The conversation with her father should have ended there.
It probably would have—
if Seraphina's mind had not suddenly returned to the library fire.
To Adrian's voice.
To the black box resting between them.
'It belonged to my mother.'
The memory replayed clearly now.
Too clearly.
Seraphina stood near the underground office window silently.
Watching her father carefully.
Because something about that necklace had felt important the moment Adrian revealed it.
Not emotionally.
Historically.
Dangerously so.
Her father returned to his desk calmly.
Resuming his documents as though the conversation had already concluded.
But Seraphina didn't move.
"…Father."
He glanced upward briefly.
"…Hm?"
Her voice lowered slightly.
Careful.
"…The rosary necklace retrieved from the church."
A pause.
"…Where is it now?"
The room became still instantly.
Small.
Subtle.
But unmistakable.
Her father's hand stopped moving across the document.
Just for a second.
Then continued normally.
"…Why are you asking?"
Seraphina noticed immediately.
Too quickly.
Too carefully.
Which meant the question mattered.
She stepped closer slowly.
"…Because when I returned the ledger…"
Her eyes narrowed faintly.
"…the necklace was no longer with it."
Silence.
Heavy.
Measured.
Her father finally placed the document aside.
Leaning back slowly in his chair.
"…It disappeared."
Seraphina's pulse sharpened slightly.
"…Disappeared?"
A nod.
"…Without trace."
That answer unsettled her immediately.
ecause nothing simply vanished inside the De Luca estate.
Especially not artifacts recovered from a hidden church vault tied to mafia bloodlines.
Which meant either:
someone extraordinarily skilled stole it—
or someone inside the family removed it intentionally.
Her father's gaze remained steady.
"…The matter was investigated privately."
"By who?"
"…Me."
Again—
that answer felt too controlled.
Too final.
Seraphina crossed her arms slowly.
Thinking.
Then—
"…Do you know anything about the necklace?"
This time—
the reaction was impossible to miss.
Tiny.
Almost invisible.
But real.
Something flickered through her father's eyes.
Not fear.
Not anger.
Something softer.
Older.
Pain.
It vanished quickly.
Hidden beneath decades of practiced control.
But Seraphina saw it.
Because she was his daughter.
And because people who grew up around monsters learned to recognize the smallest cracks.
Her voice softened slightly.
"…Father?"
Lord De Luca looked away briefly.
Toward the dim underground lights beyond the office glass.
And for the first time that night—
he seemed distant.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Like his mind had gone somewhere far older than this room.
When Lord De Luca finally spoke again—
his voice had changed slightly.
Quieter.
Heavier.
"…I only saw that necklace once before."
Seraphina remained silent.
Listening carefully.
"…Long ago."
He walked slowly toward the window.
Hands behind his back once again.
The posture of a ruler.
But the silence around him now felt less like power—
and more like memory.
"…Before the families became what they are now."
That alone surprised Seraphina.
Because her father almost never spoke about the past.
Especially not emotionally.
"…I had a childhood friend."
The words sounded strange coming from him.
Almost unnatural.
Seraphina frowned slightly.
"…A friend?"
A faint smile touched his lips.
Small.
Bittersweet.
"…Yes."
Silence followed briefly.
Then—
"She was troublesome."
Another faint smile.
"…Always climbing walls she wasn't supposed to."
For a moment—
Seraphina could almost picture it.
Her terrifying father younger.
Less cold.
Less burdened.
Impossible to imagine fully.
Yet somehow real.
"She wore that rosary constantly."
His gaze remained distant now.
"…Even during training."
A pause.
"…Even during blood rituals."
Seraphina's chest tightened slightly.
Because the way he spoke about her—
was different.
Careful.
Like touching fragile glass.
"…Who was she?"
Lord De Luca went silent again.
Long enough that Seraphina wondered if he would answer at all.
Then finally—
"…Someone the underworld should never have lost."
The answer sent unease crawling softly through the room.
Because that did not sound like ordinary grief.
It sounded like history.
Dangerous history.
Seraphina stepped closer slowly.
"…What happened to her?"
This time—
her father's expression hardened immediately.
The softness vanished.
Gone behind steel.
"…She died."
Too fast.
Too controlled.
And somehow—
not entirely truthful.
Seraphina noticed instantly.
But didn't press further.
Because she understood something now.
This woman—
whoever she was—
still mattered enough that even mentioning her affected Lord De Luca deeply.
And somehow—
Adrian possessed her necklace.
Claiming it belonged to his mother.
Her pulse slowed.
Thoughts connecting rapidly now.
Too rapidly.
"…Father."
She spoke carefully.
"…What was her name?"
Silence.
Longer than before.
Then finally—
he answered quietly.
"…Selene."
The name settled strangely in the air.
Elegant.
Soft.
Yet carrying something ancient beneath it.
Lord De Luca turned away immediately afterward.
Signaling the conversation's end without saying it aloud.
But Seraphina remained standing silently.
Because now—
the mystery had only deepened.
The necklace.
Adrian.
The Wolf House.
The hidden day she lost.
And now—
a woman named Selene connected somehow to all of it.
Mean while Far away—
inside another hidden estate wrapped beneath mountains and rain—
a silver rosary rested quietly in gloved hands.
And a man with cold eyes stared at it silently.
Like he too was haunted by ghosts older than war itself.