determined to uphold-an invisible line I refused to let anyone cross. I stood firm, my dark hair a stark, severing silhouette against the sickly, green-tinged light of the room. My palm still throbbed from the forceful YANK I'd made to free myself from the other woman's grasp.
"Will you quit that nonsense?" I snapped, my voice taut as a pulled string. I kept my arm close, as though her touch might still contaminate it. The air around us was thick-pressed down by tension, by dishonesty, by the bitter reek of betrayal that clung to the walls. My resolve hardened with every breath. "I'm on the verge of becoming truly angry."
The blonde woman-radiant in a superficial way, rotten beneath-didn't so much as flinch. Her smirk remained fixed, unsettlingly calm, a slash of false sweetness carved into her face. That expression alone confirmed everything I'd begun to suspect. I narrowed my eyes, any remnants of civility dissolving in the acidic truth of her intent.
"I take back what I said earlier about being entertained by your brazenness," I said, voice steady, clipped, cold. My anger was no longer a flicker-it had settled into something still but dangerous, like water gone black in winter. "Had you kept your promise, I would have been willing to accept the consequences, even though it would mean seeing the other copy of the painting destroyed. Because then the whole thing wouldn't have left such a bitter taste in my mouth."
I inhaled, slow and deliberate.
"But now that I know just how low the De Laurent Gallery is willing to sink, going forward, there will be no business dealings or exchanges of any kind between the Serenity and De Laurent families."
The blonde's shoulders drooped-barely. So slight that a less observant person would have missed it. But I didn't. The crack in her composure was small, but it was there.
"Feel free to indulge in whatever this 'something fun' is to your heart's content," I added, each word edged with frost. "But leave me out of it."
She let out a dramatic sigh, the kind manufactured for effect, not born from real disappointment. It fluttered into the air like an overacted line. "What a shame," she murmured. "Let me know if you ever change your mind."
I refused her the dignity of a response.
Instead, I turned my attention to the other woman-the one whose hand I had pulled away from. Her expression was far softer, touched by a weary resignation that made her seem smaller in the shadowy room. Her muted green eyes reflected the dim light like tarnished jade.
"It's not like things can get any worse for us, anyway," she said, attempting a wry smile that faltered halfway. "We've been in dire straits for quite a while. If a tiger insists on biting us, we have no choice but to let it."
I shook my head firmly, jaw set like stone. "Know that from this day on, I shall be completely uncaring of any potential loss or damages incurred by De Laurent due to my business."
The blonde woman made one final attempt-her last, pitiful grasp at moralizing her betrayal. Her voice dropped into a low, velvety murmur, seductive only in the way poison can be tempting.
"Most are unaware," she began. "Museums, galleries, opera houses... the arts business appears glamorous and impressive on the surface. But people have no idea that in-"
I cut her off-not with words, but with silence. I didn't need to hear the rest. Her justification was just that: a flimsy veil thrown over greed, opportunism, and the willingness to betray anyone she deemed convenient.
The break was final.
---
The blonde woman-Serena, I was now certain-continued her bitter monologue, the sound of her voice grating against the already-splintered remains of my trust. Every word she spoke felt like it was meant to reshape the narrative, paint herself as a victim rather than the architect of betrayal.
"Most are unaware," she drawled, her gaze drifting somewhere far beyond the confines of the room, as though she were reciting lines from a practiced lament. "Museums, galleries, opera houses... the arts business appears glamorous and impressive on the surface. But people have no idea that in reality, it's all nothing but debt... that we're like parasites who need to feed off wealthy, privileged families."
She paused and crossed her arms. The fabric of her coat released a soft, grating CREAK, a sound that somehow amplified the dissonance between her luxurious appearance and the self-pitying sermon she was trying to sell.
"But that's enough griping, I suppose."
Her tone was casual-almost bored-but I stood unmoved. I refused to let her attempt at reframing her treachery as desperation soften even a fraction of my resolve.
"It's not like things can get any worse for us, anyway," she went on, that same unsettling calm returning to her voice. "We've been in dire straits for quite a while. If a tiger insists on biting us, we have no choice but to let it."
The metaphor was as flimsy as her excuses. I didn't let her finish the thought in my mind before my response hardened itself-iron slicing through fog.
"Had you kept your promise," I said, voice sharp with unfiltered clarity, "I would have been willing to accept the consequences, even though it would mean seeing the other copy of the painting destroyed. Because then the whole thing wouldn't have left such a bitter taste in my mouth."
I leaned in just enough to make it unmistakably clear that every word was deliberate. "But now that I know just how low the De Laurent Gallery is willing to sink, going forward, there will be no business dealings or exchanges of any kind between the Serenity and De Laurent families. Know that from this day on, I shall be completely uncaring of any potential loss or damages incurred by De Laurent due to my business."
The tension that followed was suffocating-thick, unmoving, like wet wool draped over the air. For a moment, it seemed the room itself held its breath.
I had said all I needed. The matter should have been closed.
But Serena-never one to leave a wound untouched-shifted subtly in her chair. The movement was small, but its intention curled through the space like a blade seeking purchase.
Then she spoke, and the question she threw into the silence cut the room in half.
"When will you and Leinz be getting divorced?"
The words struck like a slap.
"What?" I exclaimed, my composure shattering cleanly. I snapped my head up so fast my vision rippled. "What did you just say?"
Serena's smile was a delicate, poisonous thing-an upturned curve of lips that suggested she was no longer simply playing a game. She was revealing that she'd been several moves ahead all along.
"Since you're such an honest person, Miss Serena," she said, her voice syrupy with false politeness, "I thought I'd take the opportunity to ask you directly."
My thoughts scrambled, collided-splintered.
How did she know?
She leaned forward, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper that felt like a cold fingertip tracing down my spine.
"I believe I mentioned in our previous conversation that I know you and Leinz's marriage was a contractual one... and given what I know about you, Miss Serena, I assumed you'd one day want to divorce him. I was wondering if you still felt that way."
The weight of her words hit me with the force of a physical blow-an impact so fierce it made the room tilt, the lights hum louder, my breath catch sharply in my chest.
My mind screamed the only question it could form, raw and panicked:
"WHAT? HOW DID SHE KNOW?"
The question hung in the air like a poisonous bloom, unfolding petal by venomous petal. My deepest secret-the one I had entombed so carefully-was suddenly laid bare under the sickly lights of the room.
My heart gave a frantic THUMP, THUMP, each beat a sharp echo of panic pounding through my ribs.
What?
How did she know?
The thought screamed through my mind, bright and blinding.
I forced myself to speak, molding the tremor of fear into a shape that resembled indignation. "I don't understand this woman... and what is it that you know about me?"
Serena-because there was no longer any doubt that was her name-gave a slow, serpentine smile. It was the kind of smile that suggested she wasn't simply enjoying the conversation-she was savoring my unraveling.
"While that indignant look on your face is rather adorable," she purred, her voice dripping with amusement, "you don't have to look at me like that."
She settled back comfortably, crossing one leg over the other with a kind of predatory ease, as though preparing to dissect a fragile creature pinned beneath her gaze.
"Hmm... leaving out the information I gleaned by meeting you in person..."
She let the words trail off, as if flipping through pages of my life with leisurely familiarity. Then she began recounting my past with unnerving precision-each detail a violation, each sentence a scalpel.
"As your family was on the verge of falling to ruin, thanks to your grandmother," she began, her tone almost lecturing, "you were forced into a marriage you did not want. And by the time you were old enough to get a divorce on your own without the consent of your guardian, your family business had not only recovered, it was entering an accelerated period of growth... and Eiser's position in the Serenity family had become so secure that you, poor little depressed girl, were relegated to becoming a shut-in."
Her words sliced through the room, through me, leaving sharp, invisible wounds.
She paused deliberately, letting the weight of my past drape over the silence like a shroud.
"I might have been out of the country for a long time," she continued, "but I still had eyes and ears in Meuracevia. To be even more frank, I was paying close attention to any news related to not only Eiser, but you, his wife."
A tremor shot through my hands, and I curled my fingers into fists to disguise it. The images of my own secret thoughts-ones I had never dared to voice aloud-flashed behind my eyes:
All I need to do is take it from him before he takes it from me.
I need to get ready, I need to stand on my own, while training for business.
After that... I'll get a divorce.
Serena wasn't finished. If anything, she was only growing more certain, more smug.
"I heard you and Eiser had a contentious relationship throughout your marriage," she said, her tone authoritative in the way only someone convinced they were correct could manage. "There must have been many things you two clashed on. So you likely intended to divorce him as soon as you were capable of standing on your own two feet without his help. Am I wrong? Especially given how headstrong you are."
Her words were like pins piercing the vulnerabilities I had spent years stitching shut. Every syllable hit the exact places I feared most-my autonomy, my future, my past decisions, my fears about Eiser.
Why?
Why was she so obsessed with my marriage?
The question burned like acid.
"I couldn't bear not to know," she confessed suddenly. Her voice softened, but the softness was worse-a dangerous, intimate shift. Her gaze darkened, sharpened, became something that felt far too personal. "You see, although he thinks I betrayed him, I never intended to end things with him."
A wave of cold dread washed over me. It sank into my lungs, my bones, my bloodstream.
This woman wasn't merely an art dealer.
She wasn't merely a manipulator.
She wasn't even merely a threat.
She was a predator-collecting information, weaving schemes, tracking every detail of my life and the life of the man I was trying so desperately to escape.
Her motive for bringing up the divorce was unmistakable.
Unmistakably tangled with Eiser.
The protagonist is now caught in the web of Serena's obsession with Eiser.
The sheer audacity of her knowledge-and the cruel precision with which she wielded it-made the blood drain from my face. A cold, stark realization clicked into place like the final piece of a trap snapping shut.
She wants to confirm whether or not I have feelings for Eiser.
Not a chance.
...Although even I wasn't entirely sure of the answer anymore.
I forced my expression into something approaching neutrality, but the bitterness of her betrayal lingered on my tongue like poison.
"It all makes sense now," I said with a sharp SCOFF, the sound slicing the air as the truth crystallized in my mind. "So that certainty is why you spoke to me so rudely on the night of the Serenity Hotel's anniversary party. You thought we'd be divorcing."
Serena only tilted her head, the movement smooth-almost feline. Her predatory smile unfurled wider across her lips.
"If divorce is what you both want," she said lightly, as if discussing a business merger rather than gutting my personal life, "there is no need for us to become enemies. You're more than capable of running the hotel on your own now. If divorce is still your objective... I can help you expedite the process. Well? How about it?"
Her casual tone was nauseating, a mockery wrapped in silk.
It confirmed everything.
Right now, Diah is pretending to sympathize with me, but she has ulterior motives.
She must know there is no chance I'd accept that ridiculous proposal of hers.
What she wants is to see my reaction.
My reaction will serve as the answer to her question.
Divorce.
The word had once been my lifeline.
My only hope.
My only way out.
"Divorce?" I murmured, tasting the word again-truly tasting it.
It didn't strike me the same way it once had.
It didn't echo the same desperate plea of the girl I used to be.
"Of course I wanted it then," I said quietly. "Earnestly, desperately."
But the present me... the person who had clawed her way out of hopelessness... who had learned the weight and cost of every choice...
She was someone else entirely.
I lifted my gaze, meeting Serena's with a dangerous clarity-one that brooked no manipulation, no false sympathy, no covert probing on Eiser's behalf.
I would not allow this woman to use my pain as a bridge to him.
The answer Serena sought was already there in my eyes-unwavering, absolute.
I rose smoothly from my seat, my resolve tightening around me like the velvet rope I'd guarded so fiercely.
"I take back what I said earlier about being entertained by your brazenness," I said, my voice carved clean of all emotion. "Feel free to indulge in whatever this 'something fun' is to your heart's content, but leave me out of it."
She sighed dramatically, the sound fluttering into the air like a disappointed actress missing her cue. "What a shame. Let me know if you ever change your mind."
I didn't look at her again.
Instead, my gaze shifted to the other woman-the one who had been watching the exchange with weary resignation. She had been offered up as a pawn, shoved forward to defend the gallery's actions. A victim of Serena's strategy, but still part of the cruelty.
"It's not like things can get any worse for us, anyway," she murmured, her muted green eyes dim with defeat. "We've been in dire straits for quite a while. If a tiger insists on biting us, we have no choice but to let it."
Her attempt at humor fell flat, swallowed by the heaviness in the room.
I ignored the plea beneath it.
My final words were for both of them-a clean severing, a blade slicing through the last tether.
"Had you kept your promise," I said, tone unflinching, "I would have been willing to accept the consequences, even though it would mean seeing the other copy of the painting destroyed. Because then the whole thing wouldn't have left such a bitter taste in my mouth. But now that I know just how low the De Laurent Gallery is willing to sink, going forward, there will be no business dealings or exchanges of any kind between the Serenity and De Laurent families. Know that from this day on, I shall be completely uncaring of any potential loss or damages incurred by De Laurent due to my business."
The exchange was over.
The game was mine to play now, and I would play it alone.
My final declaration of war against the De Laurent Gallery was met with nothing more than Serena's casual shrug and the other woman's weary resignation. No arguments. No pleas. No desperate attempts at salvaging the relationship.
Just... acceptance.
And that, more than anything, confirmed that my words had landed exactly where they were meant to.
With a sense of finality that felt like a wire snapping in two, I pushed myself up from the chair, the room's dim, sickly green light casting harsh shadows across the floor.
"I shall be going then," I said, my tone crisp and clean, leaving no room for misunderstanding. "I see no point in carrying on this conversation any longer."
I began to rise, slow and deliberate, my posture straight, my resolve ironclad.
But there was one last-absolutely essential-piece of venom I needed to deliver. A final blow meant not to wound, but to warn.
I turned my head slightly, just enough to let Serena see the sharpness in my gaze.
"And a word of warning," I said, voice smooth as cold steel. "Stop fixating on me and Eiser so much. For one thing, there isn't anything between you and him anymore. And if you show me any more disrespect, I won't hesitate to-"
BANG!
The sound cracked through the room like lightning.
My body reacted before my mind could process anything-I gave a sharp, involuntary FLINCH.
What was that?
A door slamming?
A gunshot?
The echo reverberated through the space, rattling my nerves.
My gaze shot toward the entrance.
And then-
A scent hit me first.
Strong. Familiar.
Sandalwood.
Expensive leather.
Warm and crisp and unmistakably him.
"THIS SCENT..."
My heart lurched into my throat.
Standing in the doorway, backlit by the sudden shift in lighting, was a tall, broad-shouldered figure clad in an immaculate dark suit.
His presence filled the room instantly, swallowing every other breath of air.
His striking blue eyes swept over the scene with glacial fury-burning, assessing, condemning.
The atmosphere turned lethal.
"EISER?!"
My voice cracked around his name.
Shock pulsed through me, but it was immediately swallowed by a wave of cold dread.
I knew that posture.
I knew that rigid jaw, that storm-black aura, that tightly coiled restraint in his shoulders.
And I definitely knew the low, controlled rumble that came out of him when he spoke.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice pitched low enough to vibrate in the bones.
That growly voice...
The one he used only when he was furious.
The one that promised consequences.
My stomach dropped.
I felt my expression shift-becoming anxious, defensive, bracing.
Every instinct screamed that I was about to be thoroughly, brutally berated.
"How did you know I was-?" I started, desperate for clarity, for an explanation, for anything-
He didn't let me finish.
"COME HERE."
The command cracked through the air, firm, thunderous, absolute.
Before the meaning even registered, he was already moving.
A strong hand shot out, fingers wrapping tight around my wrist.
Not asking.
Not pausing.
Just grabbing.
Then-
A single sharp YANK.
I stumbled forward, dragged out of the room's dim glow, pulled away from the two women and directly into the gravitational pull of his fury.
The last thing I saw before the doorframe swallowed my vision was Serena's face-her lips curling into a smug, triumphant SMIRK.
She had gotten exactly the reaction she wanted...
And she was positively delighted.
The sudden, sharp tug on my arm tore a startled breath from my chest.
"Ah-!" I gasped, stumbling half a step as I was yanked out of the tense space I'd been cornered in. My head snapped upward, and there he was-Leinz-towering over me with that cold, suffocating fury simmering just beneath the surface of his impossibly calm expression.
His grip on me wasn't painful, but it was absolute, the kind of hold that left no room for negotiation. It was as if the moment his fingers closed around my wrist, every illusion of control I'd had over the situation crumbled instantly.
A few paces away, Diah's face transformed-her smugness evaporating into a stunned, rigid mask as her gaze locked onto Leinz.
"Diah," he began, his voice dangerously quiet-too quiet. That metallic timbre in it made every hair on my arms stand on end. "What have you done to I?"
Diah blinked, thrown off balance. "What do you mean, what have I done?" she protested, lifting her chin but unable to meet his full stare. "We just happened to run into each other and were having a little conversation. I didn't do anything to her."
A faint, muttered admission slipped out from under her breath, "(Well... I was about to, but stopped.)"
But Leinz wasn't interested in her excuses.
The room felt colder as he directed his full gaze at her-icy, unblinking, a quiet judgment that could crush someone far stronger than Diah.
"You acted like you loved me desperately," he said, voice tightening, "yet you failed to even keep the one promise you made to me. Although there isn't anything you could do to disappoint me or sicken me any more than you already have-seeing as you've always done as you pleased-I hoped you'd at least lead a calm, peaceful life."
His words sliced through the air like fine-edged glass.
Diah's expression twisted, a flicker of pain-then resentment-flashing across her face. I caught her breath hitch, but she said nothing.
Leinz's mouth tightened, and he delivered the next blow with solemn finality.
"But given the fact that you haven't changed a bit, I suppose this world is where you belong... and there's no hope of you ever rising above this filth."
"SCOFF."
The sound barely escaped her as her eyes widened. "What...?"
He leaned just a fraction closer-not enough to touch her, but enough for the air to thicken with threat.
"It's no longer my concern how you choose to live your life," he said softly, which somehow made it even more terrifying, "but don't you dare lay a finger on I. Don't entertain the notion of bringing her into your world... or meeting her, even."
His grip on my wrist tightened protectively.
"If you do," he added, eyes narrowing to lethal slits, "you and I too will become enemies. Behave yourself-unless you want me to treat you exactly like Victor. Do you understand me?"
"Wh-WHAT?"
Her voice cracked, trembling with disbelief.
Then it erupted out of her-raw and broken.
"LEINZ! HOW COULD YOU SAY SOMETHING SO CRUEL-?!"
But his expression didn't shift. He didn't flinch. He didn't soften.
"Turn," he ordered flatly.
Before I could react, he guided me away-no, pulled me-his hand firm, unyielding, as though he was determined to remove me from the very air she breathed.
"Let's get out of here," he murmured, already moving.
The sharp echo of our footsteps bounced through the hallway, but underneath it, another sound rose-a heavy, rhythmic thudding.
THUMP...
A desperate, spiraling rhythm.
NO...! LAST TIME... THUMP... THUMP-
I dared a glance over my shoulder.
Diah stood frozen, her body trembling, her eyes enormous with an emotion I couldn't decipher-something between terror, obsession, and the agony of being shoved into a memory she had long tried to bury.
As Leinz steered me farther away, her figure blurred behind us, collapsing inwards against the weight of her past.
My heart hammered wildly against my ribs.
I had just witnessed something raw-violent, not in action but in truth. A severing of ties so brutal it felt like the air itself had been carved open.
And I, caught in the center of it, could only follow as he led me away.
The only sound was the hollow, rhythmic THUMP of our footsteps echoing through the vast, deserted hallway as Leinz pulled me along. His grip on my hand was firm-too firm-like he feared I might vanish if he loosened it even slightly.
We left Diah behind in the dim corridor, swallowed by the shadows. But just before the darkness fully claimed her, I caught a flash of movement-her hand lifting, reaching out with a trembling desperation.
Not for me.
For him.
...IT'S MY HAND YOU GRABBED!
The realization hit me so hard I almost staggered.
That moment-her expression-that raw, devastated look as she stared at Leinz's back...
IT REASSURED ME THAT YOU STILL FELT SOMETHING FOR ME... WAS I WRONG?
Her voice echoed in my mind, real or imagined, I couldn't tell. But the pain in it was unmistakable.
She hadn't been devastated because of me.
She had been devastated because he had chosen to grab my hand instead of hers.
A strange, unwelcome anxiety twisted through my chest. I didn't want to care. I didn't want to feel anything about whatever history they had. But seeing that expression-seeing her crushed under the weight of her own hope-it did something to me. Something uncomfortable.
I shivered.
And then there was the threat he'd made-about Victor. The terrifying certainty in his tone.
A cold chill crawled up my spine.
We rushed deeper into the building, passing into a stark, barely-lit area that felt more like the forgotten stairwell of an old office complex than anything resembling safety. The walls were stained with shadows, and the flickering fluorescent light made everything appear colder, sharper, harsher.
Leinz's hand still held mine, strong and insistent.
Too close.
Too firm.
Too... something.
My breath caught as he suddenly stopped on the landing. His pivot was abrupt, pulling me around so I faced him under the harsh, sterile lighting.
His fingers loosened slightly, but the intensity in his eyes only sharpened.
"WHY ON EARTH DID YOU COME TO A PLACE LIKE THIS?"
His voice cracked through the silence like a whip, making me flinch.
"AND WHAT WERE YOU MEETING DIAH FOR?!"
It felt like being interrogated-cornered.
Heat rose in my chest, or maybe it was shame, or guilt... or the simple shock of being yelled at like this.
I pulled my hand back immediately, my movements small but defensive, as if reclaiming even that tiny freedom could steady my trembling emotions.
"I came here because I was told this was the office of the broker-" I began automatically... then cut myself off with a sudden jolt of indignation.
Why am I explaining myself?
Why do I feel like I owe him anything?
I straightened, bristling. "Because I had something personal to take care of! And I just happened to run into that woman by chance!"
Leinz took one slow, deliberate step closer, his expression twisting with a darker, deeper frustration.
"Places like this might seem fine and aboveboard during the day," he said, voice low with simmering anger, "but they turn into unholy dens of iniquity once the sun sets! Coming here all by yourself... what were you thinking? What if something were to happen to you again?!"
The words slammed into me.
Again.
He meant the incident from before.
The one I had tried so hard not to think about.
"I didn't know!" I shot back, voice rising despite the fear curling in my stomach. "I had no idea what kind of place this was! Sui said when she came here, it was nothing but an ordinary-looking office."
He exhaled sharply, glancing around the stairwell as though reconsidering everything. "This place changes at night?" His jaw tightened. "Oh, I see. No wonder..."
For a brief moment, his anger dampened, replaced by something like understanding.
But that tiny flicker of relief inside me was immediately buried under another feeling-something hot and suffocating.
Because now the only thing left was the weight of his overbearing concern.
The way he spoke.
The way he demanded answers.
The way he acted as though he had every right to dictate what I did, where I went, whom I met.
He still hadn't answered why he was here.
He still hadn't explained what he was doing.
He only ever demanded explanations from me.
Leinz's intensity pressed against me like a wall, and something inside me finally snapped.
I couldn't stand his tone-so sharp, so authoritative, so utterly certain he had the right to scold me.
"WHAT ARE YOU YELLING AT ME FOR?!"
My voice ricocheted violently off the concrete walls, filling the narrow stairwell with heat and fury. "The fault lies with this office, not me! While you might be blissfully unaware of it all, this seedy underworld does and will continue to coexist with you!"
The words were daggers aimed at his pride.
He didn't flinch.
He didn't shout back.
He just looked at me.
His expression shifted, softening-but not losing the weight of its severity. It was infuriating, how he could look both gentler and more dangerous in the same breath.
Then his gaze sharpened again, returning to the heart of the issue-the danger I had stumbled into without even knowing.
"And why bother having bodyguards if you aren't going to make use of them?" His voice was calmer, but colder. "If you're visiting an unfamiliar place, at least have them stand guard outside the door in case of an emergency. Do I really need to explain something that basic to you?"
My mouth opened-but no sound came out.
I hadn't even thought of it.
The heaviness of that fact crashed down on me.
All those layers of protection around me lately... I had treated them like chains, not shields. I'd wanted one moment alone, one moment of choice-and that decision had almost led me straight into a nightmare.
I stood frozen, cheeks warming with humiliation. "..."
He exhaled, slow and controlled, then spoke with the tone of someone who had seen far too much of the world's ugliness.
"The scent pervading that place, and the bitter odors that were especially strong in the room you were in... those are no ordinary scents."
I stiffened.
"They're dangerous," he continued. "Those substances aren't simply used for pleasure, but also for other impure purposes. To induce delirium in someone in order to pry secrets out of them... or to get them addicted and ruin their life."
A crawling cold slid down my spine.
The memory of that room-the strange bitter smell, the sickly sweet undertone-suddenly became a chilling revelation.
I could have been drugged.
Used.
Destroyed.
The casual ease of my conversation with Diah, the false sense of safety... all of it had been a razor's edge away from total disaster.
"Now do you realize just how much danger you were in?" Leinz asked.
His voice was still firm, but layered now with unmistakable worry.
I couldn't meet his eyes.
My lips trembled before I pressed them shut.
A shaky breath slipped out of me.
My rebellion, my pride, my attempt at independence-it had been based on nothing but ignorance.
He noticed the shift immediately. The way my shoulders sank. The way my defiance melted into something fragile and unsteady. The way I suddenly felt... small.
He stepped closer, his voice losing its sharpness, becoming something quieter... but heavier.
"I can't follow you around all the time to protect you," he said. "Or teach you every single thing that poses a danger in this world."
His words were simple.
But they hit like a hammer.
"You need to be responsible for keeping yourself safe."
A heavy silence pressed between us.
"So..."
That single word dropped into my chest like a stone.
FLINCH.
He's right.
He's right and yet... hearing him say that makes me feel utterly alone.
The brutal truth settled over me like cold ash:
I wasn't just navigating a new society.
I was navigating a battlefield dressed like a ballroom.
I wasn't the old me anymore-the girl who could afford naivety, who assumed goodwill, who lived behind the illusion of safety.
Here, in this world, I was a target.
A commodity.
A vulnerability people would exploit without hesitation.
And while Leinz had been the only anchor I had... he was telling me, plainly, that he couldn't be there forever.
He was demanding that I learn to survive alone.
My head spun, my thoughts collapsing in tangled, frantic spirals between shock at the danger I had been in and the cold, merciless truth of his words. His presence, once a shield, suddenly felt like a reminder of how easily it could disappear.
Leinz's gaze lingered on me, a flicker of confusion breaking through his stern composure.
"Why is she suddenly looking so dejected?" he seemed to be thinking. "It isn't like her."
He didn't understand.
His warnings-necessary as they were-had just shattered the last fragile illusion I'd been clinging to.
The illusion that I could walk through this society without fear.
That I wasn't adrift.
That he, even if just indirectly, would always steady me.
Now, standing in this cold stairwell, I realized the terrifying truth:
I was alone.
And I had to learn to live with that.
Leinz watched my silence for a long, tense moment, the dim hallway light casting sharper lines across his face. To him, my lack of response must have looked like wounded pride-weakness. Something I imagined he despised more than incompetence. His gaze flicked away, jaw tightening as if he had run out of patience with me, or perhaps with himself.
He exhaled once, slow and firm, then offered his final piece of advice, his voice low but edged like a blade.
"...Keep your wits about you at all times."
The weight of the warning lingered in the air long after he turned away.
TURN.
STRIDE. STRIDE.
His footsteps receded with a steady, disciplined rhythm, each step an unspoken command for me to pull myself together. The moment his back disappeared around the curve of the stairwell, the breath I'd been holding burst out of me in a furious huff.
"FINE! YEAH, YEAH, YOU'RE RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING," I muttered under my breath, heat flooding my face. "I GET IT, BUT IT FEELS LIKE I RECEIVED A VERBAL THRASHING, WHICH IS VERY UPSETTING!"
Not truly dejected-no, I wasn't collapsing in humiliation or self-pity. I just hated that he had read me so clearly, so effortlessly. He was right, and I knew he was right, which only made my chest burn hotter. My pride was bruised, not broken.
I straightened, inhaling deeply, only to notice movement in the corner.
Raul.
My poor, timid assistant looked like he wished he could melt into the wall panels. His wiry frame was folded in on itself, eyes wide behind crooked glasses. He must have witnessed the entire clash-my arguing, Leinz's cold rebuttals-everything.
I pinched the bridge of my nose in exasperation. "Did something happen with Eiser today? And he seems more on edge than usual... is it because of Diah?"
The name alone made Raul flinch. His breath caught-
GASP.
Oh, wonderful. So there was something.
I narrowed my eyes. "Raul, you better not lie to me. What was Eiser up to earlier today?"
He looked cornered, his mouth opening and closing like a fish thrown onto a pier.
"STUTTER. AH... WELL, YOU SEE... UH..." he sputtered, clearly scrambling for an excuse, any excuse, while acutely aware that Eiser had refused to give me an answer earlier. Poor Raul was stuck between two predators-one sharp and irritable, the other deadly.
"WHAT? DID SOMETHING REALLY HAPPEN?" I pressed, my impatience sharpening. If Raul was panicking this much, Leinz must have been involved in something more complicated than "running into me."
He swallowed. Hard. His lips parted-
-but the air around us suddenly shifted.
A presence.
A shadow moved in the stairwell below.
Before Raul could produce even a half-hearted lie, Leinz reappeared-this time ascending the stairs, not leaving them. His movements were deliberate, purposeful, almost too smooth.
THUNK.
HUFF.
We were no longer in the stark stairwell; we had reached the more ornate upper landing. Soft golden light spilled across polished wood paneling and gilded frames, warming the air in contrast to the cold tension flooding my veins.
He didn't speak.
He didn't slow.
He didn't give me a second to breathe.
In an instant, he was in front of me-closer than he had ever been. His hand shot out, gripping my wrist, guiding my back against the carved doorframe with a force that wasn't violent but undeniably possessive. The door rattled behind me at the impact.
My breath caught. My heart lurched, pounding sharply against my ribs.
His eyes-dark, storm-colored-searched mine for only a heartbeat. Then-
In one swift, decisive movement, his hands framed my face, tilting it upward.
And his mouth crashed into mine.
The kiss was immediate, urgent, and completely consuming. It stole my breath before I could even gasp. His other hand slid behind my head, fingers threading through my hair, drawing me deeper, closer, until the rest of the world blurred out.
The tension of the night-the danger, the warnings, the arguments-ignited between us, sparking into something fierce and overwhelming. All the heat, frustration, and unspoken desire coiled tight within me finally snapped.
My thoughts scattered.
The fear.
The anger.
The reprimands.
The bruised pride.
Everything vanished beneath the sheer force of the kiss.
It took everything from me-every stray thought, every lingering doubt.
The kiss stole my breath and wiped every stray thought of danger or verbal thrashing from my mind.
There were no words. No apology, no explanation, no chance to revisit the argument that had torn at us hours ago. Everything we'd left unresolved-every unspoken fear, every flicker of anger-collapsed into the space between us.
He closed it in an instant.
His arms wrapped around me with a force that was not rough but desperate. I felt his breath shudder against my temple. The sheer fabric of my dress brushed over the roses inked along his skin-those familiar tattoos now visible beneath the light as his hands gripped my back, pulling me impossibly closer.
The world outside disappeared.
Dia's troubles faded.
My bruised pride dissolved.
All that remained was him.
I tilted my head back, and our lips met.
A deep, consuming kiss-urgent, grounding, overwhelming.
Not born of passion alone, but of fear, relief, longing-everything we'd been denying ourselves since the moment the day began.
It anchored us.
It scattered us.
It held us together.
And in that moment, nothing else mattered.