SERAPHINA

Noise first-running feet, shouts that blurred into one another. I fought to pry my eyes open, but the dark met me like a wall. I waved a hand before my face, fingers slicing through air I could feel but not see. Nothing. Just black, thick as water.

"W-What happened?" The words fell flat in the quiet.

My head throbbed, every muscle singing with ache. I tried to sit up, limbs heavy as stone. Dead? Hit by a car? I clawed at memory, but it slipped like soap. Car? What was I doing before...

I touched my forehead, then my eyelids-they were open, I could feel the stretch of skin. So why was the world gone?

Fragments clicked into place, sharp and sudden: the old woman hunched on the sidewalk, the glint of a knife, the van's rust-colored door slamming shut.

Right. I'd fought with Mama at dawn-she'd screamed about dropping out, said school was a waste of money I didn't have. I'd stormed out, walking to campus when I saw them drag her in, saw the blade tear through her cotton shirt. I'd run without thinking, feet slamming against asphalt.

What came after? I squeezed my lids shut, chasing the ghost of it.

Then I remembered.

"He sprayed something in my eyes!" I jolted upright, sheets twisting around my legs.

My heart hammered against my ribs, so hard I felt it in my throat. I spun my head side to side, hands scrabbling over cool linen. The dark didn't shift.

The truth landed slow and heavy, pressing the air from my lungs.

"Am I... blind? Did I lose my sight?" My voice cracked, thin as spider silk. Hot tears tracked down my cheeks, and I didn't bother to wipe them away. Blind.

How will I finish school? My work? How can I make something of myself when I can't even find my own hands? Fear coiled in my gut, tight as a spring. They'll hate me more now.

If they'd resented me when I could see-when I'd scraped for every peso to pay tuition-what would they do now?

I drew a shaky breath, forcing my hands to unclench. That's when I heard it: a door opening, soft as a whisper, then closing. No footsteps, no words.

"H-Hello? Is anyone there?"

A pause, then a quiet clearing of throat. "I take it you've realized your condition, Miss Mortez." The voice was calm, even-like pouring water into a glass. A doctor, maybe.

"Am I really blind?" My hands trembled in my lap, knuckles white.

"For now. But it isn't permanent. We expect full sight back within a year-maybe sooner."

A year. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, but the knot in my chest didn't loosen. A year in darkness... who would take me in?

"W-What about the woman I tried to help? Is she okay?"

Another pause-long enough I could almost feel her looking at me. "You're worried about her, even now?" A hint of warmth in her laugh. "She's stable. Healing well."

Something lightened in my chest. The doctor spoke of swelling, of treatment, of drops I'd need to take-but the words slid off me, leaving only one thought: Mama.

"Would you like us to contact your family? We can have someone call them."

I froze. "I... I don't know their numbers by heart." My voice sounded small, lost.

"I see. We'll find a way to-" The door slammed open so hard the frame rattled, wood groaning in protest.

"Seraphina!"

My breath caught. Mama.

"Ma'am, please-you can't just enter without-"

"M-Mama?" I cut through the doctor's protest, relief warring with dread so sharp it made my teeth ache. "How did you find me? I was so scared-"

A slap cracked through the air, landing hard on my cheek. I cried out, clutching my face as numbness spread over my skin. I didn't know where to turn-there was nowhere to look.

"Damn you! Useless enough before-now you're blind and good for nothing!" Her voice bounced off the walls, harsh and sharp.

"Mama, I didn't mean-"

Another slap, harder this time. My head spun, and I tasted copper on my tongue.

"You've never brought anything but curse to this house! Why did I even have you?"

Her words cut deeper than any blow. I heard her shouting at the doctor, voice rising and falling like broken glass. It was nothing new-Mama's anger had always been a storm I couldn't outrun. I mumbled for the doctor to let her stay, my voice flat and heavy as stone.

The air in the room thickened, warm and sour with anger. Without sight, every sense felt amplified: the shift of the mattress as she sat beside me, the rasp of her breath, the faint smell of sweat and cooking oil clinging to her clothes. I hunched against the headboard, waiting.

"Your Aunt Aning showed up at the house to tell me where you were, you fool!" She snapped. "What are we supposed to do with you now?"

"I don't know, Mama. I don't know." My shoulders slumped, and the cane beside the bed felt like a weight I'd already been carrying.

So close to graduating. I'd counted every day, every exam, every paper I'd written by hand because we couldn't afford a computer. Now it all felt like smoke. Even if my sight came back-if-would anything be the same?

Silence stretched between us, long and tight. Then she spoke, and the words shredded what little hope I had left.

"I've decided. I'm selling you to Don Tiago. You're no use to us like this."

"Mama! I'm not a thing to be sold!" I cried out, hands fisting in the sheets until my knuckles burned.

She smacked my thigh, hard enough to make me flinch. "What else? You can't study, can't work-you'll just drain us dry. We need to take care of Hera, not clean up your messes!"

My chest tightened until I could barely breathe. How could she let me go so easy? What had I done to make her look at me like I was nothing more than a burden to be traded?

"At least with the governor, we'll get paid. You'll finally be worth something-and you'll live in a real house!"

Fear pricked at my skin, cold and sharp. Governor Tiago... the stories drifted through my head-whispers of young women taken to his estate, never seen again. Before I could speak, the world tilted, and darkness swallowed me whole.

"Sera! Are you done yet? Hurry-Hera's gonna fix your face so you don't look like you've been crying all week."

I dropped my head, fingers wrapped around the smooth wood of my cane. Two days had passed since I'd woken up blind. Papa had yelled until his voice gave out-exactly what I'd expected.

"I'm ready," I said, voice flat as I sat on the edge of the bed. Footsteps approached, quick and light, then Hera's voice cut through the air.

"Ugh. Why did you have to go and get yourself blinded? Now you're gonna be that creep's toy." Her fingers were cold as she grabbed my chin, dabbing something sweet-smelling on my cheeks.

I said nothing. My heart was already in pieces-what more could she do to hurt me?

"Ah well. Thanks for the money, though! Finally getting out of this hole. Guess you are the breadwinner after all."

I let her pull me to my feet, let Mama adjust my dress-too tight, too fancy, nothing I'd ever wear on my own. When they said the governor was here, they guided me toward the door, their hands heavy on my arms.

"What's wrong with you? Stop crying!" Mama hissed, pinching my side hard enough to make me gasp.

Who wouldn't cry when their own family is selling them? But I bit my tongue, letting her drag me forward.

"Stop it! You're making us look bad!" Hera complained beside me.

I was almost grateful for the dark-grateful I wouldn't have to see his face, or the greed shining in my family's eyes.

"Gov!" Mama called out, her voice bright as polished glass.

"Oh, Mrs. Mortez! Is this the girl?" The voice was slick, oily-like warm grease sliding over stone. I could almost picture his smile, too wide, too sharp.

How do I get away?

"Yes, sir! Isn't she beautiful?" Mama trilled.

"Beautiful indeed. Perfect, just perfect."

"Are you happy now, Mama?" The words slipped out before I could stop them, quiet as dust.

She pinched me again, and I let out a laugh that sounded like broken glass.

What else could I expect from people who never saw me as their own?

I listened as they haggled, voices rising and falling over numbers I tried not to hear. Then a hand wrapped around my arm-warm, but firm enough to make my skin crawl.

"You're a lovely thing, sweetheart," he murmured in my ear, his breath hot against my neck.

I didn't move, didn't speak, letting him lead me toward what I assumed was his car. But before I could take another step, a voice cut through the noise-deep, cold, and sharp as a blade.

"Negotiating human trafficking... is that how you conduct business, Gov Tiago?"

Even I froze, every muscle going tight. The hand on my arm squeezed hard with panic.

"V-Vitale! What are you doing here?" The governor's voice shook.

Vitale?

"I'm here for Seraphina Mortez. And it seems you're holding her against her will."

The governor shoved me away so fast I stumbled, my cane clattering to the ground. Strong arms caught me before I hit the dirt, pulling me close against a chest solid as stone. His scent filled my lungs-clean pine, something sharp and warm like wood smoke.

"W-What do you want with me?" I asked, my hands finding his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket.

"Not now. We'll talk later. Just hold on." His voice was low, steady-impossible to resist.

"W-Wait! She's our daughter-" Papa stammered.

"How much did he offer you?" The man cut him off, his tone leaving no room for lies.

"H-Huh?"

"I won't ask again."

"Five hundred thousand dollars."

Five hundred thousand. I'd worked three jobs for a year to save a tenth of that. I wasn't surprised-nothing about this should have surprised me.

"I'll pay triple. In exchange, you forget Seraphina Mortez was ever your daughter. No claims, no contact. And if you ever try to find her..." He paused, and the silence that followed was more terrifying than any threat.

"You'll regret it."

I heard my family scrambling, voices rising in panic and greed all at once. Then strong arms lifted me off my feet, and I wrapped my legs around his waist instinctively, clinging to his neck. I said nothing as he carried me to a car, setting me gently on seats soft as buttered leather.

"Stay here. I'll handle the rest." He closed the door, leaving me alone in the quiet dark-wondering who this man was, and why he'd pulled me from a fate I'd already begun to accept.

THIRD PERSON'S POINT OF VIEW

"What do you even want with her?! She's got nothing to give-why throw money away on-" Sera's mother's words choked off as the stranger turned his eyes to her. The look in them was sharp as a blade, cutting through her bluster.

"Be quiet." His voice was flat, cold as wet concrete. He tossed a briefcase to the dirt at their feet.

It popped open. Cash spilled over the edges-thick stacks of bills that caught the sun and made their pupils widen. Confusion faded first, then worry, then anything that looked like care for Sera. Money was all they'd ever hungered for, and this man was offering more than they'd dared to ask for their daughter.

The stranger glanced at the governor, who stared at his own shoes. His jaw worked, hands trembling at his sides. He knew the name-whispered in boardrooms and back alleys, tied to power and things best left unspoken. Dangerous. Way out of his depth. Better to step aside and let the girl go.

Inside the car, Sera sat in dark so deep it felt like a blanket pressed over her face. She mapped the world with what she had left: the hum of the engine under her palms, the clean smell of leather, the faint scent of something woodsy from the front seat. Yesterday, she could have picked out the purple of bougainvillea or the burnt orange of a street lamp. Now there was only this-endless, heavy night.

The door swung open. Someone slid in beside her, and she flinched, pressing back against the doorframe, arms wrapped tight around her knees. She couldn't see his face, couldn't read his hands-if he meant to hurt her, she'd have nowhere to run.

"You're safe now. I won't hurt you."

His voice was low, cool as river water-and it sent shivers up her spine. She held her breath, too scared to make a sound.

"From what I hear, you're blind. Not mute, though."

"I'm not mute." The words burst out before she could stop them. She wanted to clamp her hand over her mouth-why had she answered so fast?

A soft laugh rumbled in his chest, a sound that made warmth prickle at her neck and shoulders.

"Good. No fun in a toy that can't speak up."

Her jaw tightened. She turned toward him, even though all she saw was black.

She couldn't believe it. The urge to throw herself from the moving car was so strong she had to grip the door handle until her knuckles ached.

"W-What-do you want my body too?!" She trembled, fingers fumbling to make the sign of the cross as the car pulled onto the highway. "It's wrong to force someone-that's rape! I won't-I won't sleep with anyone! Blind doesn't mean helpless-I can fight you! What's so funny?!"

He laughed again, even as tears stung her eyes, hot and thick.

"Hmm... really? But what if you're my wife?"

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. Anger flared up, hot enough to burn through fear.

"Non-consent is rape, no matter who you are-husband, stranger, anyone! Wait-wife? What are you talking about?!" Terror seized her all over again. Had she traded one nightmare for something worse?

He only hummed in reply, and said nothing more for the rest of the ride. He didn't touch her, didn't lean close. Eventually, exhaustion pulled her under, and she fell into a sleep so deep she didn't feel the car slow down.

Night had settled over the city by the time they arrived: a sprawling estate tucked into Chateau de Taltal, one of the capital's most exclusive villages. The man stepped out of the car, his shoulders set, his gaze as cold as the air. Even in dim light, his eyes stood out-emerald green, sharp as chips of glass.

"Sir Lucian! The madam's inside-she's been waiting."

A guard jogged over, breathless.

"Tell her to hold on. I need a minute."

The guard nodded and vanished into the mansion as Lucian leaned against the car's hood, arms crossed, eyes closed.

This wasn't why he'd come to the Philippines. How had he ended up playing hero, chasing after a girl he'd never met?

[FLASHBACK]

"Sir! The hospital's on the phone!"

Lucian's brow furrowed as his man approached, phone held out with a tight, worried look. He didn't ignore panic-not from his people.

He peeled off blood-stained gloves, tossed his baseball bat to the floor, and stepped over a bleeding hand without a glance. He pulled out his vape, took a slow hit of mint, then answered.

"Is this Mr. Vitale?" A woman's voice, careful and strained.

Lucian exhaled a thin cloud of smoke. "Yeah. What does Ferrer want?" He spoke flatly, gesturing for his men to clear the room.

"Sir... your grandmother-"

He hung up. Striding to his car, he slammed his palm against the steering wheel as the engine roared to life.

"Damn it, old woman!" He pressed his foot to the gas, worry coiling hot in his chest. She was all the family he had left.

"Ma'am, please-you'll pull your stitches!"

Lucian heard the nurses' shouts before he even reached the room. Of course she was causing a scene-stubbornness was as much a part of her as her fortune.

Relief washed over him when he saw her. Alive. Bruised, with a bandage wrapped tight around her side, but her eyes were bright as ever.

"What's all the noise for?" he called out as he walked in, and every head turned. People always noticed him-his sharp features, the way he filled a room without trying. But no one felt the weight of him the way she did.

She threw a pillow at his head. He caught it easily, tucking it aside.

"What now?" He pulled a chair beside her bed, nodded for the nurses to leave. She quieted once the door clicked shut.

He leaned back, studying her pale face.

"This is about that again, isn't it?"

She didn't answer, staring at the ceiling, her expression soft with sadness.

"I was taken again, L," she said quietly. "But a girl saved me."

He raised an eyebrow, waiting.

"She was... kind. Not just to me-she saw trouble and ran straight into it, even though she didn't know me. And in the end... she lost her sight because of it."

Lucian's jaw tightened. He heard the catch in her voice, saw tears tracking down her cheeks.

"Stop crying. You're not a kid." He stood, pulling her into a gentle embrace, rubbing her back until she calmed.

She sobbed harder. "W-What'll happen to her? The nurses said her own mother was here yesterday-treated her like she was trash..."

He clicked his tongue. "This isn't a story. Maybe it's not as bad as you think-"

She looked up at him, and he knew she'd seen through his gruffness. She was the only one who ever could.

After a few minutes, she settled. He was peeling an apple with a small silver knife when she spoke again.

"Find her, L." Her voice was firm, no room for argument.

He huffed a laugh. "Back to your old self?"

She shot him a glare. "I haven't cried like that in decades. But I mean it-find her for me."

"Why should I? I've got work." He kept his voice cold, but she only stared him down.

"Fine. Then you can stay out of the Philippines for good-"

"What's the point?" he cut in.

She smiled, slow and knowing. "I want to pay her back. If I have all this and can't even thank the person who saved my life... what good is any of it?"

"You're wasting your time. You should go back to Italy for the show."

She cackled, wincing as she pressed a hand to her side. "Idiot-look at me. I'm not going anywhere."

He couldn't argue with that. She was infuriating.

"Did you handle the ones who took you?"

"Of course I did." She raised an eyebrow. "I own a hundred brands, built this with my own hands-reporters are already lining up for a statement."

Lucian said nothing, but her next words made him pause, knife stilling over the apple.

"Find her... and marry her, L. Make it my last wish."

So he had. At first, he'd only planned to find the girl to quiet his grandmother-marriage was never part of the deal. But seeing Sera standing there, her shoulders tight with fear, even her closed eyes couldn't hide how clear her spirit was. Something shifted in him then-sharp, sudden, and impossible to ignore. He'd give his grandmother exactly what she wanted.

Lucian had always been drawn to beautiful women-his reputation as a playboy was well-earned. But this girl... a blind woman from the provinces, who'd risked everything for a stranger. Who would have guessed she'd make his chest feel tight, like he'd swallowed something warm and sharp?

A man known across the globe... pulled in by someone he'd just met?

A slow smile touched his lips as he looked through the car window at Sera, still sleeping, her mouth slightly parted.

"Hmm. What's with that look?"

He turned to see his associate walking over. "Get me a lawyer. And a marriage contract-ready to sign."

His eyes drifted back to her lips, pink and soft in the glow of the estate lights.

"I'm getting married. Damn it."

THIRD PERSON'S POINT OF VIEW

Sera stirred awake to cool air pricking her skin, the sheets soft and crisp against her arms. She pushed herself up, a sharp sound slipping out before she could stop it.

"Shit-why is it so dark... oh." She pressed a hand to her forehead, fingers tracing the ridge of her brow as a bitter smile touched her lips. "Right. I'm blind."

She opened her mouth to speak again when a laugh rang out-warm, with a hint of mischief that made her purse her lips.

"W-Who are you? Where am I? The man who brought me here-what happened to him?"

"Calm down, my dear. Can't you recognize my voice?" The woman cut in, her laughter settling into gentle warmth.

Sera furrowed her brow, confusion knotting in her chest. How would I know her voice when I've only heard it once, in the chaos of that day?

"I-I'm sorry. I can't see you, so... I don't recognize you." She spoke carefully, fingers twisting in the sheets-cool cotton, smoother than anything she'd ever owned.

"Oh... of course. That was thoughtless of me."

Sera focused on the room around her: faint movement to her left, the soft rustle of fabric, a scent like lavender and old books. Then warm hands closed around hers-firm but gentle, palms rough with calluses from work or age. She flinched, trying to pull back.

"W-What are you-"

"My dear... I owe you more than I can ever say." The woman squeezed her hands, her grip steady. "If not for you, I wouldn't be here now."

The words hit Sera hard, sending a jolt through her shoulders. Recognition flooded her mind, and her eyes widened behind closed lids-even though all she saw was black.

"You're the woman from the van. The one they took." She gasped, and the older woman chuckled, a low, rich sound.

Relief lit up Sera's face, and she squeezed the woman's hands back, her fingers finding the ridges of scars on the back of the older woman's knuckles.

"Are you okay? How's your side-did the wound heal? Did they catch the ones who did it?" Questions tumbled out one after another, and the grandmother's expression softened-though Sera couldn't see it.

She really is something, the grandmother thought, her gaze lingering on Sera's earnest face. After everything she's been through, she asks about me first.

Her eyes drifted to the doorway, where her grandson leaned against the frame-one leg crossed over the other, arms folded across his chest. She could feel the weight of his stare, cold as winter, even as he pulled out his vape and took a slow hit. She tilted her head slightly, a silent Told you so passing between them. He exhaled a thin cloud of mint-scented smoke, his eyes never leaving Sera.

"Grandma? Why aren't you answering? Are you hurt again?"

The grandmother turned back, giving Sera's hands another squeeze.

"I'm perfectly fine-all thanks to you." She reached up to cup Sera's cheek, her touch light as a feather. "But because of what happened to me, you lost one of the most precious things a person can have."

Sera shook her head, her voice steady and clear. "No-never say that. I chose to help you. You didn't do anything wrong."

A wide, genuine smile spread across her face, and even in the dim light, it lit up the room.

"I'm really okay, I swear. The doctors said my sight will come back-eventually."

"Even so, I know how hard this must be." The grandmother's voice grew quiet. "When? How long will you have to live like this?"

Sera fell silent. The question landed deep in her chest-she had no answer, no timeline to hold onto.

"I-I should go home." She spoke carefully, her fingers still twisted in the sheets. "If you want to pay me... please don't waste money on me. Everything's so expensive now-even a piece of candy costs more than it used to." Her words were earnest, free of greed. She'd acted out of kindness, not for reward-she hadn't the faintest idea if this woman was rich or poor.

The grandmother opened her mouth to respond when her grandson stepped forward, his voice sharp as broken glass.

"Go home? Have you already forgotten your family sold you to that governor?"

Sera froze, her body going rigid. The memory crashed over her-her mother's slap, the sound of cash counting, the governor's oily hands on her arm.

She bit her lip so hard she tasted copper, dropping her head. Words stuck in her throat, her thoughts spinning into chaos.

"And you bought me from them." Her voice was barely a whisper, fear creeping back in. "So aren't you going to do the same thing? Like you said in the car?" It felt like nothing had changed-she was just property traded from one stranger to another.

Before panic could take hold, the grandmother pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her close. "Don't be scared, Seraphina. We will never hurt you-never let you suffer here."

"H-Huh?" Sera pulled back slightly, bewildered. How does she know my full name?

The grandmother stroked her back, her voice soft as silk. "You have nothing to worry about. My grandson and I will take care of every single one of your troubles. Until your sight returns, he'll look after you-make things easier however he can."

"I still don't understand-"

"This is the only way I can thank you, Sera." The grandmother cut her off gently. "I won't give you money-you've made it clear you don't want that. Instead, I'm offering you a chance to build something better. And you need to accept it-this is your only real choice."

Sera was speechless, staring into the dark as her mind raced. Should I say yes? Something felt off-why would this man, this stranger, care for her? What did he want in return?

Could he really mean it? That I'm supposed to be his wife?

She bit down on her lip, hard. The grandmother was right-her family had cast her aside like trash. This might be her only shot at stability. But trusting strangers felt like walking off a cliff with her eyes closed.

"C-Can I think about it first?"

The words were barely out when a loud CRASH echoed through the room-Lucian had slammed his fist on the side table, sending a glass of water rattling.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Don't tell me you're actually thinking of going back to those leeches!" His voice boomed, raw anger lacing every word.

He couldn't make sense of his own frustration-watching her hesitate, knowing she might choose to return to people who'd used her their whole lives. She was so gentle, so willing to forgive... it made him want to shake some sense into her.

"Brat!" The grandmother snapped, her brow furrowed.

But Lucian didn't care. He needed to cut through her kindness, make her see the truth.

"You're too damn nice for your own good. They've been using you all along, and you let them! Are you really that naive? Maybe losing your sight was the only way to make you see how they treat you. For fuck's sake-how can you be so-"

A pillow flew across the room and smacked him square in the face.

He stood frozen, staring at the spot where Sera sat-shocked silent. Did she just throw a pillow at me?

"Why are you shouting?! I'm not deaf!" Her voice cracked with irritation. "You're yelling like you're through a megaphone, and I'm just trying to talk!"

Both Lucian and his grandmother stared at her, stunned. Then the grandmother burst into peals of laughter.

"Oh my God-you're perfect!" She cackled, wiping tears from her eyes.

Sera flushed, embarrassment warring with anger. She'd thought the older woman would be upset-but instead, she sounded delighted.

"I-I'm sorry," she mumbled, fidgeting with the edge of the sheet.

The grandmother quieted, looking at her with warmth in her eyes. She didn't speak, but Lucian knew exactly what she wanted-don't tell her yet.

"Enough of this." Lucian waved a hand toward the door, where a man stepped inside, the thick folder under his arm rustling with every step. He set it on the table, the paper crisp and heavy, and took a seat across from them.

Sera tensed, sensing the new presence-the faint smell of ink and cologne, the sound of his breathing, steady and calm. Who is this?

"Ms. Mortez. I'm Attorney Chavez." The man's voice was smooth and professional. "First-do you truly intend to return to your family?"

Sera's breath hitched. An attorney? Why is there a lawyer here?

"I-I don't know."

The three of them exchanged glances. "This is a chance you won't get again," the attorney continued. "Are you really going to turn it down? Would you rather struggle while the people who sold you live off the money they got for you?"

The question twisted in her chest, her thoughts a tangled mess. She couldn't see the faces around her, couldn't tell if they were being honest-all she had were their words, their voices, the weight of their presence in the room.

She stayed quiet, lost in thought, until the grandmother placed her hand over hers on the table. Sera felt the stiff texture of paper beneath her fingertips-official, final.

"This is a contract," Lucian said, his voice low. "It outlines how we'll protect and support you, as repayment for what you did for my grandmother."

"A contract? Do we need that?" Sera whispered, confusion clouding her mind. "What for?"

The attorney cleared his throat and began to explain-the terms, the care they'd provide, the life they were offering while she lived under their roof. But what Sera didn't know was that the words on the page held a secret she never could have imagined.

This wasn't just about repayment. The contract bound her to be Lucian's wife-in name, at first, but with a condition neither of them would speak aloud: he needed an heir.

From the start, fate had kept her in the dark-her blindness leaving her unaware of everything around her. But even if she could see, she never would have guessed the truth: the man who'd bought her freedom wasn't just a wealthy businessman.

Lucian Vitale was a high-ranking member of the Bratva-the most powerful mafia organization in Russia.