Seraphina’s POV

After I hung up, the silence felt heavier than before.

Five days from now would be my twenty-seventh.

If life had gone the way I once believed it would, that day should’ve been the beginning of us.

The day the promise finally came true.

Instead, it was the date of his wedding.

My birthday. His wedding.

Was that deliberate? His way of making sure I’d remember it forever—not as the day I got everything I wanted, but the day he made sure I lost it all?

Of all the dates in the world, why that one?

Why turn the day I’d waited six years for into the cruelest joke imaginable?

I turned a corner and found myself at the mouth of a dark alley.

And somehow, that was all it took for another memory to surface—the very first time I met Kael.

I was sixteen.

Father had taken me to one of his endless mafia gatherings, the kind filled with expensive suits, false smiles, and too many eyes watching too closely.

Halfway through the night, I escaped.

Slipped out the back doors and into the garden, desperate for air. The pond shimmered faintly under the lights, and I thought maybe, for a few minutes, I could just breathe.

The men inside always looked at me like I was a prize tag instead of a person. If not for my father’s name, I probably would’ve been treated as entertainment.

I was walking along the pond when a group of four men appeared from the shadows. I recognized one—he’d been in the party earlier.

“Miss  Dusk?” he called.

Every instinct in me said leave.

“Yes,” I answered, forcing my tone steady. “If you’ll excuse me.”

I turned to go, but another man stepped in front of me—a burly one with a scar across his eyebrow. His voice was almost amused. “Not so fast, young lady.”

Panic tightened my chest.

It was the first time I’d ever been surrounded like that—by people from my father’s world, yet so clearly against him. Against me.

“What’s wrong?” I managed, trying not to show how scared I was.

One of them laughed, sharp and low. “Your father’s becoming a problem. If he wants to stay alive in New  York, he should stop stepping on our toes.”

“I don’t know anything about his business,” I said, keeping my chin up. “But if you touch me, my father will kill you.”

That made them laugh harder.

“Kill us?” one sneered. “He wouldn’t dare. Your father’s a coward. If it weren’t for a few friends of his we’d rather not upset, he’d already be dead.”

The burly one leaned in, his breath stale and warm. The overhead light caught in his eyes, turning them into something sharp and gleaming.

“And as for you…” he said, grinning slow and cruel, “I’ll make sure you’re very comfortable.”

“Asshole,” I snapped, though my voice shook.

There were no rules in the mafia world. Not really. And I knew these men meant every word they said.

Panic clawed up my throat. I felt it—hot and rising. But then—

A voice cut through the tension, smooth and laced with something deceptively calm. “Are these scumbags bothering you, Miss Dusk?”

I turned.

A man in a tailored suit stood behind me. His hair was slicked back, his features clean and composed. Too composed.

He didn’t belong in this world. Or at least… that’s what I thought.

Until the men around me went dead silent.

The one who’d just threatened me actually cleared his throat and stepped back.

Another one dipped his head. “Mr. Viremont, we didn’t know—”

“You didn’t know she was Lucien’s daughter?” The man, none other than the Kael Viremont, took a slow step forward. “Or is that exactly why you were bothering her?”

The air around him shifted. The danger didn’t come from volume—it came from the way he spoke, like he was giving them a chance to dig their own graves.

It was the first time I saw Kael, and he saved me. Even now, with my heart still aching from what I’d overheard in his office, I couldn’t stop the memories from flooding in.

Seraphina’s POV

Kael and I had built so many memories over the years, I’d lost count.

On his birthdays, I always baked him a cake—burned at the edges, lopsided, barely holding together. But it became our thing. Our ritual. And every time, without fail, he’d cup my face, smile like I’d just handed him the moon, and say it was the most special birthday he’d ever had.

There was the night we got caught in the rain, laughing as we ran through the empty streets, soaked to the bone. He grabbed my hand and didn’t let go until we reached his vineyard just outside the city. We curled up under a single blanket in the cellar, shoulders pressed together, hearts even closer.

And then there was the moment—maybe the hardest to remember now—when my parents asked me to leave with them. To start fresh in Italy.

I said no for so many times. All because I had a promise to keep.

I wanted to be here when I turned twenty-seven. For Kael, for us.

And Kael did take care of me since mom and dad left.

I thought that meant he loved me. I believed it meant he loved me.

But now? Now I see it clearly.

Maybe he liked me. Maybe he even enjoyed the way I looked at him like he was the center of my world.

But he never loved me.

That part? That sacred, real, terrifying part?

He’d always reserved that—for Vivienne.

…

As soon as I got back to my apartment, I started packing.

There wasn’t much to bring, really. Once I’d gone through my closet and pulled out the things I no longer wanted—half of which reminded me of him—I realized everything I truly cared about fit neatly into a single suitcase.

The rest? Clothes, keepsakes, gifts Kael had given me over the years—they were going to be sold or donated. Every cent would go to charity.

That part, at least, felt good. Clean.

I sat on the floor and let myself breathe for a second.

Then my phone rang. Lila. My best friend in New York. Also a fellow mafia heiress, though with far better taste in men.

“Hey girl!” she chirped, her voice spilling through the speaker like sunshine. “Ready to go shopping? Sorry we’re not doing a joint party this year—blame my boyfriend. He’s insisting I host it separately. I think he’s planning something. Maybe a proposal? I mean, it has been two years and he’s been acting all weird and romantic…”

She kept going, breezy and excited, until she finally paused—probably realizing I hadn’t said a word.

Lila knew me. She knew how much I loved Kael. How much I’d been looking forward to this birthday, thinking it would finally be our moment.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Her tone shifted. “Did Kael do something stupid again? I swear, if he—”

“It’s over, Lila,” I said quietly. “I’m done with him.”

The line went silent.

“Wait. What?” she asked, gentler now. “What happened? Weren’t you two… going to make it official on your this year’s birthday?”

I hesitated. For a second, I considered keeping it all to myself. But then I exhaled and said it out loud. “I’m not spending my birthday in New York this year. I’m flying to Italy to be with my mom and dad.”

“You’re leaving?”

Her shock wasn’t unexpected. She was one of the few people who knew just how many times I’d turned down my parents’ invitations to join them abroad.

I stayed—for Kael.

“Yes,” I said.

We didn’t speak for a while after that. Then Lila’s voice came through, soft and steady. “I respect your decision, babe. If that’s what makes you happy…”

“It will.”

She hesitated. “Are you going to tell him you’re leaving?”

She didn’t say his name.

“No,” I replied. “And I’d rather you didn’t either. I want to keep this quiet. I don’t need the drama.”

“Of course,” she promised. Then, a slight pause. “Wait—can you still come to my birthday party? I know Kael might be there and—”

“I’ll come,” I cut in gently. “You’re the only person I still care about here. And besides, I’ve had your gift picked out for months.”

After we hung up, I let myself sank onto the sofa, head tipped against the cushions, eyes fluttering shut.

I wasn’t sure how long I stayed like that before my phone buzzed again.

A message. From Kael.

“What’s your plan for your birthday party this year?”

I stared at the screen. Said nothing.

Then another ping.

“I might miss it this time. I’m getting married. Same day.”

My fingers hovered over the keyboard.

I typed one word. “Congratulations.”

And hit send.

Kael’s POV

“What does she mean by congratulations?” I frowned, rereading the text on my screen. “She didn’t even sound upset.”

Eric, my friend, lounging on the sofa with a wine glass in hand, gave me a look. “Maybe she’s not. Or maybe she already figured out the wedding’s fake. Would that even matter?”

He shrugged. “If she’s upset, she knows it won’t change anything. If she’s not… then congrats, you did your job. She won’t come clawing for you anymore. Maybe she’s finally accepted that it was never going to work out between you two.”

I should’ve felt relieved. Maybe even triumphant.

Wasn’t this what I wanted?

Over the years, I played my part. Smiled when Seraphina brought me coffee. Let her plan birthday surprises and drag me out in the rain and stitch herself into the seams of my life.

And then this year—Vivienne, my secret crush for years. She finally said the words I’d been dying to hear. That she wanted to get married.

I knew I couldn’t put off the inevitable any longer. I had to cut Seraphina loose.

The only thing I hadn’t expected was how quiet her exit would be.

One word.

Congratulations.

I stared at it, but my mind kept drifting.

Back to Seraphina’s laugh when she burned my birthday cake. Back to the time we ran through a thunderstorm and ended up huddled in one blanket, soaked and shivering and stupidly happy.

If she hadn’t been so young… If she hadn’t been Lucien’s daughter…

No. I shook my head.

Kael, you love Vivienne. Remember?

Seraphina was never more than family. Someone I looked after. Nothing else.

Eric stood and smoothed his shirt. “My advice? Play it cool. If she’s pretending to be happy, the cracks will show soon enough. It’s not like she can fake her way through your wedding. Especially not when it’s on her birthday.”

Before I could respond, the door opened.

Lila stepped in.

Seraphina’s best friend. And judging by the tight line of her mouth, she wasn’t here to say hi.

“Kael,” she said, sharp and clipped. “A word.”

I stood, buttoned my jacket, and followed her out into the hallway.

The second we were alone, she whirled on me.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You couldn’t even have the basic decency to respect Seraphina—or her birthday?”

Before I could open my mouth, a third voice cut in.

“What are we talking about here?”

Vivienne.

She strolled toward us, all elegance and sharp perfume, sliding her arm around mine without missing a beat.

We’d agreed on this—act like a couple, especially in front of anyone from Seraphina’s circle.

Still, I flinched as Lila’s eyes cut to where Vivienne held me.

It felt like being caught.

“I’m sorry,” Vivienne said smoothly, tilting her head with practiced sweetness. “What exactly do you mean by not respecting Seraphina’s birthday?”

She smiled up at me, leaning in closer.

Lila stared at us. Then smiled. “Nothing,” she said flatly. “Just wanted to say congratulations.”

And then she turned on her heel and walked away.

But something in her tone—too calm, too clean—twisted in my gut.

Unease curled in my chest. Was Lila’s appearance tonight one of Seraphina’s ideas? Was this her way of showing me that she was upset about the wedding?

“Kael, did I do okay?” Vivienne’s voice softened the second the door clicked shut behind Lila. She unhooked her arm from mine and looked up at me. “You said to act affectionate—especially around her people. I hope I didn’t overdo it.”

I smiled. Took her hand. “You did great.”

And with that, we headed back into the party.