Seraphina could only sigh in resignation as Calina and Giel presented a silk nightgown with a disconcertingly low neckline. The delicate fabric felt alien against her skin.
"Is there really nothing else to wear?" she asked, her voice flat.
Giel shot Calina a look demanding an explanation, but the helpless shrug on Calina's face told Seraphina all she needed to know. "I'm sorry, Miss. This was the most suitable piece available on such short notice."
"But... you look beautiful and utterly captivating in this, Miss Marsha. I'm certain Mr. Gabriel will be... fascinated," Calina said, attempting an encouraging smile. Giel nodded several times in forced agreement.
"Tomorrow, Calina and I will procure more appropriate sleepwear for you, Miss. For tonight, you are... encouraged to wear this," Giel squeaked out, clearly uncomfortable.
Seraphina simply closed her eyes, surrendering as Calina misted a heavy, floral perfume over her wrists and neck. The cloying scent filled the air. "Enough. I'm tired and wish to rest."
Suddenly, Calina's cheeks flushed a deep pink. "But, perhaps you cannot rest. At least not tonight, and—"
"Sst!" Giel hissed quietly, cutting her off. "If that is your wish, Miss Marsha, then rest well. Please call for us at any hour if you need anything." With a final, respectful bow, they retreated, leaving Seraphina alone in the opulent room.
She turned to face the full-length mirror, her reflection a vision of contrived allure. "This is a ridiculous garment," she muttered to herself. While Seraphina had donned provocative disguises for missions, she never enjoyed it, particularly when met with the lecherous gazes of her targets. For her, the most comfortable attire was practical and allowed for concealed weapons—tactical pants, long sleeves, layered jackets. Wearing such things here, however, was currently impossible.
Forget the clothes for now, she thought, her focus shifting. She walked to her still-unopened suitcase and lifted it onto the large bed. Clicking the latches open, her eyes glinted with a familiar, grim happiness. Her heart gave a steady, reassured beat seeing her favorite tools neatly arranged inside.
There was a full set of knives in various sizes, along with several firearms of different calibers. To Seraphina, these dangerous items were not merely for self-defense; they were fundamental necessities, extensions of herself she could not be parted from.
"I may have two people I can tentatively trust here," she whispered, running a finger along the cool edge of a throwing knife. "But of course, I prefer to rely on you." A thin, knowing smile touched her lips.
---
Outside the room, Giel closed the door with meticulous care and let out a long, heavy breath once they were in the hallway.
"Giel, did I say something wrong earlier?" Calina whispered, her brow furrowed. "The new Miss likely won't be sleeping tonight. You know, they're newlyweds. Surely Mr. Gabriel will spend their first night in her chambers. Right?"
Giel stopped walking abruptly, causing Calina to halt mid-step.
"Calina, first of all, I believe we must stop referring to her as 'Miss,'" Giel said, his voice low and serious.
Calina's forehead creased in confusion. "But why?"
Giel continued, "Remember, she is Mr. Gabriel's lawful wife. We should address her as Madam."
"I know, but Madam Evelyn will not be pleased with that."
Giel stared at the intricate pattern of the Persian runner beneath their feet, his breath catching slightly. "But we have sworn to serve and be loyal to Madam Marsha. Do you understand?" His voice trembled almost imperceptibly. He bit his lower lip, a subtle sign of the confusion and fear warring within him. "I..." He sighed deeply before continuing. "I sense Madam Marsha has a strange aura. I don't know why, but..." He closed his eyes briefly, as if searching for courage. "...I feel she makes me feel safe."
"I agree," Calina admitted softly. "Madam Marsha has a charisma that makes it impossible for me not to be on her side."
Intrigue within a conglomerate household, especially a mafia family, was an open secret. Seraphina's arrival signaled an inevitable, fierce rivalry between the established and the new wife. Giel had already chosen his side, meaning their loyalty could not be split, even if the other woman held seniority.
Calina's eyes widened in realization. "I... I understand."
"Now, regarding the first night," Giel said, turning to face her fully. "Calina, I am not at all convinced Mr. Gabriel will visit Madam Marsha's room."
"Why ever not?"
Calina didn't understand. Giel looked at her intently. "How long have you worked in this mansion?"
"I don't recall exactly, perhaps seven months. Why?"
"That explains it," Giel murmured. He resumed walking, with Calina falling into step beside him. "You probably haven't heard that—"
"That the Master is utterly obsessed with Madam Evelyn?"
"Right and wrong," Giel said, his steps measured, his eyes constantly scanning their surroundings out of habit. "Mr. Gabriel is deeply attached to Madam Evelyn, that is true. But do you know the reason for his devotion?"
Calina paused, her mind racing. Her brow furrowed as she replied, "I'm not certain why, but Madam Evelyn possesses her own charm with that beautiful face of hers."
Giel raised an eyebrow. "It's true Madam Evelyn is beautiful. But what of Madam Marsha? Her elegance is extraordinary, is it not?"
Calina felt her heart skip a beat. She leaned in, her voice a soft whisper as she glanced around the empty corridor. "Madam Marsha... ah, her beauty is truly breathtaking, a thousand times beyond Madam Evelyn's." Her eyes sparkled with awe before she continued in a huskier tone, "From the moment I saw her, I was secretly captivated. But I didn't dare show it, for fear someone would report this to Madam Evelyn. You know how she enjoys punishing servants who displease her."
Giel nodded in somber agreement. Calina pressed on, "Then, if you agree the young wife is more beautiful, why are you so sure the Master won't visit her tonight?" She was genuinely puzzled. "I, as a fellow woman, was taken by Madam Marsha's beauty. I'm certain the Master would be as well."
"The problem is not beauty that binds Mr. Gabriel to Madam Evelyn," Giel stated, looking at Calina with grave seriousness. "It is because Madam Evelyn's face bears a striking resemblance to someone from Mr. Gabriel's past. Someone who died long ago."
Calina's breath hitched. She whispered, "So that's why you're sure there will be no first night for Madam Marsha?" Now she understood. Gabriel would not fall for Marsha, even if she were perfection itself, because he saw a ghost in Evelyn's eyes. She recalled a rumor about Jack once being so furious with Gabriel's obsession that he ordered Albert to find a more beautiful girl to taunt him. That girl had met a tragic end with a bullet to the head.
---
Meanwhile, on the vast, manicured grounds of the Kingsley estate, a sleek black luxury sedan slid to a silent stop before the mansion's grand entrance. Felix, one of Gabriel's most loyal men, rushed to open the rear door.
Gabriel Kingsley stepped out, his presence immediately dominating the space. He was tall and powerfully built, his perfect features and strong jawline giving him the imposing air of a classical statue carved from marble. As he strode toward the entrance, the waiting staff and black-suited guards bowed deeply, the very air seeming to freeze under the weight of his chilling aura. His sharp, penetrating eyes scanned everyone in his path, as if seeing through to their souls. Dressed in an immaculate, expensive black suit with a crisp white shirt and a matching tie, he looked every bit the elegant, deadly ruler. This refined appearance was a stark contrast to his disrespectful attire at the altar. Every step he took commanded a mixture of awe and primal fear.
"Boss, Mr. Jack is waiting for you in his study," Albert said, stepping forward to greet his arrival.
Gabriel's eyebrow lifted a fraction. "The old fossil is in my house?"
Albert lowered his gaze respectfully. "He has been waiting since you left the altar, Sir."
Gabriel sighed, knowing exactly what this impromptu visit concerned. Despite their complex relationship of love and hate, Jack was his only remaining parent. Reluctantly, Gabriel's footsteps turned toward his father's private office within the residence.
Without knocking, Gabriel pushed the heavy oak door open and leaned against the frame. He watched as his father amused himself with a "toy"—a bruised and bleeding man kneeling on the expensive rug, begging for his life.
"What is it this time?" Gabriel asked, his voice dripping with lazy disinterest. He walked in and sank into a leather armchair, leaning back and propping one ankle on his opposite knee. "Isn't that Marcus? Your lackey?"
Jack grinned, a cold, mirthless expression. "Lackey? This vermin is nothing more than a rat I need to dispose of." He turned his gaze to the trembling man. "Please, Sir, I beg you—"
BANG!
A single gunshot rang out, cutting off the plea and extinguishing the man's life in an instant. The sound was brutally final in the soundproofed room.
"Clean this up," Jack said casually to two of his men, not blinking an eye. He placed the still-smoking pistol on his mahogany desk, took an embroidered handkerchief offered by an attendant, and meticulously wiped his hands before tossing the cloth into a bin. "The fool dared to sell our shipment details to a rival. Annoying. His life was so cheap, I regret ever making him my confidant."
Gabriel showed no interest. "Get to the point, Father. What did you come here to discuss?"
Jack signaled for his men to leave, ensuring not a single drop of blood remained as evidence. Once alone, he turned his full attention to his son. "You can guess the topic."
"Is this about the girl?" Gabriel's lazy look made Jack hiss in irritation.
"That girl is your wife, boy. You married her, legally and before God. Stop this childish defiance."
"You know I never wanted this marriage."
"But why? Marsha is a beautiful girl from a good family. Her reputation is impeccable."
"What does that matter to me?" Gabriel retorted, his voice cold. "A 'clean' reputation has never been our currency."
Everyone knew the Kingsley clan as evil, cruel, and psychopathic. It was strange for Jack to suddenly champion bourgeois concerns like social standing.
"But I at least need an heir born from a proper woman, not from some street whore like your other one!" Jack snapped.
"Father! Do not insult Evelyn!" Gabriel hissed, his composure cracking for the first time.
Jack's smile was a slanted, cruel thing. "I won't stop. And it's more than insults. I will have that woman eliminated if you refuse to spend this night with your legal wife."
"Fuck you!" Gabriel snarled, the word exploding in the tense, opulent room. The threat hung between them, a tangible line that had just been crossed.