Chapter 5: A Visit From the Humiliated Past
The tension from the morning's confrontation with Elara still hummed in the penthouse air. Sera hadn't seen Alistair, but she felt his presence everywhere—in the scent lingering on the expensive fabric, in the silence of the guards stationed outside the suite, and in the sheer weight of her new, impossible title.
Her phone, a sleek new model provided by Alistair's staff, chirped with a notification. It was a formal, digitally signed summons from Thorne & Co. Legal: Mark Reynolds and Chloe Simmons had been officially locked out of their old company, which now legally belonged to Seraphina Thorne, via an emergency board resolution.
Sera allowed a small, satisfied smile to curl her lips. The revenge felt less about bitterness now, and more about achieving the cold, clean justice she deserved.
* * *
She was in the grand library—a vast, dark room filled with leather-bound books and the scent of history—when the butler, a stiff human named James, approached her.
"Madam Luna," James said, his voice clipped and precise. "There are visitors at the ground floor requesting an audience. They claim to be... family friends."
Sera knew instantly. Only the truly desperate would bypass Alistair's security to reach her.
"Who is it, James?"
"Mr. Mark Reynolds, and Miss Chloe Simmons, Madam." James sounded utterly unimpressed, as if they were requesting to sell him cheap kitchen knives.
Sera's heart didn't flutter with anxiety; it hammered with anticipation. She smoothed the silk of her dress. This was the second act of her revenge—not public, but private and utterly devastating.
"Escort them to the small parlor, James," Sera instructed, standing tall. "And please, do ensure they are made to wait for precisely twenty minutes."
* * *
The small parlor, though called "small," was larger than Sera's previous apartment. It was furnished in intimidating antiques and dark wood. When Sera finally entered, Mark and Chloe shot up from the velvet sofa, their expressions a desperate blend of confusion, shock, and mounting panic.
Chloe, the first to recover, rushed forward. Her composure from the other night was gone; her face was blotchy, and her expensive emerald dress looked cheap in this setting.
"Sera! Thank God! You have to help us! This is some kind of misunderstanding!" Chloe grabbed Sera's arm, but Sera instinctively pulled away.
"A misunderstanding, Chloe? Or perhaps the realization that stealing a future has consequences?" Sera's voice was calm, refined, utterly unlike the tired PA they had ridiculed.
Mark, ever the dramatic one, pointed an accusing finger. "You did this! You convinced Thorne to buy my company! You bought me out with your settlement money, didn't you? It was cruel, Sera, even for you."
Sera sat down, crossing her legs elegantly, forcing them to stand over her like petitioners. "You are mistaken, Mark. I didn't buy your debt with my settlement. I bought it with Alistair Thorne's money. And I did it because your perceived ambition was entirely reliant on my money, my stability, and my invisibility. You called me 'dead weight.' I merely proved I was the anchor that kept your sinking venture afloat."
Mark was practically trembling. "But why? I was leaving you for someone better! You always said you supported my dreams!"
Sera's icy blue eyes fixed on Chloe. "I supported him, Chloe. But you taught me the cost of loyalty. And Alistair taught me the price of power."
She picked up a small, ornate silver bell and gave it a delicate ring. James immediately appeared.
"James," Sera requested sweetly, "would you please bring Mr. Reynolds and Miss Simmons the finalized transfer documents for Velocity Dreams?"
James returned instantly with a folder. Sera handed it to Mark.
"You now own 100% of the debt, Mark. No assets, no investors, no future. And Chloe, since you matched his ambition, I assume you'll be sharing the debt." Sera paused, allowing the devastation to sink in. "Now, get out of my home."
Mark looked shattered, clutching the folder as if it contained his obituary.
"Your home?" Chloe choked out, her voice rising to a panicked shriek. "You think this contract makes you safe? That man is a monster! A cold, ruthless—"
The parlor door flew open with a force that made the expensive furniture rattle. Alistair stood there, his presence a dark, overwhelming force. He hadn't been home moments ago, yet he was here now. His golden eyes were blazing, fixed not on Sera, but on Chloe.
"You will never speak ill of my wife in my home again," Alistair snarled, the voice low, guttural, and laced with pure predator warning. The air felt thin, dangerous. "Leave now, or I will ensure neither of you see the sunrise."
Mark grabbed Chloe's arm, terror finally overriding greed. They stumbled out, disappearing quickly into the hallway.
* * *
Alistair didn't move until the sound of the front door closing echoed distantly. He turned to Sera, the gold in his eyes slowly receding.
"You handled the initial skirmish well," Alistair commented, his tone tight. "But you lingered too long. You allowed them to disrespect your position."
"I was finalizing the revenge," Sera replied, her heart still racing from Alistair's terrifying, protective appearance. "Why were you here? You said you were at the office."
Alistair walked slowly to the window, his large frame silhouetted against the city. "The Mate bond, Sera. It is inconvenient. It registers distress. When they raised their voices, my instinct demanded my presence. My instinct demanded protection."
He turned, the coldness returning to his gaze. "Remember the contract. I protect you. You perform. Do not confuse instinct with affection. And do not, under any circumstances, allow anyone to threaten the Luna again. It might break my discipline."
END OF CHAPTER FIVE.