The morning after the gala, I woke up famous.
And hated.
My phone had exploded overnight. Thousands of notifications. Hundreds of missed calls.
I scrolled through the headlines with shaking hands:
ALEXANDER KNIGHT'S MYSTERY WIFE: WHO IS SERAPHINA WESTWOOD?
FROM DISGRACE TO DIAMONDS: The Cinderella Story No One Believes
GOLD DIGGER OR TRUE LOVE? Knight's Shocking Marriage Raises Questions
But it was the comments that destroyed me.
She's clearly using him for money.
Look at her family scandal. Like mother, like daughter.
Give it six months. He'll realize his mistake.
She doesn't belong in his world. You can dress up trash, but it's still trash.
I dropped the phone like it burned.
A knock on my door.
"Mrs. Knight?" Marie's voice. "Breakfast is ready. And... you have a visitor."
My stomach dropped. "Who?"
"Ms. Vivienne Ashford. She says it's urgent."
The ex-fiancée.
The woman in red who'd looked at me like I was an insect at the gala.
"Tell her I'm not available."
"She's quite insistent. She says she'll wait."
Of course she would.
I dressed quickly—a simple black dress Marie had left out. Armor disguised as elegance.
When I entered the living room, she was there.
Vivienne Ashford stood by the windows, perfectly posed in a cream suit that probably cost more than a car. Every hair in place. Makeup flawless.
She looked like she belonged here.
Like I never would.
"Seraphina." She turned, smile sharp as a knife. "How lovely. We didn't get to talk properly at the gala."
"Ms. Ashford." I kept my voice steady. "This is unexpected."
"Please. Call me Vivienne." She moved closer, heels clicking on marble. "After all, we have so much in common now."
"Do we?"
"Alexander, of course." Her smile widened. "I was engaged to him for two years. I know him better than anyone."
The words were designed to wound.
They did.
"Was being the key word," I said quietly.
"Oh, darling." She laughed—light, musical, cruel. "You think this is real? This marriage?"
My hands clenched. "I think it's none of your business."
"But it is." She circled me slowly, like a predator. "You see, Alexander and I had an understanding. We'd marry, merge our families' companies, rule this city together. Then you came along."
"He chose me."
"He chose convenience." She stopped in front of me. "You were a scandal. A headline. The perfect way to make me jealous enough to come back."
Ice spread through my veins. "That's not—"
"Isn't it?" She tilted her head. "Did he tell you he loved you? Did he promise forever? Or did he offer you a contract?"
Silence.
She knew.
"I thought so." Vivienne's eyes glittered with triumph. "You're a placeholder, sweetheart. A temporary fix. Once I prove I'm ready to commit, he'll throw you away like yesterday's news."
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't I?" She pulled out her phone, showing me a text thread.
From Alexander.
Recent.
We need to talk. Tonight.
My breath caught.
"He texted me last night," Vivienne purred. "After the gala. After he left you. Interesting, don't you think?"
"Get out."
"Oh, I will." She pocketed her phone. "But here's some free advice, woman to woman. Don't fall for him. Don't think you're special. Alexander Knight doesn't love. He uses. And when he's done with you, there won't even be pieces left to pick up."
She walked toward the door, then paused.
"By the way, that dress at the gala? I helped him pick it. He asked my opinion on everything. What you'd wear. How you'd style your hair. Even your jewelry." Her smile was poison. "You were my doll, darling. And you didn't even know it."
The door closed behind her with a soft click.
I stood there, trembling.
Was it true?
Had he asked her opinion on my transformation?
Was I really just a tool to make her jealous?
My phone buzzed.
A news alert:
BREAKING: Westwood Family Files Lawsuit Against Seraphina Knight — Claims Fraud, Forgery, and Mental Instability
The room spun.
They were suing me.
Publicly.
Another notification:
Ethan Harrington Speaks Out: "I Tried to Help Her, But She Refused Treatment"
Video attached.
I clicked it with shaking hands.
Ethan's face filled the screen. Concerned. Sympathetic. Lying.
"Seraphina and I were together for three years," he said softly. "I loved her. I tried to help her through her... issues. But she became obsessed with her grandmother's money. She started acting erratically. Making accusations. When I suggested therapy, she cut me off completely."
The interviewer leaned in. "Do you believe she forged the will?"
"I don't want to believe it." He looked directly at the camera. At me. "But the Seraphina I knew wouldn't have married a stranger within days of her grandmother's death. Something changed. And I'm worried about her."
Lies.
All lies.
But they sounded so sincere.
So believable.
My phone wouldn't stop buzzing.
Texts from unknown numbers:
Gold-digging slut
You don't deserve him
Kill yourself before he realizes what trash you are
I dropped the phone.
Slid down the wall.
Couldn't breathe.
This was too much.
Too much.
The room closed in. Black spots danced in my vision.
"Seraphina?"
Alexander's voice. Distant. Worried.
When had he come home?
Strong hands on my shoulders. "Breathe. Look at me. Breathe."
I couldn't.
"Seraphina." Firm. Commanding. "In through your nose. Out through your mouth. With me."
He breathed. Deep. Steady.
I tried to match him.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
Slowly, the room came back into focus.
I was on the floor. Alexander kneeling beside me. His jacket gone. Tie loosened. Eyes intense.
"That's it," he murmured. "Keep breathing."
"They're suing me," I choked out. "Ethan did an interview. Everyone thinks I'm—"
"I know." His jaw clenched. "I've already called my lawyers."
"And Vivienne was here. She said—" My voice broke. "She said I'm just a placeholder. That you're using me to make her jealous. That you texted her last night."
Something dangerous flashed in his eyes.
"She said that?"
I nodded, tears streaming now.
"Seraphina." He cupped my face, forcing me to meet his eyes. "I did text her last night. Do you know what I said?"
I shook my head.
He pulled out his phone. Showed me the thread.
We need to talk. Tonight.
Then her response: I knew you'd come back to me.
His reply: If you threaten my wife again, I'll destroy your family's company. Stay away from her. This is your only warning.
My breath caught.
"You... you threatened her?"
"I don't make threats. I make promises." He pocketed his phone. "And I promised to protect you. That includes from her."
"But she said you asked her opinion on my clothes, my—"
"Lies." His voice was ice. "Every word. I've had no contact with her until last night's warning. Marie chose everything for you. Not Vivienne."
"Why would she—"
"Because she's desperate." He stood, pulling me up with him. "Because she knows she lost. And she's trying to poison you against me."
"It's working," I whispered.
His expression softened. Slightly.
"Then let me be clear." He stepped closer. "This marriage is a contract. Yes. But you are not a placeholder. You are not a tool. You are my wife, and I protect what's mine."
"But you don't—" I swallowed hard. "You don't actually care about me. You said so. No emotional attachments."
"I said a lot of things." He reached up, wiping a tear from my cheek with his thumb. "Some of them I'm starting to regret."
My heart hammered.
"What does that mean?"
Before he could answer, his phone rang.
He glanced at it, jaw tightening. "My lawyer. I need to take this."
The moment shattered.
"Of course."
He answered, walking toward his office. Professional. Cold.
Like the past five minutes hadn't happened.
I stood there, alone again.
But my phone buzzed.
A text from him:
Pack a bag. We're leaving tonight.
Where?
Somewhere they can't find you. Somewhere safe.
For how long?
As long as it takes to destroy them.
Then another text:
And Seraphina? Don't believe anything Vivienne tells you. The only person you should trust is me.
I stared at the message.
Trust him.
The man who'd married me for business.
The man who'd made rules against feelings.
The man who'd just wiped away my tears like they mattered.
Who was the real Alexander Knight?
My phone buzzed again.
Another news alert:
KNIGHT ENTERPRISES STOCKS DROP 15% FOLLOWING MARRIAGE SCANDAL
Shareholders Demand Explanation for "Rushed, Questionable Marriage"
Sources Say Alexander Knight's Judgment Compromised
Oh God.
I was destroying him.
His company. His reputation.
Everything he'd built.
Because of me.
I texted back:
Maybe we should just end this. Divorce quietly. Before I ruin you completely.
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Then:
Try to run, and I'll find you. Try to leave, and I'll stop you. You're my wife, Seraphina. For better or worse. And I don't lose.
Even if it destroys your company?
Especially then. Because now it's personal.
I didn't know what to say to that.
Another message:
Pack warm clothes. And bring your grandmother's pendant. You'll need it.
Why?
Because where we're going, it's the only piece of home you'll have.
Then:
And Seraphina? Stop reading the comments. They don't know you. I do.
The last message made something crack in my chest.
Do you?
His response was immediate:
I'm starting to.
That night, we left the city.
No press. No announcement.
Just Alexander, me, and a driver who knew how to lose a tail.
"Where are we going?" I asked as the city lights faded behind us.
"My family estate. Two hours north." He didn't look up from his laptop. "No one knows about it except my inner circle."
"Your family?"
"Dead. It's just me now."
The pain in those words was carefully hidden.
But I heard it anyway.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be." He closed the laptop, finally looking at me. "They weren't kind people."
We drove in silence.
Then he said quietly, "I lied to you."
My heart stopped. "About what?"
"The rules." He stared out the window. "When I said no emotional attachments. No feelings. I thought I could do that. I thought you'd be easy to keep at arm's length."
"And?"
He turned to me. Grey eyes intense in the darkness.
"You're not."
Before I could respond, his phone rang.
He answered. Listened. His expression went dark.
"When?" A pause. "How bad?"
Another pause.
"I'll handle it."
He hung up.
"What happened?"
"Your stepmother just held a press conference." His voice was ice. "She's claiming you had a history of violence. That you threatened her. That you're dangerous."
"That's insane—"
"She has a witness. Your cousin. She's backing up every lie."
The betrayal hit like a physical blow.
"Emily?" My voice cracked. "But we were... she was my friend."
"She was paid." Alexander's jaw clenched. "Fifty thousand dollars to testify against you."
"This can't be happening."
"It gets worse." He handed me his phone.
A video was playing.
My father. At a press conference. Looking devastated.
"My daughter is sick," he said, voice breaking. "She needs help. Professional help. This marriage to Mr. Knight is clearly a cry for attention. We're begging him—please, get her the treatment she needs before she hurts herself or others."
Hurt myself.
Hurt others.
They were painting me as insane.
Dangerous.
"They're trying to get you committed," Alexander said quietly. "If they can prove you're mentally unfit, they can contest the marriage. And the will."
"Can they do that?"
"They're going to try."
I couldn't breathe.
Everything was falling apart.
"Maybe they're right," I whispered. "Maybe I am crazy. For marrying you. For thinking I could survive this."
"Look at me."
I did.
"You are not crazy. You are not weak. You are a woman who survived a family that tried to break her. And you're still standing."
"Barely."
"Barely is enough." He leaned closer. "Because I'm going to teach you how to fight back. How to destroy them. How to make them regret every lie they've ever told about you."
"Why?" The question burst out. "Why do you care? This is ruining you. Your company. Your reputation. Just divorce me and—"
"No."
"Alexander—"
"No." His voice was steel. "I made a promise. And I keep my promises. You are my wife. And I will burn this city to the ground before I let them take you from me."
The intensity in his voice made my heart race.
"This isn't real," I whispered. "We're not real. You said so."
"I say a lot of things." He touched my face. Gentle. Dangerous. "Doesn't make them true."
Then his phone rang again.
The moment shattered.
He answered. "What now?"
Listened.
His expression went deadly.
"When?" A pause. "Are you sure?"
He hung up.
Looked at me.
And I saw something in his eyes I'd never seen before.
Fear.
"What?" My voice trembled. "What is it?"
"Someone leaked our location."
"What does that mean?"
"It means they're coming for you, Seraphina."
"Who?"
"Everyone."
The car suddenly swerved.
Tires screeched.
Headlights flooded the back window—blinding, aggressive.
"They found us," the driver said grimly.
Alexander pulled me close, shielding me with his body.
"Hold on."
The car accelerated.
And behind us, the hunters closed in.