"Lady Serena has once again refused all visitors today."
The elderly butler's voice was a low, solemn murmur that cut through the stifling atmosphere of the estate's grand hall. He held the morning logs with trembling hands, his face lined with deep, unyielding worry as the rest of the senior household staff stood behind him in grim solidarity. The sprawling manor, once alive with the complex politics of high society, had transformed overnight into an impenetrable fortress of grief.
"At present, aside from the staff who are required to enter once a day, it appears she is refusing all contact with anyone."
Behind the towering, carved oak doors of her private chambers, a heavy, suffocating silence reigned. The morning sun crept through the sheer curtains, casting a cold, pale blue light across a pristine, untouched bed. Serena had isolated herself entirely from the world, retreating into a state of profound withdrawal where no words could reach her.
"She is barely eating as well, so her physical condition is our greatest concern."
The untouched silver trays returned to the kitchens day after day, bearing cold tea and dried meals. Her willful starvation wasn't born out of a desire for death, but rather a complete detachment from life itself.
"Lord Eiser is prohibited from visiting the detention cell, and even we have not been granted permission to see her."
The butler turned toward the head of the long table, delivering the bitter reality of their legal deadlock. The lines of communication had been thoroughly severed, leaving them entirely in the dark regarding the inner workings of the high court's confinement protocols.
"We requested the royal physicians, but we've been told she has firmly refused their treatment as well."
"..."
Eiser sat at the head of the table, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his expression masked in a terrifyingly calm stillness. Clad in a sharp, tailored black suit with a muted grey vest, his fiery, calculating gaze fixed onto a single point in space. Outwardly, he was the picture of unyielding composure, but the slight tightening of his jaw betrayed the violent storm brewing beneath the surface. He was a man accustomed to pulling the strings from the shadows, yet he was now forced to face a crisis where his tactical brilliance was utterly useless against a woman's complete emotional surrender.
"The problem is that the trial is fast approaching," the family's chief legal adviser cut in, pushing his glasses up his nose as he scanned the documents in front of him. His tone was laced with professional urgency. "Since this is a special trial, it cannot begin unless Lady Serena makes the required declaration. In her current state, there's no guarantee it can even proceed."
The room grew colder as the strategic reality settled in.
"There is one person who can exercise that authority on her behalf... But under the current circumstances, we can't expect that to happen."
A collective, somber glance shifted toward the portrait of the matriarch, currently bedridden and slipping away in a frail, comatose slumber. The grand, old authority that had once protected the family name was completely incapacitated, unable to sign the decrees or offer the legal shield they so desperately needed.
"It will also be difficult to postpone the trial, because the Prime Minister's side is highly unlikely to agree."
The advisor turned the page, his knuckles whitening against the parchment.
"In fact, they're probably hoping the trial falls through. Ending things as they are now would benefit them the most. Even if the trial is delayed, it would only give them more time to turn the situation in their favor."
The political sharks had smelled blood in the water. The opposition didn't just want a conviction; they wanted to weaponize the family's silence to dismantle their entire legacy while Serena remained broken in her cell.
The advisor raised his eyes from the documents, meeting Eiser's unblinking, intense stare.
"The situation is not looking good. If Lady Serena cannot appear at this trial, we'll be placed at a serious disadvantage..." He paused, his voice dropping an octave under the sheer weight of the impending collapse. "...Lord Eiser."
The butler's words hung heavily in the air, shifting the atmospheric pressure within the grand briefing room.
"...Lord Eiser," the legal advisor reiterated, adjusting his glasses as the silence stretched thin. "May I ask why Lady Serena suddenly changed her mind?"
Eiser remained perfectly motionless, his arms crossed over his chest. His intense, dark gaze didn't waver from the intricate wood grain of the long mahogany table. He offered no immediate answer, allowing the suffocating weight of the question to settle over the entire assembly of legal experts and senior staff.
"She was fully committed to the trial until just recently..." the advisor continued, his voice laced with genuine perplexity. "At this point, all witnesses and testimony have been secured, and we've completed every possible preparation for the trial. We'll remain ready and wait. Please... let everything proceed without any setbacks."
Recognizing the dismissal implied by Eiser's unyielding silence, the advisor offered a profound, formal bow. The rest of the legal team quietly gathered their documents, the soft rustling of parchment the only sound as they shuffled out of the grand study, leaving the master of the house to his thoughts.
The moment the heavy double doors clicked shut, the carefully maintained facade of the cold, calculating Lord Eiser shattered.
Thud!
A fist slammed down onto the polished surface of the desk with enough raw force to make the silver inkwells rattle.
"Damn it."
Eiser ran a tense hand through his hair, a harsh, ragged breath escaping his lips. The absolute control he prided himself on was slipping through his fingers like sand.
"This couldn't have happened at a worse time. Ha..."
He leaned forward, resting his forehead against his knuckles as a bitter laugh cut through the empty room. Everything-every bribe, every forged document, every secured ally, and every shred of legal leverage-had been perfectly aligned. They were on the precipice of absolute victory, a meticulous chess game meant to completely dismantle the Prime Minister's offensive.
Yet, all of it was contingent on one single, unpredictable variable: Serena.
And now, she had completely withdrawn from the board.
As the initial wave of fury receded, it left behind a cold, hollow realization. Eiser stared blankly out the towering windows, the memory of a recent, devastating conversation flooding his mind.
If everything Dia said back then was true...
The image of Serena flashed vividly before his eyes-not the proud, sharp-tongued heiress who traded barbs with him in the corridors of power, but the pale, ghost-like woman currently sitting in absolute isolation.
Dia's frantic, tear-stained confessions had laid bare a truth Eiser had failed to calculate. Serena's sudden, total surrender wasn't a tactical retreat, nor was it a simple bout of depression. It was the complete collapse of a soul under a weight she had carried entirely alone. She hadn't just abandoned the trial; she had abandoned the very desire to fight for her own existence.
For the first time in his life, Eiser didn't have a counter-strategy. He was left staring at a crumbling fortress, realizing that the greatest threat to their survival wasn't the enemies at their gates, but the profound despair locked deep inside his own wife's heart.
Here is the continued novel expansion, written from the author's third-person omniscient perspective, seamlessly integrating the new revelations, the high-stakes political leverage, and the internal turmoil shown in the images.
The study felt colder now, the silence populated only by the ghosts of secrets long buried. On the corner of the heavy oak desk lay a delicate, pink notebook adorned with the gilded silhouette of a dancing ballerina-and the name Lise elegantly scripted across its cover. It was a shattering piece of evidence, a fragile artifact holding a truth far too heavy for its worn pages.
Serena had frozen entirely. The vibrant, stubborn woman who had finally begun the agonizing process of facing her past, overcoming her deepest traumas, and learning to stand on her own two feet had suddenly vanished. In her place was a hollow shell, paralyzed by a devastating realization.
If the tragedy her past self believed was merely an accident had actually been deliberately caused by someone-and worse, if that perpetrator was someone she knew, trusted, or loved-then the foundation of her world had just completely dissolved. There was no way the Serena of today could easily endure such a betrayal. The shock had broken something vital inside her, halting her momentum entirely. She had stopped everything. And in this dark, psychological labyrinth, Eiser knew with absolute certainty: no one else could solve this for her anymore. She had to find the will to survive it herself.
While Serena fought a silent war against her own mind, the grand machinery of their legal and political counter-offensive was already spinning out of control.
Across the city, high-society allies like Chairman Herald and his powerful faction had worked tirelessly, exhausting immense resources and political capital to ensure this trial would happen. The trap was perfectly set. The Prime Minister had backed himself into a corner; regardless of whatever intricate manipulations Victor had attempted behind the scenes, the high official was now trapped by his own hubris.
Victor's egregious crime-the unlawful imprisonment of Serena within the depths of the underground prison-had now become the Prime Minister's direct, inescapable responsibility. The legal leverage was absolute. If the Prime Minister lost this trial, his reputation would be utterly ruined, leaving him with absolutely no choice but to step down from office in disgrace.
Standing before a massive cabinet filled with rows of identical, ornate green glass bottles, Eiser stared at the emerald liquid catching the dim light of the study. He reached out, his fingers wrapping around the gold-embellished neck of a bottle, before steadily pouring the vibrant green fluid into a hexagonal glass.
The glowing liquid swirled, casting sickly green ripples across the stone countertop. Eiser watched the movement, his profile cast in sharp, brooding shadows against the warm glow of the room's lamps.
The strategy was flawless on paper, a checkmate waiting to be executed. But the political reality was terrifyingly simple: if Serena could not stand in court for any reason-if her mind remained shattered, or if she refused to testify-the entire case would collapse. Without its key witness, the situation would instantly become even worse than before. The weapon they built to destroy their enemies would backfire completely, burying them all beneath the rubble of the Prime Minister's wrath.
Eiser lifted the glass, his eyes dark with an unreadable storm. The trial was coming, the enemy was cornered, but the most critical battle was still the one taking place behind Serena's closed doors.
The crystal glass felt heavy in Eiser's hand, the amber tint of the liquor doing little to warm the icy coldness settling in his chest. The calculated game he had been playing with absolute precision was slipping away, millimeter by millimeter.
That's why he'll seize this opportunity no matter what, Eiser thought, his jaw tightening as he stared blankly ahead. Serena has already broken down.
The image of her flashed vividly in his mind-pale, fragile, and utterly defeated, buried beneath a torrent of long-repressed trauma. She had completely shattered under the weight of the truth. If the high-stakes trial they had fought so hard to orchestrate were to be canceled or derailed now, the consequences would be catastrophic. Without the legal shield of the court proceedings, Serena would remain imprisoned indefinitely, trapped in a relentless limbo until the next agonizing round of political negotiations could be brokered.
Eiser closed his eyes briefly, feeling the walls closing in. ...What should I do? The internal admission tasted bitterer than any poison. My best plan has fallen apart.
He opened his eyes, the striking blue cutting through the dimness of the study. The meticulous safety nets he had woven around Serena were unraveling. If the trial fell through completely, she wouldn't be safe anymore-not from the law, and certainly not from the enemies lurking in the shadows.
Before things get even worse, he reasoned, his grip tightening around the hexagonal glass, I'll have to settle for the second-best option.
It was a dangerous pivot, one that involved a calculated gamble with the highest office in the land. The memory of the voice echoed in his mind-the disgruntled, raspy tone of the elderly, monocle-wearing mastermind who held immense leverage over the administration. "I don't like it one bit," the old man had grumbled, adjusting his spectacles in distaste, "but I'll persuade the Prime Minister."
Eiser set the glass down on the polished wooden table next to a uniquely shaped, gold-embellished bottle labeled Serenade. The liquid inside caught the ambient light, glowing like a deceptive promise of peace.
The heavy doors of the study creaked open, breaking the stifling silence. A loyal aide stepped into the grand, high-ceilinged room, his footsteps muffled by the ornate rugs.
"Lord Eiser, you called for me?" the aide asked respectfully, stopping a few paces back.
Eiser didn't turn around immediately. He stood silhouetted against the massive, arched Gothic windows, looking out into the twilight that swallowed the estate's sprawling grounds.
"..."
Silence stretched between them, heavy with the unsaid threats of the coming dawn. The plan had changed, the stakes had doubled, and Eiser was fully prepared to burn down the political landscape to keep Serena safe.
The silence in the grand study was so thick it was suffocating. Eiser stood by the massive, arched window, his profile etched in the fading twilight. His breathing was shallow, his posture taut as a wire about to snap.
"Lord Eiser..."
The aide's voice barely penetrated the fog of Eiser's thoughts. He didn't move. He couldn't. Inside, a storm was raging, tearing through the cold, calculated logic he usually prided himself on. The safety nets were gone. The trial was falling apart. Serena was broken.
"Are you alright?" the aide asked, his voice tinged with a rare, genuine concern.
Eiser finally let out a breath, a ragged sound that felt more like a gasp than an exhalation. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force down the rising panic, trying to find the anchor that always kept him grounded. But when he opened them, the world remained just as fractured.
The aide stepped closer, catching a glimpse of Eiser's face as he turned slightly toward the light. The man stopped in his tracks, a silent breath catching in his throat.
The blood vessels in his eyes...
They were completely bloodshot, a map of raw exhaustion and sheer desperation mapped out against the striking, icy blue of his irises. Eiser looked like a man who hadn't slept in days, a man standing on the absolute precipice of a breakdown. The cold, unshakeable master strategist was bleeding out from the inside.
"Contact Dustin," Eiser commanded, his voice surprisingly steady despite the wreckage in his eyes. He turned his head further, looking directly at the aide now, the shadows of the room doing little to hide his grim resolve. "Tell him I have something to discuss, and ask him to meet me."
The second-best option was officially in motion. There was no turning back.
Miles away from the tense atmosphere of Eiser's estate, the grand, high-ceilinged corridors of the medical wing felt stark and clinical. The pristine checkered floors reflected the soft light filtering through the high arches.
At the security checkpoint, a guard in a dark, structured uniform looked up from his desk as two figures approached.
"Good day, Mrs. Meses," the guard said politely, nodding to the older woman. "Thank you for your hard work today."
"And who's behind you?" he added, his eyes drifting to the younger woman standing just a step behind her.
"Hello, Roy," Mrs. Meses replied smoothly, her expression perfectly composed. "This is Julian, the new nurse who'll be assisting with today's examination."
The young woman-'Julian'-stood quietly, keeping her gaze appropriately lowered. She held a heavy, white medical case with gold embellishments securely in her hands. The golden insignia on the front gleamed under the hallway lights, looking every bit the part of official, high-grade medical equipment.
Roy glanced at the case, then back at the familiar face of the head nurse. Finding no reason to doubt her, he gestured toward the secure inner wing. "Ah, yes. Please go on in."
Once they crossed the threshold and walked past the heavy wooden doors into the quieter, more secluded corridor of the private quarters, the heavy tension between the two women finally broke. Mrs. Meses slowed her pace, turning slightly to speak in a hushed, urgent tone.
"Thank you for agreeing to this difficult favor, Mrs. Meses," the younger woman whispered, her voice laced with deep gratitude.
Mrs. Meses sighed, her expression hardening with genuine worry as she looked down the long hallway toward a specific set of doors. "I only agreed because you said you'd make sure she took her medicine. Since you said you know Lady Serena..."
She paused, the weight of the past few weeks etching deep lines into her face.
"Whenever we approach her, she refuses us so harshly that we can barely even speak to her, let alone persuade her to take her medicine or receive treatment," Mrs. Meses admitted, her voice dropping lower. She looked at the young woman, an unspoken plea in her eyes. "Please make sure she takes her medicine, and convince her to let us examine her."
She looked away, her shoulders dropping slightly under the weight of the grim reality. "She's barely hanging on as it is. If she refuses the medicine again today, she'll truly be in danger."
The young woman gripped the handle of the medical case a fraction tighter, her resolve solidifying. She looked up, meeting the head nurse's worried gaze with absolute seriousness.
"Yes," she promised softly. "I'll do my best."
(diah came as a nurse to speak with serena)
The heavy wooden door clicked shut behind the young woman, sealing her inside the cavernous, quiet expanse of the private quarters. For a brief second, she stood frozen, letting her eyes adjust to the dimness of the room.
"...Miss Serena?" she called out, her voice barely louder than a whisper, testing the heavy silence.
No one answered. The sprawling bed was empty, the fine white sheets neatly pressed but utterly vacant. The air felt cold, charged with a strange, stagnant stillness.
Where is she... the washroom?
Before the thought could fully form, a sharp, violent CRASH shattered the quiet. The unmistakable sound of breaking glass echoed out from the adjoining room, followed by the dull thud of something heavy hitting the tiled floor.
The young woman's heart leaped into her throat. "Miss Serena!"
She flung open the washroom door, and the breath caught in her throat.
Serena was leaning heavily against the marble vanity, her pale knuckles white as she gripped the edges of the porcelain sink for support. A broken glass vase lay shattered at her bare feet, its shards glistening dangerously amidst spilled water and trampled white lilies. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her back in wild, tangled waves, contrasting sharply with the stark white of her thin nightgown.
She was trembling violently, her breathing ragged and shallow as she stared blindly into the mirror.
"Ah...! Oh my goodness!" the young woman gasped, rushing forward, her eyes darting to the floor. "Miss Serena, are you alright?!"
Serena's head snapped back. Her eyes, wide and completely bloodshot, fixed onto the intruder with a ferocity that was terrifying. The sheer exhaustion on her face did nothing to dull the sharp, venomous glare she directed at the disguised nurse.
"You..." Serena hissed, her voice raspy, laced with raw malice.
"Don't try to move by yourself," the young woman pleaded, extending a hand cautiously, trying to keep her voice soothing despite the panic threatening to take over. "Slowly com-!"
"Why are you standing in front of me?!" Serena screamed, her voice cracking under the weight of her rage. She barred her teeth, a cornered animal refusing to be touched, refusing to be pitied.
The fragility Mrs. Meses had warned her about was entirely real, but so was the terrifying, indomitable wall Serena had built around herself. She was drowning, yet she was ready to tear apart anyone who dared try to pull her out.
"I knew you were shameless," Serena spat, her voice sharp enough to slice through the heavy tension in the room. Her hands gripped the marble vanity so hard her knuckles turned entirely bloodless. "But I didn't think you were completely without a conscience."
The young woman disguised as a nurse froze, her extended hand hovering in the empty air between them. The gentle, professional mask she wore didn't falter, but beneath it, the silence grew suffocating.
"Stealing and reading Lise's diary wasn't enough," Serena continued, her breathing erratic, each breath a ragged gasp of fury. She stepped forward, ignoring the sharp bite of the shattered vase beneath her bare feet. "And after tormenting me like this with it, what exactly do you want now?"
She didn't wait for an answer. The venom that had been boiling inside her for weeks finally found its outlet.
"I'm furious that you've been watching me all this time, and that you've been tormenting Friedrich with your threats whenever he tried to stop you." Serena's eyes burned, wide and unblinking, reflecting a mix of profound disgust and blinding rage. "I was already angry and disgusted when I first found out what you'd done..."
She gestured weakly toward the running water of the sink behind her, its steady, gentle flow mocking the storm inside the room.
"But now that I know the whole truth, it feels even more revolting. Do you understand? You used Sister's death, my relationship with her, and even Lise's past with me to corner Friedrich until the very end."
The nurse remained standing, a chillingly calm figure in her crisp, white uniform. Her head dipped slightly, the shadow of her cap obscuring her expression, but she didn't offer a single word of denial. Her silence was a confession in itself.
A single tear, heavy and hot, finally broke free and tracked down Serena's pale cheek.
"And in the end, you dragged me into it too," Serena whispered, the anger momentarily buckling under the crushing weight of betrayal. "How can anyone deliberately pick at another person's deepest wounds, and pour poison into them just to make sure they never heal?"
Through the haze of her tears, a memory flashed vividly in Serena's mind-a memory of a woman with perfectly styled blonde hair, wearing a brilliant, glittering black evening gown, adjusting a diamond earring with an effortless, radiant smile. A woman she had trusted.
"You smiled as if you were my friend," Serena cried out, her voice breaking completely as the tears fell freely now, splashing onto the cold floor. "But all along, you wanted Eiser and me to break up... you wanted my family to fall."
"But all along, you wanted Eiser and me to break up," Serena wept, her voice trembling under the sheer weight of a betrayal that cut straight to the bone. "You wanted my family to fall."
Diah stood entirely motionless, a stark silhouette against the ornate, sunlit walls of the dressing room. Her white disguise remained pristine, unruffled by the emotional tempest tearing through the woman in front of her.
"And you even wanted me to die," Serena choked out. The tears spilled freely now, leaving hot, glistening tracks down her pale, grief-stricken face.
The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the sound of Serena's ragged breathing. Diah didn't flinch. She didn't offer an excuse, a plea for forgiveness, or a standard defense. Her lips simply pressed into a thin, unreadable line.
Slowly, Diah raised her arm, extending her hand toward Serena. It was a gesture meant to mimic comfort-a cold, clinical imitation of care.
"So how can someone like you stand before me and reach out your hand?" Serena's eyes flashed with sudden, white-hot fury as she backed away. "Do you really think you have the right to do that?!"
Serena staggered backward, her bare heels bringing her dangerously close to the sharp remnants of the shattered vase littering the floor. "Ha... enough," she gasped, her hands shaking violently. "I don't want to hear any more. Get out right now."
A low, warning hiss vibrated in her throat. "Before I scream for someone to throw you out."
For a long moment, Diah simply stared at Serena. The dim light cast a chilling shadow over the upper half of her face, obscuring her eyes, but the cold rigidity of her jawline spoke volumes. The submissive, gentle posture of a mere nurse evaporated in an instant.
Instead of turning to leave, Diah's expression shifted. Her gaze hardened into something sharp, calculated, and predatory.
Without a single word, she took a decisive, heavy step forward. Her sensible shoes crunched directly over the scattered shards of porcelain on the floor, ignoring the danger entirely.
Step.
She closed the distance between them with terrifying speed.
Before Serena could draw a breath to scream, Diah lunged. Her hand shot forward, bypassing the air between them, and clamped down with brutal, unforgiving force onto Serena's bare forearm. Her fingers dug deep into the soft flesh, locking like an iron vice.
"What are you doing?!" Serena shrieked, her voice cracking in a mixture of pain and sudden terror as she was violently yanked forward. "Let go!"
But Diah only gripped tighter, her gaze locking onto Serena with a terrifying, silent malice that proved she had absolutely no intention of leaving quietly.
"Let go!!" Serena screamed, her voice cracking under the sudden restriction. She pulled back with all the weight of her fragile frame, her long, dark hair violently whipping around her shoulders.
But the iron grip around her forearm didn't give an inch. Diah merely adjusted her footing among the shattered glass, her composure utterly unshaken by Serena's desperate struggling.
"Then scream," Diah countered, her voice dangerously calm, a low purr that chilled the air between them. Her amber eyes locked onto Serena's panicked gaze, devoid of a single shred of mercy. "Tell them there's an intruder and have them drag me away. But you can't, can you?"
Serena's breath hitched, a faint rasp escaping her throat. She tried to twist her arm out of the vice-like hold, but her body refused to cooperate.
"Your feet are covered in wounds," Diah continued, her eyes dropping down to the blood staining the white marble tiles, "and you can't even stand properly without something to lean on."
Diah leaned in closer, capitalizing on the physical leverage she held over the trembling heiress. Every word was sharp, calculated, and designed to dismantle whatever remained of Serena's resolve.
"You don't even have the strength to shake me off," Diah whispered mockingly, "and you're already out of breath and staggering after saying only a few words to me. Do you really think you can do it?"
Serena stared at her adversary, her chest heaving as panic warred with absolute disgust. "Haa... Are you insane? What exactly are you trying to-"
"Go ahead, if you can," Diah interrupted, her voice slicing through Serena's protests. "Scream loud enough for everyone outside to hear."
When Serena could only offer a breathless gasp of despair, Diah let out a dry, mirthless chuckle. The false modesty she had carried as a nurse was entirely gone, replaced by the cold, calculating strategist who had pull the strings from the dark.
"Yeah, I am shameless and I'm a terrible person," Diah admitted freely, her head tilting slightly as she maintained her rigid grip on Serena's arm. "So what? It's not like you didn't already know that."
She looked down at Serena's bleeding feet, then back up to the raw, unfiltered agony written across the heiress's face. The vanity behind them stood as a silent witness to a breakdown perfectly engineered by those who wished to see the family fall.
"So what are you going to do now?" Diah challenged, her tone shifting from mockery to a stark, brutal command. "Throw away both the trial and your own life, crawl back into bed, hide under the covers and waste away just like before?"
Diah tightened her fingers just enough to force Serena to meet her gaze fully, ensuring the weight of reality crashed down upon her.
"That's exactly what Victor wants!" Diah hissed, the name dropping like a heavy anchor in the quiet room. "He wants you to break down like this so you can't stand in court."
Diah's eyes narrowed, flashing with a sudden, sharp intensity that stripped away any remaining pretense of servitude. "Why do you think he went out of his way to give you that diary?!" she demanded, her voice cutting through the heavy air of the dressing room like a blade.
Serena turned her head away sharply, her teeth grit against the swelling tide of her own vulnerability. The weight of the accusation hung between them, suffocating and inescapable. Yet, deep within the fractured pieces of her resolve, a stubborn ember ignited.
"...I've never given up!" Serena spat out, her voice trembling but fierce as she forced herself to look back. Her dark eyes, rimmed with the red traces of weeping, flared with a desperate defiance. "I'll appear at the trial, no matter what."
Diah let out a cold, humorless breath, her features hardening into an expression of absolute disdain. She leaned forward, forcing Serena to face the reflection in the grand, gilded mirror nearby.
"No one outside believes that," Diah countered ruthlessly, her words sharp and unsparing. "If you've got eyes, then look at yourself. You look like a walking corpse."
In the glass, the contrast between them was devastating. Serena stood frail, her pale skin translucent under the harsh light, her long hair spilling tangled over her bare shoulders. Behind her, Diah remained a rigid, imposing force in her pristine white uniform.
"Pull yourself together. Nothing will change if you stay like this," Diah commanded, her grip on Serena's arm tightening just enough to anchor the words. Her gaze reflected in the mirror was empty of pity, filled only with a cold, calculating urgency. "No, if you can't stand in court, you'll only end up suffering even more."
Diah turned Serena back around, her expression dropping into a grim, dark mask as she drove the final stakes home.
"You'll be handing Victor and the Prime Minister exactly what they want," she warned, her voice dropping into a low, venomous hiss. The urgency in her tone grew palpable, vibrating with the high stakes of a game rapidly reaching its endgame. "There's not much time left."
She stepped closer, invading Serena's space entirely, her amber eyes locking onto the heiress with a terrifying sharpness.
"If you're going to collapse, do it after the trial."
A dark smile tugged faintly at the corner of Diah's lips, a cruel spark igniting in her eyes as she leaned down toward Serena's ear. "And if you're still angry, then use that strength to come outside and slap the bastard you hate instead!"
Serena's breath caught, her chest heaving as the sheer brutality of Diah's words sank deep into her mind.
"So stop standing there like a corpse with its eyes open-" Diah ordered, her voice shifting back to a firm, commanding pull as she began to drag the trembling heiress forward.
"Come here now."
Tip's
THE SERENITY FAMILY DIVIDED ITS LEGAL ADVISORY TEAM INTO TWO BRANCHES, ONE FOR THE ESTATE AND ONE FOR THE HOTEL. THE ESTATE'S LEGAL TEAM HANDLED ASSETS, RIGHTS, INHERITANCE, AND MATTERS OF STATUS, WHILE THE HOTEL'S LEGAL TEAM OVERSAW BUSINESS OPERATIONS, CONTRACTS, AND EXTERNAL TRANSACTIONS.
THE CURRENT CHIEF LEGAL ADVISOR FOR THE ESTATE IS BRANDON MYLER,
WHILE MISHA KELLY SERVES AS - THE CHIEF LEGAL ADVISOR FOR THE HOTEL.
THE TWO OF THEM EACH POSSESS ONE OF THE ONLY TWO WATCHES ENGRAVED WITH BELLATIA SERENITY'S SIGNATURE.
팁
세레니티 가족은 법률 자문팀을 유산 담당과 호텔 담당, 두 부서로 나누었습니다. 유산 담당 법률팀은 자산, 권리, 상속 및 신분 문제를 처리했고, 호텔 담당 법률팀은 사업 운영, 계약 및 외부 거래를 감독했습니다.
현재 유산 담당 수석 법률 고문은 브랜든 마일러입니다.
미샤 켈리는 호텔 담당 수석 법률 고문으로 재직하고 있습니다
두 사람은 벨라티아 세레니티의 서명이 새겨진 단 두 개의 시계 중 하나씩을 소유하고 있습니다