SERAPHINE POV
The iron gates of the Aldric mansion swing open like the jaws of a monster.
I grip my suitcase handle so hard my knuckles turn white. The car that picked me up this morning—sleek, black, silent—disappears down the driveway, leaving me alone.
Two years. I've been gone two years.
The mansion looks exactly the same. Cold. Perfect. Like a museum, not a home.
I walk up the stone steps, each one feeling heavier than the last. My hand reaches for the front door, but it swings open before I can touch it.
A maid I don't recognize steps aside without speaking.
That's when I hear it.
Crying.
Loud, messy sobbing coming from the living room.
I drop my suitcase and run toward the sound. Maybe Father had a heart attack. Maybe Mother's sick. Maybe—
I freeze in the doorway.
A girl sits on the white couch, crying into her hands. She has sleek black hair and sharp features. I've never seen her before in my life.
My parents stand near the fireplace like statues. Father's face could be carved from stone. Mother won't look at me.
Papers are scattered across the coffee table. Official-looking documents with red seals.
"What's going on?" My voice comes out small, scared.
The crying stops.
The strange girl's head snaps up. Her green eyes lock onto mine, and the look in them makes me step back.
Pure hatred.
"What's going ON?" she spits, standing up. "What's going on is that I'M going on. I'm Octavia Lowe. The REAL Aldric daughter."
The world tilts sideways.
"What?" I look at my parents—at the people who raised me. "What is she talking about?"
Mother finally meets my eyes. Her face is empty of emotion. "Twenty-seven years ago, there was a mistake at the hospital."
No.
"You and Octavia were born on the same night. Same hospital. Same time." Mother's voice is cold, mechanical, like she's reading from a script. "There was a mix-up. The babies were swapped."
"That's impossible," I whisper.
Father picks up papers from the table and holds them out. "DNA tests confirm it. We ran three separate tests. All came back the same."
I can't move. Can't breathe.
"You're not our daughter, Seraphine." Mother says it like she's commenting on the weather. "You never were."
The floor drops out from under me.
Twenty-seven years. My entire life. Every memory. Every birthday. Every time I called them Mom and Dad. Every moment I tried desperately to make them proud, to make them love me.
A lie.
"No." I shake my head. "This is a mistake. Another fake test like before—"
"Before?" Octavia's voice is sharp. "You knew? You knew you weren't really theirs?"
"I didn't—that was different—" I'm babbling, not making sense.
Octavia laughs, bitter and cruel. "Of course you didn't know. You were too busy living MY life. Sleeping in MY bedroom. Spending MY money. Being loved by MY parents."
"They never loved me," I say before I can stop myself.
Silence falls like a hammer.
Mother's jaw tightens. Father looks away.
Because it's true. And we all know it.
"Well, now we know why," Octavia says, her smile vicious. "You weren't theirs. You were nothing. You ARE nothing."
Each word is a knife.
"Octavia," Father warns, but there's no real authority in his voice.
"I want her OUT," Octavia continues, pointing at me like I'm garbage to be removed. "I want my room. My life. Everything she STOLE from me."
"I didn't steal anything!" My voice breaks. "I was a BABY!"
"And now you're an adult who needs to leave." Mother's tone is final. "We'll provide a settlement. Two million dollars. In exchange, you sign away all rights to the Aldric name, inheritance, and properties."
Two million dollars.
Like that's supposed to make up for twenty-seven years of being the wrong daughter.
"Where am I supposed to go?" I ask, hating how small I sound.
"That's not our concern anymore." Father won't meet my eyes.
Not our concern.
I'm not their concern.
I never was.
"You have one week to collect your belongings and vacate the premises," Mother continues. "After that, security will remove you."
One week.
They're throwing me away like trash.
My chest feels like it's caving in. I can't breathe. Can't think.
"This is insane," I gasp. "You raised me. You—"
"We raised the wrong child," Mother interrupts. "An unfortunate mistake that we're now correcting."
Unfortunate mistake.
That's what I am.
Octavia sits back down on the couch, looking satisfied. Like she's won some great victory.
Maybe she has.
I turn to run—anywhere, I don't care—but I slam into someone standing in the doorway.
Strong hands catch my arms, steadying me.
I look up.
Theron.
He's watching me with those storm-blue eyes, and I can't read his expression.
"Let me go," I whisper.
Instead, he pulls me closer, his voice low enough that only I can hear. "Come with me. Now."
"I need to leave—"
"Seraphine." The way he says my name stops me cold. "Do you trust me?"
"No."
His smile is sad. "Smart girl. But come anyway."
He guides me out of the living room, his hand firm on my back. We walk past my suitcase, past the maid, out a side door into the garden.
The moment we're alone, I shove him away.
"Did you KNOW?" I demand. "Is that what you meant two years ago? About secrets?"
He doesn't deny it.
My hands ball into fists. "How long have you known?"
"Six months." He runs a hand through his dark hair. "Father ordered DNA tests. When the results came back, he called a family meeting. Everyone knew except you."
Everyone knew.
For SIX MONTHS.
"Why didn't you tell me?" My voice cracks.
"Because I was trying to figure out how to fix it." He steps closer. "How to make sure you weren't thrown away like garbage."
"Well, you failed!"
"Did I?" His eyes burn into mine. "Seraphine, do you know what this means?"
"It means I'm not an Aldric! It means I don't belong anywhere!"
"No." He grabs my shoulders. "It means you're not my sister."
The words hang in the air between us.
"You're not my sister," he repeats, and something wild flashes in his eyes. "You never were. There's no blood relation. No legal relation. Nothing stopping us—"
I shove him hard. "Are you INSANE? My entire life just exploded and you're thinking about—"
"I'm thinking about saving you." His voice is intense. "Stay. Work for me at the company. Let me protect you."
"Protect me? You KNEW for six months and said nothing!"
"Because I was buying time! Making sure you couldn't be erased!" He pulls papers from his jacket. "I've been transferring assets. Building a legal case. You were raised as an Aldric—you have rights whether they like it or not."
I stare at the papers, not understanding.
"But there's an easier way," he says quietly. "A way they can't touch you. A way to keep everything."
"What way?"
His hand cups my cheek. The touch burns.
"Marry me."
My brain short-circuits. "WHAT?"
"Marry me," he repeats. "If you're my wife, they can't throw you out. Can't cut you off. You'd have legal protection. Full access to everything."
"You're proposing a FAKE marriage?"
His thumb brushes my lip. "Who said anything about fake?"
I jerk away from his touch. "You're crazy. I'm not—"
"Think about it." His voice drops. "Where else will you go? Back to London? I already proved I can destroy that life with a phone call. Your boyfriend's firm, your job, your apartment—I can take it all away."
"You're threatening me?"
"I'm showing you your options." He steps closer, backing me against the garden wall. "Option one: sign their papers, take the money, and spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder, wondering when I'll show up. Option two: marry me, stay in the family, and let me give you everything you deserve."
My heart pounds. "Why would you do this?"
His smile is dark. "Because I've wanted you since you were sixteen years old. And now there's no sin stopping me from having you."
Before I can respond, his phone buzzes.
He glances at it, and his expression changes. "We have a bigger problem."
"Bigger than this?"
He shows me his phone.
It's a message with a photo attached.
The photo shows a woman—middle-aged, tired-looking, standing outside a run-down apartment building.
The message reads: "Your biological mother. Iris Lowe. She wants to meet you. Tonight. Come alone, or I tell her you're refusing contact. — Octavia"
I stare at the photo.
My real mother.
The woman who gave birth to me.
Who maybe sold me.
Who might be the only family I actually have left.
"It's a trap," Theron says.
"I don't care." I look up at him. "I need to know the truth."
His jaw tightens. "Then I'm coming with you."
"No."
"Seraphine—"
"NO." I grab his phone and forward the message to myself. "You've controlled enough of my life. This is MY choice."
I walk away before he can stop me.
Behind me, he calls out: "If you go alone, you won't like what you find!"
I don't look back.