Last night's aftermath was nothing short of grim. The bodies of the unconscious intruders were swiftly cleared out by Reiner's crisis response team, while medics attended to the bruised and bleeding servants—many of whom had been caught in the crossfire or knocked aside in the chaos. The estate, once pristine, now bore the haunting traces of violence: shattered glass, blood-smeared marble, and furniture overturned in desperate struggle. Lucien, still seething beneath his bandaged wounds, turned to Reiner with cold fury in his eyes and growled, "Fire every damn bodyguard. All of them. I don't care what it costs—bring in elite-level protection, the best in the country. I want two guards stationed for everyone we had before, and they report directly to me. If anything—anything—feels off, they call me without hesitation." Seraphine's eyes opened in shock, while Asher patted him on the shoulders. Then he turned towards Seraphine and whispered only enough for her to hear, "He promised me that he will let the world burn of you." Reiner nodded sharply, understanding the weight of the order. There would be no more mistakes. Not on Lucien Vade Castellano's watch.
Next Morning…
Morning sunlight filtered through the linen drapes, casting a golden hue across the bedroom of Lucien's estate. The silence was soft, almost sacred, but it couldn't hush the dull ache that sat heavy in Lucien's bones.
He stirred slowly, breath shallow. His body was a map of pain — each bruise a continent, each muscle pulled taut like wire. Purple and yellow bloomed beneath his ribs, his arms wrapped in gauze. His left eye throbbed with every heartbeat. He turned his head slightly and found her beside him, her hand still resting over his.
Seraphine.
The gentle rise and fall of her breath was the only thing grounding him.
He stared at her face — strands of hair clinging to her cheek, dried tears crusting beneath her lashes. He remembered the bat swinging down, the panic in her voice, the way she held it with trembling fingers and struck that man like her life depended on it.
Maybe it had.
He swallowed a lump in his throat, but it only made the burning worse.
A knock came, soft. Then louder.
The door creaked open and in limped Asher, shirtless and bandaged, his expression a cross between sympathy and smugness. "Still alive, old man?"
Lucien grunted. "Barely."
Asher walked in, each step reminding him of his own cracked ribs. "She hasn't moved," he said, nodding to Seraphine. "Not once. Sat there the whole night." He pointed at the corner of the room. "Woke up when you muttered in your sleep and almost cried, when she saw your wound bleed again."
Lucien's jaw clenched. "She shouldn't have—"
"She wanted to," Asher interrupted. "You should've seen her, Lucien. She went full demon mode. Swung a bat harder than you ever could."
Lucien gave a weak laugh. "Now I'm insulted."
Asher chuckled, walking to the dresser. "I'll give you two a minute. Try not to be loud. My ears are still ringing from yesterday's symphony of violence. Dang those men scream louder than I ever made girls scream for me."
The door clicked shut behind him.
A few seconds passed. Then Seraphine stirred, lashes fluttering open. Her gaze found Lucien's and widened in relief. She sat up immediately. "Lucien—"
"Easy, angel," he murmured. "I'm fine."
"You're not." Her voice cracked as her hand reached for his cheek. "Your cheeks… your ribs…" she sighed before continuing, "Your chest and right knee are all brutally beaten."
He tried to joke. "The floor came at me too hard."
She didn't laugh. Her fingertips barely grazed the bruises along his face. "You look like a war painting," she whispered.
"I feel like one," he muttered, leaning into her touch.
As she reached for the ointment jar beside the bed, her hands began to tremble. She dropped the ointment .
Lucien caught it — barely, but it was there on his right hand.
She was shaking.
"My angel you—"
"I saw your blood, Lucien." She cut in. Her voice was paper-thin. "I heard your bones crack. You didn't scream. You didn't even flinch when they hit you again. But I screamed—on the inside, I screamed so loud my soul broke."
Lucien sat up despite the fire in his spine. "Hey, look at me."
She did, eyes brimming with tears.
"You saved me. Twice."
"I couldn't stop them," she whispered. "They hurt you so bad and I… I just sat there."
"You picked up a bat and broke a man's skull, and flipped him over like a pancake." Lucien said softly. "That's not 'just sitting there.' You didn't freeze. You protected me."
She blinked away the tears, voice cracking again. "I thought I lost you."
Lucien hesitated, then spoke, voice quieter than usual. "You reminded me of someone. My childhood friend"
Seraphine looked up.
"She was someone I couldn't save, even though she managed to save me." he said, staring past her. "Years ago. Different city. Same feeling of helplessness. I still see her face when I close my eyes. And last night, for a second, I thought history was repeating itself."
He turned his gaze back to her.
"But you shattered it. You rewrote the ending."
Seraphine reached for his hand and entwined her fingers in his. They sat there, bruises and silence between them, until he finally whispered:
"I'm more scared of losing you than I am of dying."
She sucked in a breath.
"I'd let the whole world burn if it meant keeping you safe," he continued. "You're the only thing that makes this pain worth it. If your skin was made of thorns, I wouldn't have minded bleeding to death."
Seraphine's voice shook. "Then let me be strong for you, too. I don't want to be the reason you bleed. I want to be your blade when your hands can't lift anymore."
He pulled her in gently, pressing her palm to his heart. "You already are."
And in that moment, Seraphine leaned in and kissed one of the angry scars slashing across his chest — not out of passion, but out of reverence. Like it was holy ground.
They stayed close, bodies bruised but hearts louder than ever.
A whistle cut the quiet.
The door creaked again.
Asher stood with his phone raised. "Okay… I was going to bring breakfast, but you two just fed my soul instead."
Lucien groaned, "Asher—"
"Relax, Romeo. I'm not livestreaming your emotional monologue." He said as he made his way towards Lucien.
Lucien reached out in a bat of an eye and grabbed Asher's leg, yanking it hard. Asher let out a surprised yelp and hit the ground with a thud. Lucien smacked him lightly on the head.
"Ow! Jesus—"
"Don't you ever record me again."
Seraphine rolled her eyes and pushed Lucien's arm away. "Not today, both of you."
Asher rubbed his head. "You know, Lucien… you got lucky. She's got brains, beauty, and bat-swinging precision."
He winked.
Lucien looked at Seraphine.
And for the first time since the bloodshed, he smiled like a man finally home.