The Sterling Gallery was tucked away in a quiet, cobblestone alley of the arts district—a world away from the cold marble and steel of the Thorne estate. For the first time in weeks, Seraphina felt she could breathe. She wasn't carrying a title or a contract; she was just a woman with a portfolio.
Before heading inside, she paused in the small, sun-drenched vestibule. She caught her reflection in a large, gilded mirror leaning against the wall. Her silk blouse was draped elegantly, but as she turned slightly, she noticed the subtle, unmistakable curve of her midsection. Her bump was finally starting to show.
A soft, instinctive smile touched her lips. She reached down, her palm resting gently over the small swell.
"It's just us today," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the distant hum of the city. "No contracts, no lawyers, and no shadows. I'm going to make sure you grow up knowing your mother was more than just a name in a ledger. We're going to be okay."
She gave her belly one last, reassuring rub, drawing strength from the life growing inside her, before smoothing her blouse and turning to the reception desk.
"I'm here for the restoration interview with Mr. Sterling," she said softly.
"Of course," the receptionist smiled. "He's just finishing up with a client. If you could wait in the lounge—"
"Sera? Seraphina Lin?"
The voice came from across the room. Seraphina froze. It was a voice from a life she thought had been erased—a voice that sounded like university coffee shops and late-night study sessions.
She turned to see a woman with messy auburn curls and a paint-stained apron standing in the doorway of the studio.
"Elena?" Seraphina whispered, her eyes widening.
Elena rushed forward, pulling Seraphina into a fierce hug that nearly knocked the wind out of her. Elena had been her best friend during university before Seraphina's father had forced her to move home to "prepare for social duties," effectively cutting her off from her peers.
"I've been trying to find you for three years!" Elena cried, pulling back to look at her. "I heard you got married, then I heard you disappeared... I thought you'd forgotten all about us commoners."
"I didn't forget," Seraphina said, a lump forming in her throat. "I just... life got complicated. Very complicated."
Elena's sharp eyes scanned Seraphina—taking in the expensive fabric, the subtle but priceless diamond on her finger, and then her eyes dropped to where Seraphina's hand had just been resting. Elena didn't see a "Thorne." She saw her friend.
"You look like you've been living in a high-security vault, Sera," Elena whispered, her voice dropping. "But wait... are you? Is that a...?" She gestured vaguely at Seraphina's stomach.
Seraphina nodded, a blush creeping up her neck. "A Thorne heir. But please, Elena, no one here can know. I applied under my grandmother's maiden name. If Mr. Sterling knows who my husband is, this won't be a job. It will be another cage."
Elena grabbed Seraphina's hand, giving it a firm squeeze. "Your secret is safe with me. If anyone asks, you're just the brilliant girl who used to out-paint everyone in the department. I've got your back, Sera. Always."
The interview with Mr. Sterling went perfectly. Seraphina's knowledge of Renaissance pigments and canvas structural integrity was undeniable. With Elena's endorsement, she was offered the position on the spot.
As she walked out of the gallery an hour later, she felt a sense of victory. She found Alexander's black SUV waiting at the curb. He was sitting in the back, a laptop on his knees, his face unreadable as the driver opened the door for her.
"You look different," Alexander remarked, his eyes scanning her face as she sat down. "Did you get the position?"
"I did," Seraphina said, looking him straight in the eye. "And I found something else today, too."
"What's that?"
"A reason to remember who I was before I met you."
Alexander went still. He didn't ask what she meant, but as the car pulled away, he noticed she didn't look at him once. She was staring out the window, her hand resting protectively over her child, a silent wall finally rising between her and the Tyrant