The morning in Serelis began with a dull grayness, clouds thickening the sky as if the heavens themselves mirrored her exhaustion. Lilith woke with a splitting headache, the kind that made her temples throb with every faint sound. She sat up slowly, pressing her fingers to her forehead. Her body still ached, and beneath the sheets her limbs felt leaden, bruised from battles she wished she could erase from memory.
Ivy Stone bustled into the room with her usual brightness, carrying a tray with tea and a croissant. "You look like death warmed over," she teased, trying to mask her concern with humor. She placed the tray on the side table and sat beside Lilith, brushing a strand of hair from her friend's pale face.
Lilith forced a smile, fragile and unconvincing. "I'm fine," she whispered.
"No, you're not," Ivy pressed. "Something's wrong. You're quieter than usual. Talk to me."
But Lilith shook her head, eyes downcast. Her throat tightened with truths she couldn't spill, not yet. How could she tell Ivy about the man with the piercing eyes, the cruel strength, the night that had rewritten her body's innocence? Instead, she forced herself to stand, wincing at the stiffness in her legs. "I just need to finish some errands."
By late morning, she arrived at St. Aurelius Private Hospital, the discreet facility where she had arranged to transfer her mother. The transfer process was merciless, not just emotionally but financially. Paperwork piled up, signatures demanded, and with every form signed, Lilith felt herself slipping further into despair. When the final invoice was placed before her, the numbers swam in her vision: everything she had left, gone in a single transaction.
Her hand trembled as she slid her card across the counter. With a faint beep, her account emptied — years of savings vanished into the hospital's coffers. A numbness spread through her chest, hollow and heavy.
Walking out of the hospital, the air felt thin, as though Serelis itself conspired to suffocate her. The world bustled — taxis honked, street vendors cried their wares, businessmen rushed past in sharp suits. She moved among them like a ghost, carrying invisible wounds.
Her steps led her to a small pharmacy tucked into a quiet corner of the district. The sterile scent of antiseptic hit her as she stepped inside. Her fingers tightened on the strap of her bag. She approached the counter and, with a low, almost embarrassed voice, asked for the morning-after pill.
The pharmacist handed it to her without comment, but the weight of it in her palm felt heavier than stone. She remembered Rhett's words — From now on, you are mine — and her stomach twisted violently. She did not even know his name. He was a shadow that had invaded her life, a stranger whose claim over her body seared like a brand.
Clutching the packet, she turned to leave, but froze.
A piercing sensation struck her heart, sharp as a blade. It felt as though someone was watching her, their gaze slicing through the back of her neck. Her breath caught, her pulse quickened. Slowly, she turned, scanning the shelves, the corners, the glass window reflecting the street outside. Nothing. Just the faint hum of the refrigerator storing medicines, the quiet shuffle of a customer buying cough syrup.
She exhaled shakily, forcing her pounding heart to calm. She swallowed the pill with bottled water, her hands trembling as she shoved the wrapper deep into her bag. Without looking back, she walked out, her steps quicker than before, her chest tight with unease.
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On the other side of Serelis, in a high-rise building overlooking the city, the air was charged with tension. The headquarters of the Barone Group was a fortress of power, sleek glass walls and cold steel dominating the skyline. Inside, silence ruled — broken only when Rhett Barone's voice sliced through it.
"What did you just say?" His tone was dangerously calm, the kind that made grown men tremble.
His assistant, Steve, swallowed hard, holding a tablet in his hands. "We… we intercepted word from the pharmacy chains. Miss Steele purchased and ingested an emergency contraceptive this morning."
The tablet slipped from Steve's trembling fingers as Rhett rose from behind his desk. The CEO's presence was terrifying — broad shoulders wrapped in a tailored suit, his eyes like frozen obsidian. He moved with a predator's grace, controlled but brimming with restrained violence.
"She dared," Rhett murmured, almost to himself. The words were soft, but the undercurrent of wrath in them made Steve's blood run cold.
For Rhett, the thought was unbearable. He had marked her, branded her, filled her — and now she had attempted to erase his claim. The audacity of it burned through his veins. He clenched his fists, veins rising against his skin.
Steve dared to speak again. "Sir… she doesn't know it was you. Perhaps—"
"Silence," Rhett snapped, his eyes narrowing dangerously. He turned to the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring out at the glittering cityscape. "She may not know now. But she will. She belongs to me. And no pill in the world can change that."
The office chilled with the weight of his obsession. His gaze softened for only a moment as he reached into his pocket, drawing out the small photograph of Lilith Steele he kept hidden there. His thumb brushed against the image, reverent and possessive.
"She thinks she can run from me," Rhett whispered, his voice low, almost tender. "But every step she takes only pulls her closer."
Behind him, the staff exchanged fearful glances but said nothing. In Rhett Barone's world, there was no questioning his will.
And in Serelis, whether Lilith knew it yet or not, her fate was already entangled with his.
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