“Mommy, I’m scared.”
The words ripped straight through me.
My vision blurred, tears burning hot behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall—not here, not in front of her, not in front of men who fed on weakness.
Seraphina smiled.
Slow. Cold. Triumphant.
“If you want your child back,” she said softly, like she was offering tea, “I only ask for one thing...”
“Stop throwing yourself at a man who doesn’t want you,” I snapped, voice shaking with fury. The words tasted like acid. “You’re pathetic.”
Her smile sharpened.
“Will you let me finish,” she said mildly, “before embarrassing yourself further?”
She tilted her head, studying me with clinical interest. “He married you in secret. Our sources confirmed that.” A pause—then the blade slid in deeper. “The marriage is temporary. Three months.”
My breath caught.
“Our spy,” she continued lightly, “says it’s a contractual arrangement. I’m not entirely convinced you can survive three months without your precious boy.”
The word spy rang in my skull like a warning bell.
Of course there was one.
She stepped aside just enough—just enough—to let me see the last sliver of Viktor’s broad back disappearing down the corridor, my son dragged beside him.
“Vanya!” I screamed.
The sound tore out of me—raw, animal, unrecognizable.
My knees trembled as agony ripped through my chest, so sharp it felt physical, like something was being torn loose inside me. My hands shook violently, my entire body vibrating with the need to run, to tear down walls, to kill if necessary.
I surged.
Adrenaline exploded through my veins. I wrenched myself sideways, nails raking flesh, elbow driving hard into a guard’s gut. He staggered back with a grunt of surprise.
Another grabbed for me—I twisted, feral and wild, fueled by nothing but terror and rage.
Seraphina watched it all with open amusement.
“So,” she said calmly, adjusting a diamond bracelet at her wrist, “here are my terms.”
I froze, chest heaving, eyes locked on her.
“You convince Dmitri to let me move into the villa,” she continued. “I want the room next to yours.” Her lips curved. “Close enough to hear everything.”
The audacity nearly stole my breath.
“Do that,” she finished, “and you get your son back.”
I laughed.
It tore out of me—broken, hysterical, soaked in tears I refused to shed.
“Tell Dmitri yourself,” I said hoarsely. “Let’s see how far you get.”
