Sera's POV:

  My art room was the only place that was truly mine. It didn't belong to my father. It didn't belong to his enemies. It was far away from the violence that followed him like dark mud.

  Here, everything was calm. The air smelled thick with paint. Soft music played. The white canvas waited for whatever I wanted to make.

  I dipped my brush in blue and moved it across the canvas slowly forming waves, calm waves. The kind of waves that never had screaming or gunshots near them. When I painted, the outside world didn't exist. Or, I tried to make it not exist.

  And suddenly a loud slam came from outside the door. I froze. Another argument, probably. My father always had loud, angry, dangerous business. I tried to look back at my painting. Just breathe, just keep going.... I tell myself.

  Another bang. Harder this time. My heart jumped hard. Before I could put the brush down, the door broke open. Three tall men in black rushed in like a storm. My paint jar fell and blue water splashed all over my legs.

  "What... Who are you?" I stammered, backing up until my spine hit the wall. The closest man stepped forward. "Sera Voss?

  I nodded, shaking.

  "Don't fight," he said. "We don't want to hurt you. He reached for me.

  I slapped his hand away. "Stay back!"

  But another man was already behind me. A black glove covered my mouth before I could scream.

  I kicked and fought, gasping against the leather.

  "Hold her hands," the first man ordered. "Boss wants her alive. No marks." Alive? What do they mean? They grabbed my arms and pulled them behind my back. My heart was pounding so loud I could barely hear anything else.

  "Who sent you?" I forced out when the hand moved away from my mouth.

  The man's black eyes did not blink. "Damien Vescari." That name hit me like a solid punch. Damien.

  I had heard it before, in hushed arguments and behind closed doors. My father's voice, shaking in a way I had never heard, saying, we never cross that man, never.

  A monster. A name that made grown men terrified.

  "No," I whispered. "You have the wrong person. I don't know him. My father..."

  "Your father knows him," the man cut in. "That is the problem."

 I shook my head hard. "Please... stop." He pulled a black cloth from his coat.

  "No," I said, backing away uselessly. "Please don't..." The blindfold went tight over my eyes and darkness swallowed me.

  "Move."

  Strong arms dragged me. My feet hit brushes and broken glass. I cried out when my shoulder hit the door frame.

  "Slow down!" I begged.

  "No time."

  Cold night air hit my skin as they pulled me outside. A car door opened. They lifted me and shoved me inside a dark metal van. No windows, no escape. The door slammed shut. My breath came too fast, too raw.

  "Where are you taking me?" I whispered.

  "To the man you should be most afraid of," one of them said.

  The van lurched forward.

  "Why me?" I choked. "What does he want?"

  The man went silent then laughed coldly. "He wants what was promised."  I shook my head hard. Promised? By my father?

  My voice broke. "I don't know what you mean!"

  "No," the man said. "But he does."

  The van stopped. A door opened and hands yanked me into a place that smelled expensive, cold, and wrong. I hear the footsteps of men... then a quiet voice ordered:

  "Take the blindfold off."

  Light crashed into my eyes and I blinked hard. Then my breath stopped. A man stood in front of me. He was very tall and had dark hair. His eyes were like a storm-sharp and familiar, like they had been waiting for me forever. He didn't smile, he didn't move, he just stared.

  "Hello, Sera," he said, a little bit too soft, too certain.

  I swallowed. "I don't know you. Why did you take me?"

  His gaze dropped to my lips, then came back up to my eyes.

  "You know me," he whispered. "You just don't remember."

  I shook my head. "Let me go."

  "I will," he said. "When your part of the deal is finished."

  "What deal? I don't know what you're talking about"

  "Your father made a deal with me," Damien cut in, his voice hard as steel.

  "Twelve years ago." He added.

  I froze.

  "Twelve... years?"

  A mix of pain, anger, and longing crossed his eyes.

  "Yes, you were promised to me," he said softly.

  "Promised?" I repeated, barely able to breathe.

  His lips twisted into something dark.

  "You will be my wife, Sera."

  The room spun.

  "No," I gasped. "No, I won't-"

  "You already are," he said. "By blood and by vow."

  Before I could scream, a door slammed open behind us. A guard rushed in, bleeding.  

  "Boss," he said urgently. "We found him."

  Damien didn't move. "Who did you find?"

  "Her father. He's at the gate. He's almost dead."

  The ground disappeared from under me.

  "Dad?" I whispered.

  Damien turned to me, his eyes burning with ownership.

  "You'll see him," he promised, stepping closer.

  His voice felt like fire sinking into me.

  "After we are married."

Damien's pov:

  "Get him inside," I snapped. My men rushed out to bring Gideon in. The heavy doors slammed shut, leaving the big room terrifyingly quiet.

  Sera hadn't moved. She was frozen, not like a statue, but like a small, trapped, beautiful thing cornered and shaking against the wall.

  Her huge, frightened eyes locked onto mine. "Why... why did you hurt him?"

  "I didn't," I answered, trying to sound calm even though my blood was boiling. "If I had, he'd be dead already."

  She flinched. A shiver of fear ran down her arms. "Then who did it?"

  "Someone who wants you hurt and broken," I said, staring at her. "And they want me to take the blame."

  She shook her head violently, tears starting to gather. "This is crazy! This whole thing, this place..."

  She gasped and stumbled back until she hit the cold wall.

  "Stay away from me." Her voice was a terrified plea, barely a whisper.

  "I've been doing just that," I told her, my voice low and rough. "For twelve long years."

  The confused pain in her eyes hit me, but I pushed it away. Not now.

 The doors burst open again and Luca carried Gideon in. The older man was barely breathing, his shirt was soaked with blood. He looked like a puppet with cut strings. Sera let out a scream. "Dad!"

  She tried to run to him. I grabbed her wrist, stopping her short. She jolted. "Let go of me!"

  "You can go to him," I whispered.

 She snatched her hand away and dropped to the floor next to her father.

  "Dad... Daddy.. please look at me," she cried, desperately trying to wipe the blood from his face.

  Gideon's hand twitched, reaching slightly. "S... Sera..."His voice was almost gone.

  Sera sobbed. "Who did this to you? What did they do?"

  His eyes found me, and I saw a flash of pure, cold terror. Good that he remembered his choice.

  "Gideon," I knelt down, forcing his gaze. "Look at me." He started shaking, his breath coming in panicky, short gasps.

  "You ran away," I reminded him. "You made a promise and you ran."

  "I-" He coughed, and a trickle of blood appeared on his lip.

  Sera looked horrified. "Dad, what promise? What is he talking about?"

 Gideon squeezed his eyes shut, unable to look at her.

  "Sera..." His voice cracked with pain. "I... I had no choice."

  "You always have a choice," I corrected, my tone hard. "You just didn't want to pay the cost."

  Sera turned on me, her eyes blazing with fury through her tears. "What did he promise? What cost?"

  I looked right back at her.

  "You."

  Her breathing stopped. She shook her head slowly, trying to push the horrifying word away. She looked back at her father, pleading.

  "Tell me he's lying. Dad. Please, tell me that isn't true."

  Gideon simply broke. He was a grown man, and he was shattering in front of her.

  "I'm sorry... Princess... I'm so sorry..."

  She recoiled, as if his words had physically slapped her. Her voice came out small, terrified, like a child's.

  "How could you do that? How could you give me away?"

  He tried to reach for her, but Luca stepped in.

  "Boss," Luca said quickly. "He needs a doctor now."

  "Take him," I commanded. "Two guards with him and no one goes near him."

  Luca carried Gideon away. Sera scrambled to follow, but I blocked her path again.

  "Move!" she hissed, her teeth clenched.

  "No." I said.

  She shoved me, hard. Again, and then a third time. I didn't even sway.

  "MOVE!" she screamed, heartbroken.

  I grabbed her wrists, not to hurt her, but to keep her standing. She was shaking uncontrollably.

  "He will live."

  "You don't know that!"

  "I do know," I cut in firmly, "that I did not do this. And someone wants you to hate me for it."

  Her breath hitched. Fear, confusion, and the pain of betrayal swirled in her eyes. "I just want to go home," she whispered, defeated.

  "You are home."

  "Stop saying that!" Her voice broke with a sob. "This is not my home!"

  "It's the only place you can be safe."

  She stepped back, staring at me like I was a monster and a difficult, terrifying truth all at once.

  "Boss, we need you," Luca called from the hall.

  I let go of her wrists. They fell to her sides, limp and helpless.

  "Go with Luca," I told her. "He'll take you to your.."

  "No."

  "Sera..."

  "I said no." Her chin lifted with a tiny, fragile act of defiance. "Tell me what you want. Why did you take me? Why did he have to promise me?"

  I looked at her, the real reasons burning hot in my chest. Because I loved the sound of your voice.. Because you trusted me... Because you were the only thing that mattered... Because I won't lose you again.

 But I couldn't say those words. Not yet.

  "You are here," I said slowly, carefully, "because someone is using you to hurt me."

  She froze. "Using me... how?"

  "By making you look like a weakness I can't control."

  "Control of what?"

  "Everything I have."

  One of my guards rushed in, breathing hard. "Boss the cameras. Someone inside gave away her location."

  Sera went pale. "What... what does that mean?"

  I looked right into her eyes.

  "It means someone who works for me wants you dead."

  Her mouth opened. She swallowed hard, her throat bobbing. A sharp, terrible new fear replaced the old ones. She didn't back away this time.

  I gently lifted her chin, making sure she couldn't look anywhere but at me.

  "You're not just a debt, Sera," I said quietly. "You are a target."

  She shivered.

  "So what happens now?" she whispered.

  I let my thumb touch her jaw, just once.

  "Now," I told her, my voice a solemn vow, "I find and destroy the traitor."

  "And me?" she whispered, trembling.

  "You stay right here, where I can see you."

  "Why?" Her voice was shaking, desperate. "Why do you care what happens to me?"

  Because I can't live without you... Because no one will ever touch what is mine... Because I love you.

  I forced the words back down.

  Luca reappeared, his face grave. "Boss. Gideon woke up for a second."

  Sera rushed forward. "Is he okay? Can I see him?"

  Luca glanced at me, then spoke slowly. "His exact words were... 'Tell Damien... fulfill the deal.'"

  Sera gasped, the sound ripped from her chest. "What... what does that mean?"

  I breathed out slowly. Twelve years of waiting, of silence, crashed into this single moment.

  "It means," I said, the words heavy and final, "your father just confirmed the promise he made to me."

  She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "No... no... you can't mean... "

  "I do."

  I stepped in close. Close enough for her to feel my presence like a wave. Close enough that she knew her world was changing forever. Close enough that there was no room for denial.

  "At dawn," I decreed, my voice a low, unbreakable promise, "we marry."

  Her eyes went wide, frozen in horror. Her lips parted, unable to make a sound. The truth hit her like a cannonball and I left her standing there. Broken, in shock, and completely mine.

Sera's POV:

  "I won't wear this!" I screamed, throwing the terrible silk wedding dress off the bed. It slid to the marble floor like a useless puddle. Two women, they were maids I guessed, though they looked as trapped as I felt. They both flashed each other a look of pure fear.

  "Miss Hale," the older one said, her voice shaking, "Mr. Damien needs you ready before the sun rises."

  "I am not marrying him," my voice cracks. "I absolutely refuse."

  "You can scream later," the younger one whispered, her eyes fixed on the dress. "Please, just get dressed."

  I held the robe tighter around my body. My heart hadn't stopped pounding since he spoke the word marry. "Don't come near me."

  "We won't," the older woman promised. "We just have orders to help you... prepare."

  Prepare. The word made me want to vomit. Prepare for a cage or prepare for my life taken from me. My legs felt weak. I stumbled into the bathroom and grabbed the edge of the sink until my fingers started hurting. My face stared back at me, I looked wild, my face was smeared with old tears, with a stain of my father's blood on my cheek from where I brushed against his shirt earlier.

  I looked utterly ruined.

  "Miss?" A maid stood at the doorway. "The bath is ready. If you don't hurry, the guards will have to..."

  "I said back away!" I shouted.

  She instantly disappeared.

  I sank into the hot water, trying to stop the endless shaking, but the heat didn't help. Dad gave me away. He promised me to this monster. The betrayal was a physical pain in my throat. I dipped my head under the water just to drown the sound of my own despair.

  *****

  The maids left me alone to dress. It was a small mercy. I quickly forced myself into the clothes-the soft silk underthings, the fitted dress, the slippers. Each layer felt less like clothing and more like a chain locking around my chest.

  When the women returned, they just gasped softly, then bowed their heads."You look perfect," the younger one murmured. No I don't . I look like a prisoner dressed for execution.

  Four men stood outside the door, they were all armed and looked massive. They watched me like I was a valuable object.

  "Where are we going?" I demanded.. but they all kept quiet.

  I took a step forward and two guards moved in front of me and two behind me. I panicked and asked again . "I asked you... where are we going?

  Yet no one answered me. They just kept moving.

  "Stop!" My voice rises. "STOP!"

  They didn't. I screamed the word, then jumped at the nearest guard. He instantly stepped back, his massive hands raised in surrender.

  "We can't touch you, Miss," he said quickly. "Those are the Boss's orders."

  "Then let me go!"

  "We can't do that either."

  My breath hitched. I started hitting him tiny, useless slaps against his hard chest. "Let. Me. GO!" He just stood there, letting me hit him, refusing to hold me, refusing to push me, letting me crumble into my own desperate rage.My vision got blurred with fresh tears. I couldn't stand straight anymore.

  "Sera."

  The sound of his voice, Damien's voice stopped the air in my lungs. I turned around and saw him standing at the end of the hall, hands behind his back, looking impossibly controlled in his black suit. His face looked unreadable. But I saw it. It was a tiny, painful flicker of something in his dark eyes. Something like hesitation or maybe regret.

  "Why are you doing this?" I whispered, suddenly exhausted.

  "Because you must be protected." His voice was low and firm. "And because your father made this your destiny a long time ago."

  "That is not protection," I whispered. "That's stealing my life."

  He took a slow step closer. The four guards instantly left, leaving space around us.

  "I will not touch you," he said, his hands still behind him. "Not unless you ask me to. Not unless you want me to."

  The words were cold and honest. They confused me more than anything he'd done so far.

  "You think that makes it okay?" I asked.

  "No." His jaw tightened. "But it gives you back the choice your father took."

  The air between us felt too thick to breathe. He stopped a few feet away, his gaze dropping to my violently shaking hands.

  "You're shaking," he stated.

  "No thanks to you."

  His expression hardened... and then softened.

  "Come here."

  "No."

  His brows lifted, a slow challenge. "You truly believe I am the danger right now?"

  "You are the danger!"

  He stepped closer slowly, watching me. I stumbled back, terrified. My slipper caught the edge of the rug. I gasped and lost my balance, he stretched his hands towards me. I thought he was going to catch me.

  But he stopped and his fingers stopped very close to my waist. He didn't make contact. He took his hand back with the effort of holding back.

  I managed to balance myself awkwardly with my heart beating very fast.

  "Why didn't you catch me?" I whispered, ashamed.

  His eyes were dark. "Because you don't want my hands on you."

  His honesty was painful and I couldn't look at him.

  "Turn around," he said gently.

  "Why?"

  "You have something stuck in your hair."

  "I don't.. "

  He moved before I could finish, slowly and carefully, raising his hand toward me but not touching me.

  "May I?" he asked.

  The simple request, after all the commands, was devastating. I gave a single, small nod. He carefully brushed a loose strand of hair from my cheek.. and paused. His palm was so close to my skin, warm, making me shiver. Then he leaned in, his breath soft against my ear.

  And then... his forehead touched mine. It was barely a touch, just the slightest pressure of skin against skin. I could feel the spark between us. My breath stopped and his' stopped too.

  "Breathe," he murmured, his voice rougher now. "I am not going to hurt you, Sera."

  My chest rose shakily.

  "That's it," he whispered.

  His hand lifted and moved down... and this time, he took my wrist. Not hard or forcefully, but to steady me. His thumb pressed lightly against my pulse point.

  "Do you feel that?" he asked.

  I swallowed, "My heartbeat?"

  "No." His forehead remained against mine, warm and solid. "You're still alive."

  He was telling me he was the shelter, not the storm.

  "I'm safe here?" I whispered, the feeling of his hand on my wrist strangely anchoring. "Why does it feel like I'm not?"

  He finally pulled back, just enough to look into my eyes.

  "Because," he said quietly, the warmth leaving me cold, "the people who want you dead haven't finished their job yet."

  The hallway grew colder and I felt a new kind of fear.

  "What do you mean?"

  He released my wrist, and I regret the sudden loss of his touch.

  "Your father woke up again," he said. "And he gave me a name."

  "A name?" I could barely form the word.

  Damien nodded once.

  "The person who tried to murder him," he said. "The person who told them where you were."

  My blood ran cold.

  "Who?" I whispered.

  Damien met my eyes, his voice was soft and controlling.

  "Your aunt."