The clock had long struck midnight, and the sudden, brisk rap on the door was an unwelcome shock. I rose from my chair, adjusting the soft folds of my silk gown, and regarded the intrusion with cool patience. The storm outside had begun with a subtle whisper, and now its voice had grown, tapping violently against the glass panes, as if to warn me of the turmoil about to enter.
"Good evening, Ms. Serena. It's been a while, hasn't it?"
The woman on my doorstep was every bit as striking as I remembered. Her dark hair was pulled back in a severe, elegant bun, highlighting the sharp planes of her face, and her eyes were piercing, measuring, calculating. She wore a beautifully embroidered jacket that seemed to glow in the dim light, a stark contrast to the gloom of the night. I did not invite her in.
"What brings you here? And I must say, it's rather discourteous of you to show up unannounced at such a late hour," I replied, my voice even, masking the ripple of irritation beneath.
A faint, cutting smile played on her lips. "I showed up unannounced because I had a very good reason to. Also..." She paused, her gaze sweeping across the room with the precision of a predator. "Discourtesy? That's rich coming from you."
Her words landed like a well-aimed dagger, but I did not flinch. A moment of silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken history. I could almost hear the thoughts she tried to hide, but could not: Kitty's got her hackles up. HAHA…
"HAHA... All right, all right. Come sit," she finally relented, though the tension in her body did not ease.
I gestured toward the ornate table. Beyond the large glass windows, the rain had intensified, slashing against the panes with a furious rhythm, echoing the unease coiling inside me.
"It's a bit chilly, with the sudden rainfall," I remarked lightly, attempting civility, though my heart thrummed with anticipation of the confrontation to come.
We both took our seats at the small, marble-topped table. I caught my reflection in the darkened glass behind her: a woman of pale composure, draped in luxury, yet sharpened by suspicion.
"I suppose it'd be nice to chat a bit. I was probably going to stay up late anyhow." I exhaled softly, the tension in my shoulders refusing to ease. "I'm sorry I don't have anything to offer you. I'd like to serve you a warm cup of tea, at least..."
Her gaze, unyielding, cut through my attempt at courtesy. "...but if I do, I feel like it'll end up being thrown in my face."
The pretense ended there. The chill in the room had nothing to do with the rain. My voice, lowered deliberately, took on a dangerous edge.
"You're the one who sent Frederick to me to find the Serenity Family secret and steal sensitive information... Aren't you?"
The silence that followed my accusation was damning. She met my gaze with an unsettling serenity that confirmed my darkest suspicions.
"Yes, that's correct," she said smoothly. "I did it."
The admission hung in the air, heavy and poisonous. The woman who had lectured me on discourtesy was the very architect of an act of espionage against my family.
"Why'd you do it? I'd love to hear the reason behind such a shameless act," I demanded, the calm in my tone masking the fury clawing at my composure.
She leaned forward slightly, her eyes glinting with something I could not immediately define—was it a flicker of regret, or an unsettling form of admiration?
"I envied you. Because we're a lot alike."
My eyebrows shot up. The audacity of the claim made my mind stutter. My fist tightened imperceptibly on the fabric of my gown. "Alike? You and me?"
Ignoring my incredulity, she continued, the rain outside a relentless percussion to her confession.
"He wanted to destroy his family. I wanted to save mine."
Her words conjured a ghostly vision overlaid on the present: a younger woman, her past self, sitting beside a dark-haired man whose face bore the weariness of hard decisions and smoke-stained nights.
"A contractual engagement with those goals in mind. That's how his and my relationship began, too."
She drew in a slow, deep breath, memories pressing against her, shaping her present. "But during the engagement period, I grew to genuinely care for him. So much so that I started to forget the purpose of our engagement."
The vision shifted again, showing them standing together, overlooking a city bathed in the amber light of sunset, the estate sprawling beneath them. The man's voice cut through the memory, resolute, harsh.
"Forget about my tiresome, debt-ridden family, free myself of the looming specter that is my father, and leave for a faraway country."
He turned from the view, determination hardening his profile. "I have no intention of stopping, even if my father changes his mind partway through and I fail to become the successor."
The warm, fleeting sunset contrasted chillingly with the cold strategy in her own past.
"Come to think of it, it wouldn't be such a bad idea to start a new life with you," she remembered thinking, the ghost of desire lingering. "I'm not suggesting we change our plans. I'm just saying that I don't care what happens either way. I think if I have you, I'd be all right with giving everything else up."
The vision faded, leaving me staring at the woman across the table. Her confession was a tapestry of ambition, betrayal, and twisted affection, each thread intertwining past and present.
"So, your true motive was to secure a future for yourself and this man, using my family's secrets as the currency?" I concluded, the pieces of the puzzle clicking into a cold, hard image.
---
The woman's voice faded, leaving behind a residue of confession and regret. I remained motionless, staring at her as the room seemed to shrink around us. My mind traced the contours of her story, each memory, each flicker of emotion painting a portrait of a woman whose affection and ambition had collided in the most dangerous of ways. Her past self clung to an impossible ideal: a life where love and scheming could exist side by side, unscarred by betrayal or consequence.
The scene in my mind shifted back to the sunset memory, that private, fragile moment she had shared with her lover, a fleeting sanctuary from the harsh rules of power and legacy.
"I'm not suggesting we change our plans. I'm just saying that I don't care what happens either way," the younger version of my opponent had confessed to him, her voice trembling with sincerity. "I think if I have you, I'd be all right with giving everything else up."
Her eyes, bathed in the warm amber light of the setting sun, radiated a devotion so genuine it was almost painful to witness. There was no calculation, no pretense—just the raw vulnerability of someone torn between desire and duty.
"Even if… our plans to become the successor of our respective houses fail, let's stay together."
She raised the cigarette to her lips, a delicate, fleeting smile gracing her features—a rare, unguarded moment of softness that contrasted sharply with the ruthlessness she now wore like armor.
"I care for you, Linz. I truly do."
"And I promise that no matter what happens, I'll stay by your side," he had replied, his voice low but resolute, tinged with a sense of responsibility that seemed to weigh heavier than any emotion.
The vision lingered, showing Linz standing silently, cigarette in hand, the amber glow of the sun reflecting off the clouds above. Finally, he spoke, his words carrying the cold gravity of ambition.
"There's no need to give anything up. I'll keep my promise to save the House of De Laurent."
He continued, practical, unflinching: "However, if there ever is a setback, don't lose faith in me and be patient."
She had frowned slightly, confusion and disbelief flickering across her delicate features. "Setback? What, are you no longer interested in marrying me? Then nothing will change."
"That's not what I mean," he said firmly, his gaze unwavering. "The fastest and surest way to achieve my objective is by marrying you and following the necessary steps to become the successor, but there are always variables and unforeseen circumstances."
He raised a finger, emphasizing the fragility of their arrangement. "For instance, if I were to abandon my family… or you were to change your mind."
She met his gaze evenly, a promise etched into her expression. "I won't change my mind."
Linz turned his eyes skyward, the clouds above dark and roiling, carrying the weight of unspoken challenges. "But all right. I promise."
The vision shattered like glass, leaving me once more in the dimly lit, rain-swept parlor. The woman before me, the one who had just confessed to attempting to steal from my family, seemed smaller, somehow diminished in the presence of her own failings.
"And yet," I said, leaning back in my chair, allowing a thin, chilling smile to form on my lips, "the reality is that you are sitting in my house tonight, exposed and guilty for the audacity of your actions. It seems not long after that beautiful promise, your confidence began to falter."
The parlor darkened around us, the shadows stretching and curling like silent witnesses to her unraveling.
However, not long after that, when I heard the news that he'd left the House of Grayan… I became anxious and overwhelmed by various concerns.
"He left the House of Grayan, didn't he?" I murmured, my voice low and precise, every word carefully measured. "Which means he abandoned the succession plan, rendering your entire 'marriage to a successor' strategy meaningless. So, you panicked."
I let the accusation linger, letting the weight of understanding settle between us. "You decided to sacrifice me—the easiest target at hand—to salvage the money and power you so desperately needed."
The truth of her desperation was laid bare, the audacity of her visit tonight crystallizing into something almost tangible. She hadn't come merely to confess. She had come because her world was collapsing, and now, in her panic, she saw me as both the cause and the final lifeline of her failing ambitions.
Absolutely! Here's a fully expanded version of your passage, keeping it in Ms. Serena's first-person perspective, amplifying the tension, atmosphere, and inner reflections, while remaining faithful to your original narrative:
"He left the House of Grayan, didn't he?" I repeated, my eyes narrowing as I studied the woman across the table. I searched for any flicker of genuine remorse, but found only the hard sheen of fear and self-justification. "Your entire 'marriage to a successor' strategy—ruined. So you panicked. You decided to sacrifice me to salvage your own house."
A darkness seemed to settle over her, an oppressive shadow that drew her gaze inward. She was caught between memory and reality, the ghost of her growing desperation laid bare.
However, not long after that, when I heard the news that he'd left the House of Grayan…
A crimson shadow fell across the ornate walls of the parlor, as if the room itself were reflecting the internal fear that clawed at her.
I became anxious and overwhelmed by various concerns.
Her lips parted slightly, and I could almost hear her thoughts. "If I defy my family, my father might actually kill me."
She remembered the stakes—the financial risks, the social prestige, the personal ambitions she had poured her life into.
"The opera and theater business project, which I worked so hard on, will go up in smoke. Worst of all, I'll have to give up all the artwork I've been collecting. Would I not regret it? Could I really throw away my family, my reputation, and my collection without hesitation?"
I could see it all—the sickly green light of anxiety reflected in her eyes as she paced, cigarette in hand, a symbol of her inner torment.
"I promised to be patient and wait for him even if things went awry… But I inquired after him and he's apparently holed up someplace, practically comatose… Is it really all right to just sit on my hands like this?"
The pressure of her family's expectations pressed down on her like a physical weight. Ghostly echoes of Victor and her father seemed to haunt the edges of her memory.
"Meanwhile, Victor and my father are constantly pressuring me about marriage… What am I supposed to do?"
Her thoughts turned briefly to the man she loved, the one she could not reach.
"I considered going to see him, but in the end, I didn't, with the excuse that my mere presence would be a burden to him."
The memory twisted inward, the loneliness of her longing gnawing at her.
"In truth, I didn't have the courage to face him. I was sure he'd figure me out. I was afraid he'd realize that ultimately, I couldn't trust him."
And then, the cruelest blow of all came from her family—a final, unyielding ultimatum.
"If your marriage to Victor also falls through, you will lose the De Laurent name. You won't be able to keep a single painting."
The memory faded, snapping her back to the present. Her face was grim with self-reproach, haunted by the choices she had made.
AND IT DIDN'T TAKE LONG AFTER THAT FOR ME TO BREAK MY PROMISE TO HIM.
She finally looked up at me, her dark eyes reflecting both fear and defiance.
"Yes," she admitted, her voice low, tight, almost strangled with emotion. "The plan failed. I was terrified. I couldn't throw away my entire life for a man who might never recover, who had already abandoned his house and ambition. The House of De Laurent depends on me."
I exhaled slowly, anger giving way to a cold, profound disappointment.
"And so," I said, letting the words drip with icy precision, "you decided to destroy the House of Serenity instead, hoping its secrets would be valuable enough to bail you out of your debts and secure your marriage to Victor. A desperate act to save your paintings."
I leaned forward slightly, resting my hands on the table. My voice sharpened, cutting through the tension like glass.
"I suppose that's the difference between you and me. I don't abandon my family. I protect what is mine."
The woman, my opponent, lowered her gaze, shadows of her memories and choices enveloping her like a shroud.
The scene shifted in my mind again, returning to Victor, the second man in her life, the one who offered stability and power where Linz had offered only love.
Victor stood tall under the night sky, commanding the space around him.
"See? You were always going to end up marrying me," he said, his voice sharp and confident.
"I'd like to have the wedding before winter at the latest, in case my father changes his mind. No need to drag this out."
Her heart, still tethered to the memory of Linz, seemed distant, torn between desire and pragmatism.
Victor's words were precise, calculated, an iron grip on her wavering resolve.
"He won't come back. No. He can't ever come back, even if he wants to."
He drew her focus back to him, offering a twisted kind of salvation.
"In that case, who do you think can make the things you want happen? I am now the only Lord and master of the House of Grayan."
He pressed his advantage further, a master of manipulation and persuasion.
"Not only will I settle all of your family's unpaid bills, I'll take care of the gangs in the south that have been giving you trouble."
His hand brushed against her hair in a possessive gesture, claiming authority, yet promising reward.
"And I'll give you the De Holters Gallery in Santoria Blue as a wedding present."
A dark, self-satisfied smile crossed his face.
"A gallery of De Holters' caliber should suffice to restore your family's ruined reputation. Or do you want more? Just say the word and I'll give it to you."
He leaned close, his warm breath brushing her skin, asserting control with every word.
"Still need more time to make up your mind?"
She said nothing, only a faint, resigned acknowledgment, allowing him to take the final step. He pressed his lips to hers in a possessive kiss, sealing her submission.
"Do you understand what this means? You can now do whatever you want, take whatever you want in this kingdom, this continent. Because I am your friend—and husband."
The memory ended sharply, like a slash of crimson. She kissed Victor, and the full weight of her betrayal and compromise flashed before her eyes.
I SHOULDN'T HAVE DONE THAT.
IN SPITE OF EVERYTHING, I SHOULDN'T HAVE TURNED TO VICTOR.
I watched her face, the self-condemnation written plainly across her features as the flashback subsided.
"You traded love for stability, and then you tried to use my family's ruin to secure that stability," I said, my voice cold, echoing the relentless drum of rain against the windows. "And yet, you still found no peace. You broke your promise for nothing."
I rose slowly from my chair, the movement deliberate, commanding the space.
"I have heard your reason," I continued, my tone steel-laced, "but it changes nothing about your crime. You trespassed on my property and tried to rob me."
"So, what happens now?" she asked, finally lifting her eyes to meet mine. The defiance had faded, replaced by a weary, resigned readiness.
"What happens now," I stated firmly, letting the words land like a verdict, "is that you face the consequences. The Serenity family will not be destroyed, and your desperate measure will fail. You may have the House of Grayan, but you will not have my secrets."
I reached for the house phone, my hand steady, my gaze never leaving hers.
"I will be calling my lawyer, and then I will be calling the police. You are leaving this house in handcuffs."
Diah pov
I stood up, my posture rigid, the silk of my gown whispering softly as I reached for the phone. "I will be calling my lawyer, and then I will be calling the police. You are leaving this house in handcuffs."
The woman—my opponent—remained still, but the color drained from her face. She closed her eyes, and a shadow of regret seemed to envelop her like a suffocating fog.
Her final words to Linz, the man she had betrayed, echoed in the darkness of her memory, exposing the full depth of her self-deception and the core of her motives.
TO EISER, THE BIGGEST BETRAYAL, THE MOST HURTFUL THING ABOVE ALL ELSE…
I imagined the flash of Linz's face, cold and accusing, cutting through her rationalizations.
…WAS PROBABLY THE FACT THAT I, DESPITE KNOWING HOW CONTENTIOUS THEIR RELATIONSHIP WAS… SUBMITTED TO VICTOR AND CHOSE TO SIDE WITH HIM.
She had tried to justify her actions to herself, masking guilt with logic.
BUT I DENIED IT TO MYSELF AT THE TIME. I DIDN'T BETRAY YOU.
WHILE YOU'RE EXHAUSTED AND DEFEATED… I AT LEAST WILL REMAIN HERE, WHERE I BELONG.
AFTER MAKING SURE MY FAMILY AND BUSINESS ARE SECURE, I'LL FIND A WAY TO BRING YOU BACK.
But her rationalizations were hollow, quickly overtaken by a bitter reality.
BUT THE TRUTH WAS THAT I WAS AFRAID OF MY FATHER AND THE HOUSE OF GRAYAN, WHO HAD COMPLETE CONTROL OVER MY HOUSEHOLD… AND I DIDN'T HAVE THE COURAGE TO THROW AWAY MY FAMILY OR MY REPUTATION.
The full weight of her mistake settled on her, a revelation she could no longer deny.
I BELIEVED HE'D UNDERSTAND WHERE I WAS COMING FROM, BUT LOOKING BACK, WHAT I DID WAS SELFISH AND CRUEL.
AND I REGRETTED WHAT I DID EVERY SINGLE DAY.
The regret became tangible, heavy and suffocating.
ONCE I BEGAN TO HAVE REGRETS, IT WAS UNBEARABLE TO FORCE MYSELF TO REMAIN WITH VICTOR…
Her desperation had pushed her to flight.
…SO BEFORE THE WEDDING, I BOUGHT MYSELF SOME TIME WITH THE EXCUSE THAT I WANTED TO GO ON A SOLO TRIP…
I could see her, burdened by her choices, isolated in some distant place, carrying the weight of her regrets. But her escape was brief, her freedom illusory.
…THEN I TRICKED BOTH FAMILIES AND WAS DRIVEN OUT OF MEURACEVIA AS PUNISHMENT.
AS MY FATHER SCREAMED HIS HEAD OFF, THREATENING TO KILL ME, BUT I BEGGED AND PLEADED UNTIL I NEARLY PASSED OUT…
AND LUCKILY MANAGED TO LEAVE WITH MY LIFE INTACT, AT LEAST.
The woman diah opened her eyes, meeting my gaze. Her defiance had dissolved completely, replaced by the exhausted misery of someone who had lost everything she once valued chasing fleeting ambitions.
"You're right," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rain that battered the windows. "I have lost everything. I came here tonight not to confess, but for some final, foolish hope that I could still gain something—anything—to make my choices feel worthwhile."
I held the phone to my ear, listening to the dial tone.
"You won't find absolution here," I told her, my voice cold and unwavering. "You chose power and security over a promise, and now you have neither. You chose to ruin me, and now you are ruined."
The line clicked as I began issuing instructions, my calm precision a stark contrast to the storm raging both outside and within the woman before me. She bowed her head, accepting the inevitable, and the silence was broken only by the relentless drumming of the rain—washing away the remnants of a failed ambition.
In Buiterberg, in exile, I had heard the news that he was getting married. His bride, the daughter of the House of Serenity, was on the path to ruin, and I understood his plan immediately. My chest tightened with a bitter envy, watching a woman whose family teetered on the edge of destruction, whose pride and reputation were in shreds.
CRUMPLE.
That woman, so fragile and determined, mirrored who I once was as well.
If I had remained with Eiser, I would have shone just as brightly as she does now. I would not have been trampled by those I despised and feared, nor forced to grovel for love in a world that demanded ruthlessness.
At least…
…at least I would never have had to endure the crushing guilt of betraying my fiancé, the bitter shame of surrendering all to my nemesis, or the suffocating misery of being abandoned by my own father.
I would have been free from all that pain. Free from all those regrets.
…The misery of being abandoned by my own father… I would never have had to feel any of those things.
Ms. Serena, you are… my ideal, the person I wanted to be. To make my family prosper, with him by my side, together.
CLENCH.
I couldn't help but compare your circumstances to mine, and the weight of it pressed down on me like iron. Every step I had taken, every choice I had made, seemed trivial against the backdrop of what you possessed. And it was unbearably painful.
I was still young then. Naïve. Fearful.
It was… just a single mistake. Surely it's understandable, isn't it? I was young and afraid.
CRAAASH.
Yet why are the consequences of that one mistake so severe? Why do they crush everything I hold dear?
I was furious. Not at you—not entirely—but at the unfairness of fate itself.
If I could only make up for my mistake… turn everything back to the way it was! I'd do anything to make that happen.
…The guilt over betraying my fiancé…
…The shame of giving up everything to my nemesis…
…The endless worry over the ruin I had inflicted on my own family…
Every regret converged into a suffocating storm inside me, and the echo of it haunted every waking moment.
"…If I could only make up for my mistake… turn everything back to the way it was! I'd do anything to make that happen."
"That's why you sent Frederick to me?" I said, my voice steady but sharp, each word cutting through the tension in the room. "Because you wanted to take advantage of my family for a second chance with Eiser?"
Ha… When had she managed to piece that together? The audacity of her planning, the desperation buried beneath each calculated act—it was almost admirable if it weren't so infuriating.
CLACK.
Even while trapped in the abyss, devoid of a single ray of light, I had eventually been given an opportunity to make my way to shore. A chance—no matter how small—to survive, to protect what mattered, to see the world beyond the suffocating darkness.
"I don't care if you call me shameless or vile," she said, her voice trembling with intensity. "I'd say or do even more horrible things if it meant I could get Eiser back."
"Don't treat him like an object without feelings," I snapped, my gaze unwavering. "Besides, he isn't yours."
RISE.
"Is he yours then?" she pressed, defiance warring with her desperation. "I know the two of you will be divorced soon."
Ha…
"That's right. A contractual marriage? Without an objective, a relationship of that nature will certainly implode," I said, letting a faint, bitter smile touch my lips.
I got lucky. Fate had given me leverage, the clarity to see through her manipulations. She thought herself clever, but I was already two steps ahead, watching, calculating.
CLUNK.
A hand moved deliberately, placing a cigarette on the drawer between us.
FLICK.
A lighter sparked, the flame dancing briefly before igniting the cigarette, a small, burning symbol of her persistence, her obsession, and the combustible desperation that had brought her to my doorstep tonight.
This stops exactly at the point of the cigarette being lit, fully expanding her desperation, internal conflict, and the tense confrontation with Serena.
Ha… When did she manage to find that out? The thought echoed in my mind, sharp and incredulous. How quickly had she pieced together the fragile threads of my strategy, my life, my carefully guarded secrets? The audacity—no, the desperation—was almost suffocating.
CLACK.
Even while trapped in the abyss, surrounded by shadows that threatened to swallow me whole, devoid of a single ray of light, the world had not completely forsaken me. There had been a fleeting chance, a narrow opening through which I could grasp at salvation, however tenuous. I was eventually given an opportunity to make my way to shore. A chance to breathe, to claw my way back to clarity, to find footing in a world that had seemed bent on crushing me.
I got lucky.
CLUNK.
A hand moved with deliberate purpose, placing a cigarette on the drawer before me. Its presence was a small, yet oddly grounding ritual, a spark of familiarity amidst chaos.
FLICK.
The lighter sparked, a brief flare illuminating the tense lines of my face, and the cigarette ignited. I took a drag, letting the smoke curl and twist in the air, a momentary veil between myself and the storm outside, a fragile barrier against the suffocating weight of despair.
EXHALE.
The smoke mingled with the tension in the room, drifting lazily before vanishing into the dim light. My eyes fell, almost instinctively, to the figure across from me, the one whose own desperation had led her to trespass and scheme.
Because I happened to meet…
…Frederick Bloom.
This preserves the pacing, the tension, and the first-person perspective, ending exactly on the reveal of Frederick Bloom.