The mansion was unusually quiet that night. Seren moved through the halls with soft, measured steps. Every creak of the floor sounded louder than usual, and she kept imagining eyes on her from every shadow.
Her phone buzzed quietly in her pocket. A message from Rowan:
He trusts you more than he should. Use it.
Seren clenched her teeth. She knew he was right. Alaric's trust was dangerous, but it was also her advantage.
She paused outside the study. The door was slightly ajar. Light spilled into the hallway.
Curiosity pushed her forward. She had to see.
Inside, Alaric was alone, reviewing papers. A small stack of folders lay in front of him. His expression was tense, lips pressed together. For the first time, he looked human. Fragile in a way he never allowed others to see.
Seren hesitated, then stepped in.
"You're still awake," he said without looking up.
"I could say the same," she replied.
He glanced at her quickly. "You shouldn't wander here."
"I'm not wandering. I'm… observing," she said.
Alaric's eyes narrowed. "Observing me?"
"Observing everything," she said.
He didn't respond. Instead, he handed her one of the folders.
"Look at this," he said.
Seren opened it carefully. It contained internal communications and contracts. Names she didn't recognize at first, then one made her heart skip: Harlan Cross.
"I saw his name before," she said quietly.
Alaric's eyes sharpened. "You know him?"
"Yes," she admitted. "He was… connected to my father."
A long silence passed. Alaric leaned back, studying her. "You're deeper in this than I thought."
"I married you for a reason," she said. "I'm not here to play house."
He let out a short laugh. "Good. I don't want a wife who plays house."
---
Hours later, a sudden alert on the security monitors caught Seren's attention. A black SUV had parked near the estate's back gate. Two figures stepped out. They moved carefully, checking for cameras, and then disappeared into the trees.
Alaric saw the screens and didn't flinch. "They're testing us," he said. "They want to see how fast we react."
Seren felt a thrill of danger. "Should I—"
"Stay inside," he ordered. "Do not leave this room. Wait for instructions."
Her hands trembled slightly, but she obeyed. She watched as Alaric mobilized the guards, checking cameras, closing gates, and securing entrances. Every move was precise, efficient. The power in his control was terrifying and magnetic.
And she realized how much she depended on him, whether she liked it or not.
---
Later that night, Alaric came to her room. He was dressed simply, no suit, no tie. The soft light from the hall highlighted the sharp lines of his face.
"They left," he said. "But they'll be back. Stronger next time."
"Then we'll be ready," Seren replied.
He studied her for a moment. "You're brave."
"I have to be," she said. "Or I'm done before I even start."
He stepped closer. "Careful. Bravery doesn't protect you from mistakes."
She met his gaze, unflinching. "Then I'll make fewer mistakes than you think."
He didn't respond immediately. Instead, he reached out and picked up the folder she had left on the desk. Flipping through it, he frowned.
"You know too much already," he said quietly.
"I know what I need to know," she replied.
"You're dangerous," he said finally.
"So are you," she whispered.
They stood there in silence for a moment, the air thick with tension. Neither moved, neither spoke.
The mansion was quiet, but outside, the city pulsed with life. And in that quiet, they both realized something neither wanted to admit: the lines between trust and danger, loyalty and revenge, were blurring.
And crossing those lines could destroy them both.