Seraphina's POV
Seraphina never wanted any of this. But she had no choice, not when it came to her secret. The one truth about her family that could shatter everything.
Actually, she had truly intended to move on, from Damian, from the past, from all the wounds that never seemed to close, and just focus on her own life. But fate never played fair with Seraphina. It struck her down when she least expected it, with a cruel truth about her family.
Her family business was collapsing. The empire she grew up thinking was untouchable was crumbling right before her eyes. Her father, the man she once admired, was now being indicted for embezzling the country's funds. Prison loomed over him like a shadow that would not fade. And though he clawed and fought to bury the truth with more stolen money, Seraphina overheard him confess to her mother one night:
"I'll sell everything, every last piece of us, if that's what it takes to keep me out of jail."
And he did. Piece by piece, share by share, until their fortune bled away. Bankruptcy was no longer a threat, it was a storm rushing toward them.
Then came her mother. Cold, calculating, relentless. She sat Seraphina down and showed her the news of Damian losing his father. And with that sharp, commanding tone Seraphina could never defy, her mother reminded her of the friendship she once had with Damien. Then, without hesitation, she bought her a flight ticket to California.
"Go. Offer your condolences. And listen to me, Seraphina, do not return unless you come back as aLopez."
Those words struck harder than any slap. And that was when the thought, the dangerous possibility, began to take root.
So when she heard whispers of another woman breaking Damian's heart, Seraphina seized the chance with both hands. She thought pain might soften him enough to let her in. But her saving grace turned into her undoing, because the Damian she returned to no longer trusted women. Not even her.
Still, what choice did she have? The home she once knew was most likely gone, sold off by her desperate father. There was no "back" for her to run to. All that was left was to fight, fight for the Lopez name, for a place in Damian's world. Even if it meant scheming, lying, and playing the villain in a story she wished was hers to begin with.
Yes, Seraphina plotted. But oh, in quieter moments, she couldn't escape the gnawing thought: maybe she wasn't wicked. Maybe she was simply... unlucky.
Back in the present, Seraphina's simmering rage found a new target. She noticed Cathy avoiding Eric, while Eric, like a relentless Tom chasing Jerry, hounded the poor girl with reckless persistence. The day she saw him corner Cathy and steal a kiss, Seraphina nearly screamed her lungs out. The sight of Cathy's bashful blush cut through her chest like a blade. She managed only a sharp, scornful gasp before striding away with her head held high, but inside, jealousy burned her alive.
And when she overheard Eric, with that husky, velvet voice of his, begging Cathy to visit him over the weekend, something in her snapped. The last fragile piece of restraint shattered. In that instant, she almost threw her six-inch heels at him, every fiber of her soul screaming in hatred. Oh, how she despised him.
Hated him for his arrogance.
Hated him for stirring what she was fighting to kill.
And most of all, hated him because he had the power to make her feel small, unwanted, replaceable.
And when Seraphina got home that night, sleep betrayed her. She tossed, turned, flipped her pillow, kicked off her sheets, but nothing worked. Every time she shut her eyes, Eric's face appeared. At first it was anger that burned through her veins, the sheer audacity of him kissing that little girl, Cathy. Then irritation gnawed at her. Then jealousy sank its claws so deep it ached. By the time the night bled into dawn, Seraphina realized with horror that she wasn't just restless, she was unraveling.
Saturday morning arrived, but the sun only mocked her. She couldn't think straight. Couldn't sip her coffee. Couldn't dress without fumbling. The only image tormenting her was Eric, his hands, his mouth, his voice, wrapped around Cathy. In her mind, they were already tangled together, laughing, kissing, maybe even in bed. The thought made her stomach twist and her chest constrict. Would Eric ever want her again, after tasting the innocence of a girl like Cathy?
That was it, the last straw. Seraphina's fury and fear collided until she couldn't breathe. She jumped to her feet, tore through her closet, grabbed her clothes and practically flung herself into the bathroom. She didn't think. She couldn't. Her pride, her dignity, her reason, all of it was nothing compared to the raw panic of losing him.
Minutes later, she was out the door, heart pounding like a drum, heels clacking on the pavement as if she were being chased by her own thoughts. She had never been to Eric's house before, God, she had to stoop so low as to call Damien. The very idea made her skin crawl with humiliation.
She dialed, and when his voice came through the receiver, calm and low, she nearly choked on her words.
"Hello, Damien... it's me, Seraphina. P-please, wait, don't hang up! I'm not calling to disturb you, I swear. It's just, Mr. Eric asked for some documents before the weekend and I_ I forgot to give them to him. Could you, could you help me with his address so I can deliver it to him personally?"
There was a pause. The kind of pause that said he saw right through her. She could almost hear the curve of his smirk. And then, for the first time in forever, Damien's voice softened, almost teasing, almost kind.
"Oh? Eric's house isn't difficult to find. It's a few blocks away from mine. I'll send you the address. And since you're going there, I'd appreciate it if you could pick up a classic wine on the way, a gift for a job well done this week. I'll reimburse you."
Her heart stuttered. "Oh, no, it's totally fine. I'll handle it. You don't have to bother."
"Cool then. Say me well to him." His words lingered like smoke before the line went dead.
When she set her phone down, Seraphina rubbed her temple while thinking about how awkward that call has been. The whole call had been, strange. Too strange. But she pushed it aside. She had bigger wars to fight. Eric couldn't belong to anyone else. Not Cathy. Not another woman. Not in this lifetime.
By the time she stood before his door, her pulse was a drumbeat in her ears. In one hand, she clutched the bottle of red wine Damien had asked for. In the other, she clenched the trembling storm of her pride. She jabbed the doorbell, breath caught in her throat.
And after some time, the door was finally opened by Eric, who was wearing an apron and grinning happily like a man at peace, only for the smile to instantly dissolve into a frown the moment he saw her.
"Seraphina, what are you doing here?"
She scoffed, shoving the wine bottle into his chest before slightly pushing past him, striding in like the queen she believed herself to be. Once inside, her eyes swept over his home, and she couldn't lie, she was impressed. The house stood in the same neighborhood as Damien's, but though more modest, it radiated quiet wealth and taste. She let her gaze linger, lips curling in reluctant approval.
Eric shut the door firmly and followed her in.
"What are you doing here? And how in God's name did you find my house!"
"I asked Damien."
"You what?" His eyes widened. "Are you trying to raise suspicion?"
But Seraphina wasn't even listening. Her eyes were on him now, roaming from the apron tied around his waist to the faint trace of steam and the delicious aroma wafting from the kitchen. Her lips parted in mock surprise.
"I never knew you cooked."
"There are many things about me you don't know," he replied flatly. "And you still haven't answered why you're here."
"I'd advise you go turn the stove off."
His brows furrowed. "Why?"
"Because it might get burnt."
She moved closer, her heels clicking against the polished floor, her every step dripping with intent. Standing in front of him, she tilted her head, her long, polished nail tracing the bridge of his nose before resting against his lips. Her voice dropped into a sultry whisper.
"Because I came here to remind you, with my body, just how foolish you've been. You don't hurt the same body that brought you pleasure. Also, you don't hurt a woman who can make you forget the world with a single touch."
Her hand slid down from his face to his chest, her fingers grazing his apron string as she leaned in, her perfume intoxicating, her lips hovering just inches from his. The way her eyes smoldered at him made her intentions crystal clear.
But Eric stiffened, catching her wrist before she could go further. His jaw tightened.
"Stop. Seraphina, stop! I'm not going to fall for this, not this time. So leave!"
Her head snapped up, her eyes flaring with rage.
"Why? So your stupid little girlfriend can come instead? You want to sleep with her? You don't want me anymore? Are you trying to push me away just like Damien did? Is that it?"
Her voice cracked, and then she broke. With a strangled cry, she stormed into the kitchen and began smashing things, plates, glasses, whatever she could get her hands on. Eric rushed forward, helpless.
"What is wrong with you, Seraphina!"
"What is wrong with me?" she screamed, tears streaming down her face. "You! You are what's wrong with me, Eric!"
Her voice trembled, raw and desperate. "I like you, damn it, I like you. And I'm jealous, jealous of that small girl you're always chasing and kissing. Eric, I want to be the only woman in your life."
She stumbled closer, clutching at his shirt with trembling hands, her tear-filled eyes boring into his.
"I_ I don't want you to be with her. Or anyone. Because I like you, Eric. I really do."
Before he could respond, Seraphina pressed her lips against his. This time, Eric didn't push her away. Something about the raw desperation in her trembling voice, the way her tears stained her cheeks, cut through his usual control. Against his better judgment, he let her have her way.
But then, almost as quickly, he pulled back, his chest rising and falling heavily.
"No, Seraphina, this is wrong. I have an understanding with Cathy. If she sees you here, she'll tell Damian, and, she should be here any moment,"
"She's blackmailing you?" Seraphina cut in, scoffing. She pulled him back toward her, her eyes gleaming with a dangerous mix of fury and desire.
"Guess what, Eric? I'll play the same card. If you don't stay with me and get rid of that girl. Trust me when i say I'll report you to Damian myself."
"What?" His eyes widened. "Do you realize you'll lose everything if you do that?"
"I can twist the story in my favor," she whispered in his ear, her lips brushing against his skin. "I could say you forced yourself on me, or I could decide to give it all up. It all depends on you, ."
Eric stared at her in disbelief. She's really willing to risk everything, for me?
That dangerous thought seared through his mind, and before he could stop himself, he crushed his lips against hers in a kiss that was no longer gentle but rough, hungry. She responded instantly, matching his fire, clawing at his shirt until buttons snapped and fabric tore.
He lifted her, pressing her against the wall as their mouths battled for dominance, her moans vibrating against his lips. She tugged at his belt, pulling it free, while he slid his hands beneath her dress, dragging it upward until it was nothing but a discarded heap on the floor.
Within moments, they were tangled on the couch in the living room, bodies colliding in a frenzy of heat and recklessness. Every movement was wild, desperate, two people losing themselves in forbidden pleasure.
But just as the rhythm of their passion reached its height, Eric froze. A faint sound broke through, the sharp chime of the doorbell. His blood ran cold.
Heart hammering, he scrambled off the couch, snatching up his trousers with shaking hands. He shoved them on, leaving the rest of his clothes scattered as he stumbled toward the door.
And there, standing at the entrance, was Cathy.
She looked radiant, her floral gown swaying softly in the breeze, her hair perfectly set, her face glowing with expectation and innocence. She held a small gift bag in one hand, perfume lingering in the air around her like a promise. Her smile was bright, warm, filled with excitement, the kind of smile a girl wears when visiting her lover.
Eric's throat tightened. He tried to block the doorway, hiding his still-aroused body behind the doorframe, scrambling for an excuse that could send her away.
But then, like a nightmare, Seraphina appeared behind him. Completely naked. Her lips curled into a victorious smile, and she even waved at Cathy as though this were a game.
Cathy's smile shattered instantly. Her hand flew to her mouth, muffling a sob as her wide eyes glistened with unshed tears. She shook her head in disbelief, her entire body trembling, before bolting away without another word.
The door clicked shut behind her, leaving silence, except for Eric's racing heartbeat and Seraphina's breathless laugh.
But before Eric could react, Seraphina yanked him back inside, and crashed her lips against his. Her kiss was bruising, almost desperate, and though he tried to push her away at first, her persistence broke through his resistance. Against every warning voice in his head, Eric surrendered, his hands gripping her waist as he kissed her back with equal fire.
The heat between them ignited fast, like dry wood catching flames. Seraphina clawed at his shirt, ripping the buttons open as though she wanted to tear down every barrier between them. Her nails raked across his skin, sending shivers through his chest. He groaned into her mouth, sliding his hands down her back, pulling her body flush against his until he could feel every curve pressing into him.
They stumbled toward the couch, lips never parting, their breath heavy and ragged. Seraphina pushed him down and straddled him without hesitation, her hair falling wild around her face, her eyes burning with hunger and defiance. She wanted him, wanted to own him, to prove she could have him no matter the cost.
Eric's hands roamed over her thighs, squeezing, sliding up until he found bare skin. She gasped, throwing her head back as his touch teased her, and he couldn't help but capture that exposed neck with hungry kisses.
Her moans filled the room, sweet and unrestrained, as she pressed herself harder against him. "You see, Eric..." she whispered breathlessly between kisses, "...you can't resist me."
His answer came not in words but in the way he grabbed her hips and pulled her down onto him, grinding until she cried out from the contact. Their movements grew frantic, clothing tossed aside in a blur until both of them were bare, flesh against flesh, the air thick with heat and need.
He continues to thrust into aher, Seraphina let out a broken cry that was equal parts triumph and pleasure. She clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders, riding the waves of ecstasy as they moved together in a rhythm that grew wilder with every second.
The couch creaked beneath their passion, the room echoing with the sounds of breathless moans and whispered curses. For Seraphina, it was more than sex, it was conquest, desperation, and a taste of the forbidden. For Eric, it was dangerous surrender, a moment where lust drowned out reason.
And still, they couldn't stop.