The morning sun hit the marble floors of the Thorne mansion like a spotlight, but for Seraphina, the world still felt like a blurred dream. She woke up in a bed that was too large, wrapped in silk sheets that cost more than her father's car.
Beside her, the space was empty, but the pillow still carried the scent of sandalwood and cold rain.
A soft knock at the door startled her. A maid in a crisp uniform entered, carrying a tablet and a stack of designer shopping bags.
"Good morning, Madam. Mr. Thorne has already left for the office, but he left instructions. You are to be ready by ten. The car is waiting to take you to the hospital."
Seraphina's heart skipped a beat. "The hospital? Is my grandmother—"
"Mr. Thorne has already moved her to the Royal Suite at St. Mary's," the maid said with a polite bow. "He said you would want to see her before the press conference."
Seraphina looked at the tablet the maid set down. The headline on the North City Gazette made her breath catch in her throat:
"THE VIRGIN BRIDE'S REVENGE: ALEXANDER THORNE CLAIMS SCANDALOUS LIN HEIRESS."
There was a photo from the altar—Alexander's hand possessively on her waist, his eyes daring anyone to speak. Below it, the comments were a war zone. Some called her a gold-digger; others hailed her as a genius for snagging the King of the North.
St. Mary's Hospital - Private Wing
When the black SUV pulled up to the hospital, the entrance was swarmed with reporters. But they didn't get close. A wall of Thorne security guards cleared a path for Seraphina as if she were royalty.
Inside the Royal Suite, the air was quiet and smelled of expensive lilies. Her grandmother, Elena, lay in a high-tech bed, her breathing steady and peaceful for the first time in months.
But the peace was shattered by a sharp, familiar voice.
"You think you're so clever, don't you?"
Seraphina turned. Standing by the window were her father, Silas, and a red-eyed, furious Lydia.
"You humiliated us!" Lydia hissed, stepping toward Seraphina. "You ruined Tiffany's reputation and stole the Thorne connection for yourself. You're going to give us that contract, Seraphina. You're going to tell Alexander that the Lin family needs a seat on his board, or so help me—"
"Or what?"
The voice came from the doorway. It was cold, deep, and sent a shiver of both fear and relief down Seraphina's spine.
Alexander Thorne stood there, his hands in his pockets, his aura so oppressive that Lydia instinctively backed away. He walked into the room, his eyes never leaving Seraphina's.
"A-Alexander," Silas stammered, his face pale. "We were just... discussing family matters."
"The Lin family died for Seraphina the moment you tried to sell her to a drunkard," Alexander said. He stepped up behind Seraphina, his hand resting heavily on her shoulder. It was a gesture of ownership that made the air in the room feel thin.
He looked at Silas with pure disdain. "I've already bought your company's debt. As of nine o'clock this morning, I am your primary creditor. One more word to my wife, and I will foreclose on your villa by noon."
Lydia gasped, clutching her pearls. "You can't do that! We are her family!"
"You are nothing," Alexander snapped. He turned to Seraphina, his expression softening only a fraction. "Have you seen enough, Seraphina? Or do you want me to have them removed?"
Seraphina looked at her father—the man who would have let her grandmother die for a profit. She felt the warmth of Alexander's hand on her shoulder. She was timid, yes, but under his wing, she felt a spark of something new.
"Remove them," she said, her voice small but clear. "I only want to be with my grandmother."
Silas and Lydia were dragged out by security, their protests echoing down the hall.
Once they were gone, the room fell silent. Alexander didn't let go of her shoulder. He turned her around to face him.
"You did well," he murmured, his thumb brushing against her jawline. "But don't think this is charity, little bird. The world is watching us. Tonight is the Thorne Anniversary Gala. You will be by my side, and you will show them why I chose you."
He leaned down, his lips inches from hers. "And remember the contract. You belong to me. In every sense of the word."