Lyra.

She caught my eye and then looked down, a hesitant expression on her face. "Oh, Seraphina. Do you want it? I'm sorry, I'll stop." She made a show of lowering her bidding paddle, looking up at Caspian with sad eyes. "I wouldn't want to take something you like."

She played the part of the magnanimous sister so well.

Caspian's face hardened. He glared at me from across the room, his eyes full of contempt, as if I were a bully taking a toy from a small child. This was no longer about a simple gift; this was a public challenge to my birthright.

He turned to Lyra, his voice loud enough for the whole room to hear. "If you like it, you should have it. Don't let anyone stop you."

Then he raised his own paddle. "Five million dollars."

A hush fell over the room. Everyone knew who Caspian was. He was the Ashworth heir apparent, my future husband. For him to publicly bid against me, for my own mother's legacy, for another woman was a slap in the face. Whispers erupted.

"Is he trying to humiliate her?"

"Poor Seraphina. To be treated like that in public."

I felt the heat of a hundred pairs of eyes on me, some pitying, some mocking. My hand, holding my own paddle, trembled with rage.

I would not be humiliated. I would not back down.

I lifted my paddle, catching the auctioneer's eye, and made a sharp, decisive gesture.

"Ten million," the auctioneer announced, his voice booming.

I would not let them win.