🌹 Chapter 4
Lucien returned the next day.And the day after that.Always alone. Always just one drink.
At first, Seraphina thought he was monitoring her out of amusement. Then curiosity. But after five visits, she realized he wasn't watching for weakness.
He was watching for strength.
"You're consistent," she said flatly one morning.
"So are you," he replied.
She served his coffee with no extra sugar. "This a hobby for you now? Watching fallen heiresses rebuild their lives?"
He leaned forward. "I watch storms. You just happen to be one."
Her heart didn't flutter. It thundered.
But she ignored it.
"I'm not interested in charity."
"Good," he said. "Because I'm not offering it."
He left a business card with just his initials: L.V.
No title. No offer. Just… presence.
Later that night, Seraphina sat alone in her small apartment, holding the card.
She had a choice.
She could burn it. Pretend she didn't feel the strange safety in his eyes. Pretend she didn't like how he looked at her — like she was not broken, but becoming.
Or she could keep it.
Just for now.
Not as hope. But as warning.
Outside, the wind howled against her window.
Inside, her voice whispered, "Don't fall. Not again."
But the card remained in her drawer — untouched, unthrown.
Because even porcelain shards can still reflect light.