The walk back to the penthouse was a blur of polished floors and silent, judging corridors. The Dominion gel was beginning to wear off, the artificial confidence ebbing to reveal the raw, trembling anxiety beneath. Magnus's words echoed in her skull, a toxic mantra. Stronger heir. No sentiment. Only utility.
The penthouse doors slid open. The air was still, the only sound the faint hum of climate control. Sera was awake.
She was sitting upright on the edge of the sofa, her posture rigid. She had changed into a simple, high necked grey dress, its collar doing little to hide the angry edge of the bonding mark. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, knuckles white. The suppressants and sedatives had left her pale and hollow eyed, but a fierce, fragile dignity clung to her. This was the actress, preparing for a role she never wanted.
Her eyes lifted as Kaelen entered. There was no confusion now. Only a deep, weary understanding and a wall of pure, unadulterated hatred. The -100% might as well have been glowing in the air between them.
"The quarterly review," Kaelen said, her voice thankfully flat from exhaustion and chemical drop. "You're expected to attend. My father… insists."
Sera's expression didn't change. "I am aware of what is expected of me."
There was no fight in her tone. It was the calm acceptance of a prisoner walking to the gallows. It was worse than screaming.
"The press will be there," Kaelen added, the words feeling like ash in her mouth. "Your uncle will be presenting the Vesper quarterly report."
A flicker of something pain, disgust crossed Sera's face before it was ruthlessly suppressed. Her uncle, the man who had likely squandered what was left of her family's legacy, paraded as a puppet for Blackwood's amusement. It was a special kind of cruelty.
"I will be the picture of compliance," Sera said, her voice barely a whisper. "As always."
An hour later, they stood side by side in the descending private elevator, a chasm of silence between them. Kaelen was back in her armor of black silk and Dominion induced poise. Sera was a statue of quiet despair, her beauty a carefully arranged mask for the cameras.
The executive conference room was a theater of power. A massive holographic table dominated the center, currently displaying the spinning Blackwood Corp logo. The walls were screens, currently opaque, but soon to be alive with data and the faces of remote attendees. The air smelled of expensive coffee, ozone from the tech, and the mingled, aggressive scents of powerful Alphas.
Magnus sat at the head of the table, a king on his throne. Cassian was to his right, smirking, his Dominant aura a barely leashed wave of contempt. Lilith sat to his left, cool and impassive, reviewing a data slate.
Kaelen took her assigned seat, Sera silently slipping into the chair beside her a placement that was both a claim and a humiliation.
The meeting began. It was a symphony of numbers, projections, and corporate jargon. Kaelen spoke when required, her answers clipped and technically precise, pulled from the original's memories. She could feel her father's gaze on her, a constant, weighing pressure. Cassian's smirk never faded, especially when the underperformance of the Bio Synth division was discussed.
Then it was time for Vesper Pharmaceuticals.
The main wall screen flickered to life, revealing a man in his late fifties with a weak chin and a too hearty smile. Alban Vesper, Sera's uncle. He looked like a man desperately trying to appear in control of a ship that had already sunk.
"A modest quarter, but promising!" he began, his voice slightly too loud. "Our research into new synthetic suppressants is yielding… intriguing data."
As he droned on, exaggerating minor successes and glossing over catastrophic failures, Kaelen watched Sera. Her face was a perfect, neutral mask, but her hands, hidden under the table, were clenched so tightly her short nails were digging into her palms. This was her birthright. Her family's legacy. Reduced to this pathetic man making excuses to the family that owned him.
"And of course," Alban said, his smile becoming unctuous, "the continued… alliance… with the Blackwood family provides a stability that allows us to focus on innovation." His eyes darted to Sera on the screen, a flicker of unease in his gaze. "We are all family, after all."
The hypocrisy was breathtaking. Sera didn't flinch, but Kaelen saw the minute tremor that ran through her shoulder.
Cassian snorted, a soft, derisive sound. Magnus's expression didn't change.
The presentation ended. As the screen went dark, Magnus finally spoke. "Adequate," he said, the single word dripping with condescension. "See that the next quarter is less 'modest,' Alban."
The meeting concluded. As people began to rise, the wall screens shifted again, this time to a live feed of the press corps waiting in the lobby below. The performance was not over.
Magnus stood. "Kaelen. Seraphina. A word with the press. A brief appearance. A show of unity." His eyes pinned Sera. "And family."
They were herded into a private elevator that descended to the main lobby. The doors opened onto a cacophony of flashing lights and shouted questions. Kaelen instinctively straightened, the Dominion gel fueling a facade of cool authority. She stepped out, and Sera followed, a half step behind, as protocol demanded.
"Miss Blackwood! Over here!"
"Miss Vesper! How does it feel to be part of the Blackwood family's success?"
"Any comment on the rumors of a bonding ceremony?"
Kaelen offered a tight, meaningless smile, giving generic answers about corporate synergy and future goals. She was painfully aware of Sera beside her, a silent, beautiful ghost.
Then a reporter, sharper than the others, shouted a question directly at Sera. "Miss Vesper! Your uncle mentioned the family's 'innovative' future. Do you see yourself taking a more active role in Vesper Pharmaceuticals, or will you continue your… hiatus from public life?"
It was a barbed question, designed to highlight her powerlessness.
Sera turned her head slowly towards the reporter. And in that moment, the actress took the stage. A soft, melancholic smile touched her lips, perfectly calibrated to convey gentle sadness rather than raging fury.
"My focus," she said, her voice clear and carrying a haunting, melodic quality that made the crowd still to hear it, "is on supporting my fiancée and the Blackwood family. Their stability has been a great comfort." She glanced at Kaelen, and the look in her eyes was so convincingly tender that Kaelen's breath caught in her throat. It was a masterpiece of acting. A lie so beautiful it felt like truth.
The crowd ate it up. Cameras flashed furiously.
But Kaelen was close enough to see the absolute emptiness in Sera's eyes behind the performance. She saw the fine tremor in the hand that wasn't holding hers for the cameras. The -100% was still there, screaming silently behind the smile.
As they turned to leave, Kaelen's own mask slipped. Overwhelmed by the grotesque spectacle, by Sera's devastating performance, and by her own complicity, she did something stupid.
As the flashbulbs popped, she leaned slightly towards Sera, a gesture meant to look protective for the cameras. But her movement was too abrupt, too uncalculated. Her hand, meant to rest on the small of Sera's back, brushed lower, too familiar. Her Dominion heightened scent flared, a possessive, aggressive cloud.
Sera's perfect composure shattered for a microsecond. She flinched. A tiny, almost imperceptible recoil. Her scent spiked with pure, undiluted panic before she brutally clamped down on it, the actress's mask slamming back into place.
But it was enough. The cameras saw a loving Alpha drawing her Omega close. Kaelen knew the truth: she had triggered the other woman's trauma, reminding her of the violence of the night before.
Significant Inconsistency Detected: Public display conflicts with private hostility. Target distress increased.
The punishment was immediate and private. A vicious, electric cramp seized the muscles of her calf, so intense she nearly cried out. Her step faltered. She stumbled, catching herself on the doorframe of the returning elevator, her face contorted in a grimace of pain that the cameras likely interpreted as a smirk of satisfaction.
The elevator doors closed, cutting off the noise and the lights. The moment they were alone in the sterile, silent box, the act dropped. Sera wrenched her arm away from Kaelen's grasp, stumbling back against the wall, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. The look she gave Kaelen wasn't just hatred. It was revulsion.
Kaelen leaned against the opposite wall, rubbing her aching calf, the System's message burning in her eyes. She had tried to play her part, to maintain the facade. And all she had done was make everything worse.
The elevator rose, carrying them back to their gilded cage. The performance was over. The aftermath was just beginning.