Morning sunlight spilled through the hospital window, painting soft lines across Rhys's face. He blinked awake, momentarily forgetting where he was — until he felt the gentle weight of his mother's hand resting on his.
A nurse slipped quietly out of the room, leaving behind the faint smell of antiseptic and fresh flowers. Aurelia was still asleep, her breathing steady. Rhys sat up carefully, not wanting to wake her, and stretched out the stiffness from the long night.
For a moment, everything felt peaceful — almost normal.
Then his phone buzzed.
He frowned, reaching into his pocket. The screen lit up with an unknown number. Again.
He hesitated before opening it.
> S: Be ready by 10. Wear something decent.
P.S. — Don't be late. I hate waiting.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Of course it's her…"
He typed out a reply, then deleted it. There was no point — Seraphine always got the last word.
Leaning back in his chair, he glanced at his mother one more time before quietly stepping out of the room. The morning air hit him like a reminder — fresh but heavy with everything he didn't understand yet.
As he walked through the hospital corridor, his mind kept circling back to last night. Her words. Her father. The contract.
Who exactly are you, Seraphine Calder?
Rhys sat back in his car, the hum of the engine steady beneath him. For the first time, he'd taken up his father's offer to use the family car — but only for one reason.
To avoid her.
He parked near the café just across from his college, hoping to blend into the normal hum of morning chatter and coffee cups clinking. But fate, apparently, had other plans.
Because there she was.
Seraphine Calder — calm, radiant, and already looking straight at him.
It felt like the more he tried to run, the faster she caught up — always two steps ahead, like she could read his mind.
She stood up as he walked in, her voice cutting through the low buzz of the café.
"Trying to get away?" she asked, her smirk sharp but her tone firm.
Rhys gave a small laugh. "Maybe. But you make that pretty hard."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "I gave you a chance, Rhys. You chose this. So forget about escaping—"
"Whoa, whoa," he interrupted smoothly, stepping closer, his voice warm and teasing. "Come on, don't tell me you're still mad about last night?"
His sudden shift in tone threw her off — the confidence, the charm, the way his words carried that trace of affection.
Before she could respond, he reached out, gently wrapping his hand around her arm.
She stiffened instantly.
"Hey—" she hissed softly, glancing around. "Everyone might get the wrong idea."
Rhys leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, a sly smile curving on his lips.
"Does it even matter?"
For the first time, she didn't have a quick retort. Her composure faltered — just for a second — and he saw something rare in her eyes.
Nervousness.
Seraphine turned abruptly, her composure slipping for the first time. Without another word, she walked away — her heels clicking against the pavement, echoing faintly in the morning air.
Rhys watched her go, a dozen thoughts chasing each other in his mind. What's her deal? What's she hiding?
But beneath that confusion, a spark lit up — quiet, determined.
If Seraphine Calder wanted to play games, then maybe it was time he started playing too.
He jogged after her, ready to confront her again — but froze mid-step.
Because standing ahead were the last people he wanted to see.
The Marcellins.
His mother's family.
He ducked slightly behind a parked car, his pulse quickening. There was no mistaking them — the sharp suits, the guarded expressions, the aura of quiet power that came with every step they took.
And then he saw her.
Seraphine. Standing before them — not defiant, not bold, but respectful.
She bowed.
His stomach dropped.
One of the women stepped forward — his aunt. The one he hadn't seen in years.
"I know," she said softly, resting a hand on Seraphine's shoulder. "And I believe you can do this, Sera. This empire will always stand behind you. Accept it."
Seraphine's expression flickered — unreadable — as his aunt gave her a gentle pat and turned to leave, her car pulling away smoothly moments later.
Rhys stood frozen in place, his thoughts spiraling.
The Marcellins. His aunt. Seraphine.
It all collided in his mind like shattered glass.
The girl he was just starting to trust — the one who'd turned his world upside down — was connected to the very people he'd been trying to escape his whole life.
And for the first time, he realized something terrifying.
She wasn't just here by chance.
She was here for him.
It was planned all along — and nothing else.
Rhys had prayed silently that her Calder name was just that — a name, not an actual connection to the royals.
But fate had a cruel sense of humor.
The Calders and Marcellins — two legacies that had once torn the underworld apart — had somehow grown close again in the modern world. Fifteen years of uneasy peace. Fifteen years of silence that hid far too much.
He walked right past Seraphine, his steps heavy but composed.
She caught sight of him and immediately ran after, masking her unease behind a teasing grin.
"Hey… so, babe."
Rhys stopped. Turned.
The look in his eyes wasn't one she'd ever seen before — steady, unreadable, but burning with something colder underneath.
For a heartbeat, her chest tightened. Did he already find out? That I'm using him?
Then, breaking her thoughts, his lips curved into a faint mocking smile.
"Yeah, babe," he said, tone dripping with irony. "What's up?"
She tilted her head, feigning playfulness. "Anyway, there's something waiting for tonight. It's gonna be grand—it's my birthday. Don't forget to be there. It's an order."
He raised a brow. "An order, huh?"
He was about to refuse — to ask where, who, and why — but stopped mid-thought.
If it's her birthday… then others will be there. Maybe even the Marcellins.
Seraphine's voice pulled him back.
"Well, it's only young people—our age. The real party's tomorrow. More like a business meeting," she said with a soft chuckle.
Rhys forced a smile, hiding the storm in his head.
"Sure," he replied simply.
She walked off, light and effortless as always, while he stood still — his fake smile fading the moment she turned her back.
Because tonight, he wasn't just going to a birthday party.
He was walking straight into the center of her game.
"Watch me uncover you, Miss Calder."
Rhys straightened, jaw set. Now I'll show you what a Hayes can do.
He let the words hang between them—quiet, almost private—but they carried the weight of a promise. He wasn't backing down. If she'd tried to drag a Hayes into her game, he'd answer in kind.
Tonight, he told himself, would be his first real step into a world he'd always tried to avoid. He'd go in smooth, look the part, and use their own power against them. Break the game from the inside.
He pulled out his phone and dialed. "Prepare something sharp," he said into the line. "Make it clean—no loud logos. I'll need something that gets me looked at for the right reasons."
A pause, a quick confirmation over the call. He ended it and tucked his phone away, the plan already forming in his head like the first confident strokes of a map.
Rhys walked off, the weight of the hundred days pressing in—but this time it felt different. It felt like a challenge he could meet.
But something else was waiting for him .....