The kiss had been a harsh, necessary stopper. A dark, desperate silence settled between them after I pulled back, lungs burning.
"...ENOUGH. NOTHING WILL HAPPEN," the man's voice, deep and laced with a strained control, was a low rumble in my ear. His hands cupped my face, his thumbs gently smoothing over my cheeks, though his eyes—the color of shadowed jade—were fierce.
I stared up at him, my heart hammering against my ribs, an animal caught in a trap. I had been on the verge of collapsing, the familiar, crushing despair too much to bear.
"SO CALM DOWN," he instructed, his tone firm. "YOU'LL COLLAPSE AGAIN IF YOU GET AGITATED."
I looked away, tears stinging the corners of my eyes. The adrenaline faded, leaving me hollow. A profound sense of defeat washed over me. I allowed myself to slump forward, resting my head against his chest, clutching the pristine white fabric of his shirt in my fist—SQUEEZE—until my knuckles went white.
"...I FEEL LOST," I whispered against his collarbone, the confession barely audible.
He held me, his arm wrapping securely around my shoulders. This moment of intimacy was a confusing paradox; the warmth of his embrace offered comfort, yet the source of my turmoil stood right here.
I pulled back just enough to look at him again, the resentment boiling over. "I CAN'T JUST LET THAT MAN STAY HERE, BUT EVERYONE'S ON HIS SIDE."
His expression softened slightly, a flicker of something close to pity. "TRY NOT TO RESENT SIR EISER TOO MUCH," he advised. His gaze grew serious, distant. "WITHOUT HIS HELP, THE FAMILY AND THE HOTEL WOULD'VE BEEN IN A VERY BAD SITUATION."
"HIS HELP?" I flared up, shoving his chest. I felt a surge of cold, furious rejection. "I NEVER WANTED HIS HELP!"
He was quick, rising an inch above me—LIFT—forcing me to meet his stare. My breath hitched.
"GRANDMA WAS THE ONE THAT DECIDED EVERYTHING!" I shouted, the words thick with frustration, my voice echoing in the hushed space.
He regarded my anger with a weary understanding.
"I KNOW HE'S CAPABLE. AND I KNOW HE ACCOMPLISHED WHAT I COULDN'T." My own failure, the one thing I couldn't deny, was a bitter pill.
The man's head tilted slightly, a shadow crossing his face. "THAT'S BECAUSE HE'S A MAN OF THE GRAYAN FAMILY." A statement of simple, undeniable fact, yet delivered with a certain cold pride.
I laughed, a sharp, humorless sound that broke the silence. My eyes were wide and glittering with a mixture of pain and terror.
"BUT AS CAPABLE AS HE IS, HE'S ALSO DANGEROUS." I spat out, my voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "ALSO BECAUSE HE'S A MAN OF THE GRAYAN FAMILY!"
My own words, fierce and shaking, hung heavy in the opulent air, highlighting the danger I had just pointed out. I stared at the man, but his image seemed to distort, replaced by the calculating blue eyes of another man—the one who truly held the power of the Grayan name, the one who had "helped" the family.
A cold certainty settled in my stomach.
(The man who offered 'help', likely Sir Eiser, is speaking internally here:)
Right now, it looks like he's saved Serenity, but I'm sure he'll show his true colors soon.
I'm certain he's going to hand Serenity over to the Grayan family.
And if I get in the way...
The silent realization was a suffocating pressure. I saw the image of the man who had helped, his profile sharp and cold against a backdrop of swirling darkness and ominous purple light. The thought came unbidden, paralyzing in its terror.
...HE'LL KILL ME.
My heart gave a sickening THROB. A terrible, twisted idea formed, born of desperation and a fierce, possessive love. If I couldn't protect her from the Grayan grip, maybe I could shield her from their taint.
I'd rather have Serenity die nobly with me... THAN LET IT FALL INTO THE HANDS OF THE GRAYAN FAMILY.
The fear and rage drained out of me, replaced by a hollow ache. My hand, which had been pressed against my temple in anguish, dropped. PLOP. I crumbled slowly, the silk of my purple dress pooling on the marble floor as I sank to my knees.
I let out a long, shuddering SIGH.
GRASP. My fingers clenched tightly onto the material of my dress, a futile grip on something tangible as everything else felt like it was slipping away.
"MY BELOVED HOUSE…" The words were a choked lament, a farewell to the life and security I had failed to uphold. I bowed my head, the long black hair falling forward to hide my face, tears finally coming in silent, hot rivers.
The darkness of my inner thoughts seemed to grow.
My Serenity is fading away...
A final, somber judgment echoed in a colder, unseen corner of the world.
"VERY WELL. MAKE SURE YOU HANDLE THE MATTER OF THE EIGHT FAMILIES CAREFULLY."
The game was not over, but the pieces—including me—were falling into their predestined, painful places.
This passage ends with a note that seems to introduce the next chapter or segment, focusing on the character Serenity and the larger political power struggle involving "the matter of the eight families."
Eiser, the true power behind the recent shifts, sat enthroned on the deep velvet armchair, a picture of calculating authority. His white hair was perfectly coiffed, his lips a fierce red against his pallor, and the deep green of his gown was accented by heavy, elaborate jewels. He held a delicate porcelain goblet, the silver rim catching the light.
"IT WAS SOMETHING I WANTED TO TAKE CARE OF DURING MY YEARS HERE, BUT THE CIRCUMSTANCES DIDN'T ALLOW US AT THE TIME." Eiser's voice was gravelly, yet carried the undeniable ring of authority. He was referring to the long-standing, complicated ties with the powerful "eight families."
The Man in the Suit—calm, impeccably dressed, and radiating competence—sat opposite him, submitting his report.
"IT WON'T BE EASY TO BREAK OFF THE TRADITION, NOW THAT SO MUCH OF OUR BUSINESS IS INTERTWINED WITH THEM," the Man in the Suit observed, the goblet momentarily paused halfway to Eiser's lips.
"THERE'S NO NEED TO WORRY, I ALREADY HAVE A BACKUP PLAN READY FOR THAT," Eiser replied smoothly, meeting the Man in the Suit's gaze.
Eiser took a slow sip, placing the goblet back onto the side table with a faint, musical CLINK. He watched the Man in the Suit over the rim, his sharp, green eyes narrowing slightly.
"IT LOOKS LIKE... SERENA IS CAUSING YOU THE MOST TROUBLE."
The Man in the Suit did not flinch, his demeanor remaining placid. "NOT AT ALL." He subtly shifted his weight, his legs uncrossing.
Eiser reached for a small, leather-bound notebook that lay nearby, his ornate ring flashing under the chandelier light—CLICK. "ALRIGHT THEN. BUT IT LOOKS LIKE YOU WON'T BE GETTING A SIGNATURE FROM SERENA ANYTIME SOON." He looked directly at the Man in the Suit, a challenge in his eyes. "WILL THAT BE A PROBLEM?"
"THAT IS FINE," the Man in the Suit dismissed, a hint of a cold smile playing on his lips. "I ONLY REQUESTED HER SIGNATURE TO ENLIGHTEN HER OF THIS MATTER." The meaning was clear: the signature was a courtesy, not a requirement. His plans would proceed regardless of Serena's approval.
Eiser leaned back, a small, knowing smirk touching his lips, satisfied by his subordinate's control.
The scene faded, transitioning to the Man in the Suit alone, reflecting. His thoughts were a quiet contrast to the tense confrontation. He considered the woman who had fought him so fiercely.
He saw the image of Serena in his mind, her face pale, her hair spread across the pillows.
"RATHER THAN GIVING UP AND WITHDRAWING HERSELF..." he thought, a sense of grim appreciation coloring his internal monologue.
He folded his arms across his chest, his expression hard yet reflective. "...I PREFER HER FIGHTING BACK AND LASHING OUT AT ME."
He looked up, meeting his own reflection in the distant glass, and spoke the final, unsettling truth aloud, acknowledging the fierce protectiveness that fueled her actions.
"I SUPPOSE... THAT IS HER WAY OF PROTECTING SERENITY."
"AFTER ALL, SHE WANTS TO PROTECT SERENITY FROM ME." The man knew his role: the inevitable villain in Serena's desperate attempt to preserve what little she had left.
Eiser sat back, a long cigar held loosely between her jeweled fingers. The tip glowed, emitting a faint CRACKLE before she drew on it, letting out a measured plume of smoke—PUFF. The blue curtain of the grand room provided a dramatic, formal backdrop.
She offered the cigar across the space between them. "WOULD YOU LIKE ONE, TOO?"
The Man in the Suit remained unmoving in his chair, his profile severe. "I'VE QUIT."
Eiser retracted her hand, a faint, dry smile touching her lips. "YOU MUST HAVE VERY STRONG DETERMINATION... IF YOU WERE ABLE TO QUIT THIS DEVILISH THING." She tapped the cigar lightly with a manicured finger, a small SNAP of sound. She looked at him with something akin to respect.
"SINCE YOU AND SERENA... WERE FORCED INTO THIS RELATIONSHIP, I DON'T EXPECT YOU TWO TO BE AFFECTIONATE WITH EACH OTHER... BUT... I HOPE YOU DON'T RESENT SERENA TOO MUCH."
The Man in the Suit said nothing, simply offering an opaque look. Eiser understood that relationships were complex, forged in fire and necessity, not affection. She felt compelled to offer him context—a glimpse into the source of her own hardened soul, the history that shaped the family's brutal survival instinct.
"MY FIRST LOVE WAS QUITE PAINFUL."
She sighed, the memory pulling her back decades. "IT TOOK ME A WHILE TO RECOVER FROM IT... SO I MARRIED LATE AFTER SPENDING MY YOUTH BURIED IN WORK."
The scene shifted in her mind's eye, a vibrant flashback: a younger Eiser (or perhaps a woman of similar appearance), beautiful and radiant in a red dress, standing beside a handsome, kind-faced man in a military uniform.
"THAT'S HOW I HAD SERENA'S MOTHER, BELLATIA... AND I HAD SUCH A HAPPY LIFE WITH MY HUSBAND AND BELLA." The vision showed her holding a swaddled infant (Bellatia), nestled securely against her husband. It was a fleeting image of domestic bliss, rich with color and light.
Then, the color leached away. The image turned to a grayscale memory, tinged with a devastating sadness.
"BUT I GUESS I WAS NEVER MEANT TO HAVE AN EASY LIFE, BECAUSE SOON THE BUDDEN WAR BEGAN, AND MY HUSBAND ENDED UP DYING IN BATTLE AT THE WARFRONT."
Her hand, younger and still wearing the wedding ring, was shown placing the ring inside a small, dark box, a somber gesture of finality.
"AS DEVASTATED AS I WAS, I WAS ALSO GROWING ANXIOUS. I WAS WORRIED THAT SOMETHING MIGHT HAPPEN TO ME AS WELL."
The stark black and white image returned: Eiser holding the infant Bellatia, tears tracing paths down her cheeks as she clutched the baby close. That fear—the fear of leaving her daughter unprotected—had been the furnace that forged her current ruthless strength. The world had taken her love; she would not let it take her daughter.
Eiser stared at the burning cigar, the glowing ash representing the long history of sacrifice and pain. Her expression was cold, determined. The Man in the Suit watched her, finally understanding the depth of the familial wounds that necessitated his presence and his methods. He recognized that Serena's fierce protection of Serenity was merely the latest iteration of this ancestral fear.
This history explains Eiser's protective, controlling nature and provides motivation for the severe measures taken against the Grayan family and Serena's marriage.
The man's strong hands framed I's face, pulling her out of the spiral of despair. Their recent, harsh kiss was a fresh ache on her lips, a desperate tactic to silence her mounting hysteria.
"...ENOUGH. NOTHING WILL HAPPEN," the Man in the Suit commanded, his voice a low, deep assurance. His eyes were focused on her, compelling her to stillness. "SO CALM DOWN. YOU'LL COLLAPSE AGAIN IF YOU GET AGITATED."
Tears pricked her eyes as she slumped against him, finding temporary refuge in his unsettling embrace. I clenched the fabric of his shirt—SQUEEZE—a raw, emotional anchor.
"...I FEEL LOST," I admitted, the words weak.
She pulled back to face him, the pain hardening into anger. "I CAN'T JUST LET THAT MAN STAY HERE, BUT EVERYONE'S ON HIS SIDE."
He gently urged patience. "TRY NOT TO RESENT SIR EISER TOO MUCH. WITHOUT HIS HELP, THE FAMILY AND THE HOTEL WOULD'VE BEEN IN A VERY BAD SITUATION."
"HIS HELP? I NEVER WANTED HIS HELP!" I cried, pushing him away. Her voice cracked with frustration as he stood, towering over her—LIFT. "GRANDMA WAS THE ONE THAT DECIDED EVERYTHING!"
He was unmoved, yet his gaze held a quiet, distant sadness. "I KNOW HE'S CAPABLE. AND I KNOW HE ACCOMPLISHED WHAT I COULDN'T." He stated the brutal, undeniable truth that haunted her. "THAT'S BECAUSE HE'S A MAN OF THE GRAYAN FAMILY."
"BUT AS CAPABLE AS HE IS, HE'S ALSO DANGEROUS." I spat out, the terror overcoming the fury. "ALSO BECAUSE HE'S A MAN OF THE GRAYAN FAMILY!"
A chilling thought took hold, illuminated by the cold, calculated look of the unseen Eiser: Right now, it looks like he's saved Serenity, but I'm sure he'll show his true colors soon.
I'm certain he's going to hand Serenity over to the Grayan family.
AND IF I GET IN THE WAY...
A primal fear struck her heart—THROB—leaving her breathless. ...HE'LL KILL ME.
The desperation reached a tragic peak. I'D RATHER HAVE SERENITY DIE NOBLY WITH ME... THAN LET IT FALL INTO THE HANDS OF THE GRAYAN FAMILY.
The life she was fighting for, the beloved house, felt irrevocably lost. Her hand dropped—PLOP. She crumpled to the floor, her purple dress a soft stain on the marble, letting out a long, defeated SIGH. GRASP. Her fingers convulsed, clutching the material. "MY BELOVED HOUSE…"
The darkness of her thoughts engulfed her. My Serenity is fading away…
An echoing decree sliced through the gloom, a cold decision from the realm of power: "VERY WELL. MAKE SURE YOU HANDLE THE MATTER OF THE EIGHT FAMILIES CAREFULLY."
The origins of this consuming fear lay in the Matriarch's choices, who was Eiser, the elder woman (Serena's grandmother).
I was growing old and I already had a medical condition at the time. I was worried about the young daughter I would leave behind if something were to happen to me… and I was afraid of losing the hotel that I had worked for my whole life. The Serenity Hotel stood as the golden monument to her anxiety.
The Matriarch had learned a painful lesson when she lost her husband and feared for her own life. To protect her legacy and her child, Bella (Serena's mother), she became relentless.
So I was harsh with Bella's upbringing ever since she was a young child. And because I was anxious, I trained her even harder.
Bella, however, chose a different path for her own child. Unlike me, Bella got married as soon as she inherited Serenity, and she gave birth to Harper and Serena at a young age.
The flashback showed Bella as a radiant, blonde woman, happily beside her husband and two infants. Back then, we didn't know they would leave us so early.
Bella, knowing the pain of a rigid childhood, had softened her approach. Bella didn't want Serena to start training from a young age like her. Since Serena had a young mother supporting her... Bella let Serena be a child... and a student... She wanted to let Serena act her age... and wanted to give her the freedom to follow her heart. She said she would teach Serena business when it was time.
But the cycle was inescapable. Just as Eiser's husband died, leaving her terrified, Bella and her husband also departed the world prematurely—a dark echo of fate. The image of a carriage tumbling down a dark slope flashed, the violence hidden but implied.
Now, Serena ) was left to inherit the same terrifying legacy of fear, repeating her grandmother's anxiety, only this time, her efforts were focused on protecting her Serenity, both the younger girl and the hotel, from the looming, dangerous presence of the Grayan family.
After the sudden, devastating accident claimed Serena's parents, the weight of the family's survival—both the house and the business, the Serenity Hotel—fell onto the shoulders of Eiser.
After this sudden tragedy... I barely had time to grieve my children because life was so busy.
Eiser was already an elderly owner and her health was poor. The family's assets, the Serenity business, were vulnerable. As time went by, Serenity was falling apart. Just think of all the people that wanted to take advantage of us. People were after this easy prey like a pack of piranhas.
Serena was barely 17 years old when she was left alone in the world after the accident. While her mother, Bella, had intended to shield Serena from the business world to let her be a child and a student, this freedom had left her tragically unprepared.
She wasn't a mere child... but it was near impossible for Serena... to suddenly manage this large Serenity, without any training.
Eiser immediately returned from retirement to manage the business and begin training Serena. She hired people to assist, but the burden was immense. But my health got worse, as I had to handle a heavy workload every day. I did hire people to assist us... Her persistent, dry COUGH echoed the strain.
The clock was ticking. The family business was hemorrhaging. Crucially, Serena couldn't even sign a simple contract because she was underage.
With no time left and her own life nearing its end, Eiser made the one choice she believed would guarantee the survival of the house and the legacy: she reached out to the Grayan family. The alliance required a bond, a sacrifice.
She arranged the marriage between Serena and the Man in the Suit, ensuring the powerful Grayan name would shield them from the piranhas.
This was the context of the confrontation between Serena and the Man in the Suit.
The Unwanted Savior
Serena's fear, raw and visceral, was born from this calculated decision.
"BUT AS CAPABLE AS HE IS, HE'S ALSO DANGEROUS. ALSO BECAUSE HE'S A MAN OF THE GRAYAN FAMILY!" she had cried, pushing away from his embrace.
I'm certain he's going to hand Serenity over to the Grayan family. And if I get in the way... he'll kill me.
Yet, the Man in the Suit saw a woman fighting a battle he respected. "I prefer her fighting back and lashing out at me... I suppose... that is her way of protecting Serenity. After all, she wants to protect Serenity from me."
He knew the price of his intervention: a forced relationship with a woman who resented him, but whom he understood was driven by a fierce, familial fear. He was the Grayan family's answer to the chaos, the reluctant savior who could break off the eight families' tradition and secure the family's future, even if it meant being the villain in Serena's eyes.
The stage was set for an inevitable conflict, rooted in one grandmother's desperate love and one girl's terrifying, sudden inheritance.
Serena lay prone in the vast, elegant bed, the weight of the family history—a legacy of sacrifice and loss—crushing her. Her hair, dark and spread across the pillow, contrasted sharply with the white linen. The emotional whirlwind had exhausted her; the knowledge of her grandmother's desperate maneuver only deepened her sorrow, not her gratitude.
The realization was agonizing: Her grandmother, Eiser, had ensured the survival of the house, but at the cost of Serena's freedom.
She felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness. It was a cold, suffocating awareness that the future was no longer hers to command. The path her mother, Bella, had carved for her—one of freedom and gentle growth—was violently erased.
I felt lost. I couldn't accept this reality... I couldn't let my fate be decided by others.
A raw, silent cry tore through her chest. AHH…
She shoved herself upright, the sheets twisting around her. Her face, usually so composed, was contorted by grief and rage. A deep, agonizing groan escaped her lips. GROAN…
The despair eventually burned away, leaving behind a hard, crystalline determination. If they had forced her into this game, she would play. But she would play by her own rules.
I will prove my capabilities and take back what is rightfully mine. I will not let them control me.
She raised a hand to her forehead, pushing back the strands of hair that clung to her damp skin. WIPE. The action was a silent vow, a wiping clean of her tears and her indecision. She would not be a passive pawn in Eiser's endgame or the Man in the Suit's cold strategy.
She slid her legs out of the bed, the expensive silk of her nightwear settling around her ankles. She walked toward the window, her silhouette framed by the harsh morning light.
She glanced down at her hands, the familiar wedding ring glinting darkly on her finger. But… my fate has already been decided.
A grim understanding settled over her as she looked up. In the reflection of the glass, the dark, severe form of the Man in the Suit stood behind her, a silent shadow—her jailer and her supposed protector. He was the tangible proof of her chains.
The contrast between her passionate defiance and his cool control was a stark, agonizing reality. Serena knew the battle was far from over. It had only just begun.
The focus has now returned to Serena's resolve and the persistent presence of the Man in the Suit.
Serena stood by the tall window, the morning sun an unforgiving spotlight on her forced reality. The wedding band, the symbol of her chains and her family's salvation, felt heavy and cold on her finger. But… my fate has already been decided.
She saw him in the reflection—the Man in the Suit—standing behind her, a towering, silent guardian. He represented everything she resented: the Grayan power, the erasure of her future, and the cold, transactional nature of her existence. He was waiting, watching.
I know you're the one trying to take Serenity from me. Her silent accusation was a scorching fire in her heart. I won't let you touch it.
In that moment, her fear transmuted into pure, unadulterated rebellion. She decided on her terms of engagement: absolute resistance.
Her eyes, blazing with defiance, met his in the glass reflection. It was a clear, unspoken challenge.
The Man in the Suit reacted instantly. He did not appreciate the silent rebellion, the way she was already formulating plans to undermine him. His control, however, was absolute.
He moved toward her swiftly, his presence commanding the space. He seized her wrist, his grip hard and non-negotiable, forcing her hand down from the window frame.
"DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT." His voice was a low, dangerous growl, confirming he had read every rebellious thought crossing her face.
Serena gasped, her eyes widening in a mixture of shock and renewed anger. His sudden proximity and harsh touch were suffocating.
The air thickened with unspoken violence.
She knew what "it" meant: Don't think about running. Don't think about divorce. Don't think about fighting me.
He stared down at the trembling fury in her eyes, his own gaze piercing and devoid of pity. He pressed his point further, pushing his face close to hers.
"YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW DANGEROUS THIS GAME IS."
His warning was not a threat to her well-being, but a cold reminder of the immense political forces she was attempting to defy. He wasn't merely threatening her life, he was warning her about the utter destruction of everything Eiser had sacrificed for—the fate of the entire house and her sister, Serenity.
He released her wrist just as abruptly as he had grabbed it, the skin stinging. The message was delivered, stark and complete. Serena was trapped, married to a man who saw her resistance as an intriguing, yet easily manageable, variable in a much larger, deadlier equation.
The Man in the Suit has drawn the line in the sand, directly challenging Serena's resolve.






chapter 4 end
Story Art Ina
Tip's
THE SERENITY FAMILY'S LINEAGE WAS PASSED DOWN FROM MOTHER TO DAUGHTER,