CHAPTER 9
Seraphina arrived at the towering glass monolith of Lumina Tower at 10:15 sharp the next morning, head pounding faintly from last night's excess and the lack of sleep, but her mind razor-clear.
Her fingers brushed unconsciously against her cheek, the skin still tingling from Alexander's touch hours ago. The ghost of his thumb tracing her cheekbone lingered like brand. Her heart fluttered traitorously, quick and light, like a trapped butterfly beating its wings against glass.
She had dressed in the best of her clothes—a fitted ivory silk blouse tucked into high-waisted black trousers that skimmed her legs. Over it, a tailored blazer in deep midnight black, cinched at the waist to accentuate her figure. Delicate gold earrings—one of her own Hale Lumina designs—caught the light, and her sleek black pumps added four inches of commanding height she desperately desired.
She wanted to feel confident, unbreakable and in control, like a lady who knew what she wanted and how to get that. But a quieter part of her, the one that still remembered storm-blue eyes and a thumb brushing her cheek, admitted the truth, she also wanted to impress him.
The lobby of Lumina Tower was a cathedral of marble and light—polished white floors veined with gold, soaring ceilings, discreet security in tailored suits blending seamlessly with the architecture. Her heels clicked sharply against the marble as she crossed it, drawing subtle glances but no interference.
Aurora waited near the private elevator bank, clutching a slim leather portfolio, her eyes wide with a mix of nerves and excitement.
"Morning," Seraphina greeted, her voice steady and warm. "Ready?"
Aurora nodded quickly, straightening. "More than ready."
Inside Seraphina's office—now swept daily for bugs—she wasted no time shedding her blazer and settling behind the desk.
"First things first," she said, gesturing Aurora to the chair opposite. "Your role may be Executive Coordinator, but in practice you're my right hand. You'll handle scheduling, filter communications, sit in on key meetings, and—most importantly—watch for anything off. Emails, calls, even body language in boardrooms. I need another set of eyes I can trust."
Aurora nodded seriously. "I can do that."
"Good. HR sent the formal contract this morning—full benefits, equity package, nondisclosure agreement that could bury a small country. Did you meet with them yet?"
"Not yet," Aurora admitted. "They scheduled me for this afternoon."
"Push it up," Seraphina said. "Tell them I need it signed today. And get your building access sorted—badge, parking, the works. From now on, you're glued to me."
Aurora's lips curved in a small, determined smile. "Got it."
Seraphina leaned back, studying her half-sister. "One more thing. This isn't just a job. It's war. And I need to know you're all in."
Aurora met her gaze without flinching. "I am. After what they tried to do to you… I'm all in."
Seraphina felt the knot in her chest loosen—just a fraction.
The clock on her desk read 9:47.
That was still four more hours to go.
A disappointed noise escaped her lips.
She busied herself with work, pulling up the latest stock dashboard. The numbers stared back, stubborn and red. No miracle rebound. The boycott clung like smoke; the dip held steady at 152%. She closed the tab with more force than necessary.
The morning dragged into tedious meetings. First the CFO—budget reallocation, slashing non-essentials, deferring supplier payments. Then the COO—revised launch timelines, damage-control PR scripts, contingency plans for department-store pullouts. Every conversation circled the same drain-cash burn, investor nerves.
By 1 p.m., exhaustion had already settled into her bones, but the clock still crawled.
Then came the surprise Seraphina didn't welcome at all.
Victoria.
She swept into the office unannounced—security still had standing orders to admit family. The room was under constant surveillance while Victoria remained, any hint of threat and security would intervene.
Seraphina rose slowly, forcing a warm smile, and greeted her mother with a brief, perfumed hug. She would pretend everything was normal, and be the warm, understanding daughter she had been all her life. At least for now, an immediate change in personality would serve as a big, bold, red caution sign to them. No. No, that won't be wise. So she won't hint anything related to Golden Enterprises nor anything related to how they were planning to kill her.
Victoria pulled back, eyes already glistening with practiced tears. "Oh, my darling girl, look at you. So pale, so tired. This whole awful business is destroying you."
Pale? She had thought she had cleaned up rather nicely today!
Seraphina gestured to the guest chair. "Sit, Mother. Tea?"
Victoria sank gracefully into the seat.
"Tea would be lovely. Earl Grey, if you have it. You know how it soothes me."
Seraphina poured in silence, handing over the cup.
"Sephy, I've been beside myself with worry. You've shut us out completely. I understand—you're angry, hurt—but we're family. Blood. Nothing should come between that. Remember when you were little? You and Evelyn in matching dresses, holding hands at those dreadful society lunches. You were inseparable."
Seraphina hummed, forcing herself not to react.
Victoria pressed on, her voice trembling. "I know things have been strained. The divorce was hard on all of us. But Evelyn… she's your sister. She loves you. This whole scandal—she didn't plan it. It just… happened."
Seraphina's grip tightened on her own cup.
"And the company," Victoria continued, leaning forward, her eyes wide with maternal concern. "Darling, the stocks. I heard you rejected several proposals this week. Good ones. You've worked so hard for Hale Lumina—poured your heart into it since you were twenty. It would break me to watch it slip away because of pride. Think of your legacy. All those late nights, the sacrifices… gone. Just like that."
Victoria reached across the desk, trying to take Seraphina's hand.
"Let me help. I have connections. We can smooth things over. Bring you back into the fold. A united front. The world loves a family reconciliation story. The boycott would fade overnight."
Seraphina pulled her hand away, her smile rapidly thinning.
Victoria didn't stop.
"You're so stubborn, just like your father. But you're alone now, Sephy. Truly alone. Samantha left, the board's whispering, Clara's circling. You need us. You need your mother. I've always wanted the best for both my girls. Evelyn may have… Derek, but you're the brilliant one. The one who built something real. Don't throw it away because you're angry at me."
Her voice cracked theatrically. "I know I wasn't perfect. The divorce, the custody battles—I made mistakes. But everything I did was to protect you girls. Please, darling. Let us fix this together. For the family."
Seraphina had listened long enough.
"Mother," Seraphina cut in, her tone cool and clipped, "I topped business studies at Wharton. I think I know how to handle business."
But deep down she knew that the only way to get out of this was fresh investment to stabilize the stocks.
Victoria dabbed the handkerchief to her eyes, her voice trembling with that familiar, theatrical quiver.
"Dear, are you angry with your sister? Darling Evelyn didn't mean any harm. She's been crying for days—she never wanted to hurt you. It just… happened. Love isn't something you plan, Sephy. You know that."
"You have it all—the perfect degree, the perfect company, the name everyone envies. You've always been the brilliant one, the independent one, the one who didn't need anyone. At least let your sister have the perfect man. Derek adores her. They're happy. Why punish them for finding something real?"
"I know you're hurt. Of course you are. But holding on to this anger… it's poisoning you. Think of the family. Think of me. I've lost sleep worrying about both my girls. Evelyn feels terrible—she says you were always the favorite, the one Father kept, the one who got the mansion, the legacy. She only ever had scraps."
Seraphina stood slowly, walked around the desk, and looked into her mother's eyes.
"You want me to forgive her?" Seraphina said, each word precise as a blade. "The sister who stole my fiancé in front of the entire city and pretended I was the jealous other woman?"
Victoria flinched, but Seraphina didn't stop.
"And you—you stood there at the banquet taking her side. You shielded her and Derek like they were the victims."
Victoria's voice cracked. "I was trying to protect the family—"
Seraphina cut her off, her voice rising for the first time. "I don't want to talk about this anymore, Mother. I have a meeting to go to."
She grabbed her blazer and bag, striding toward the door.
Victoria reached for her arm, tears streaming. "Sephy, please—"
Seraphina shrugged her off and left without looking back, leaving Victoria standing alone in the office, crying softly as the door closed.
Her driver, fell in step beside her in the hallway.
"To Langford Tower," she said, her voice steady again.