Vivienne’s POV

I drew a steady breath before speaking, because once I said the words aloud, they would change everything. “I’ve made my decision,” I told my father quietly yet firmly. “I’m going to marry Lucian Vale.”

The sentence lingered in the air like a cold draft.

My father—Victor Ardent, master strategist, ruthless negotiator, and the man who had built the Ardent empire from nothing but ambition—stilled at the corner of his polished war table. The room smelled faintly of cedar and ink, the scent he surrounded himself with whenever he was planning something monumental. He lifted his head slowly, disbelief etched into every line of his expression.

“You can’t be serious,” he said at last, his voice low and disbelieving, as if hoping I might retract my words.

But I had never felt more certain.

Lucian Vale, heir to one of the wealthiest and most powerful families in the region, had been poisoned months ago with a cocktail of illegal substances laced with an exotic botanical toxin. He had collapsed during a public marathon and had not regained consciousness since. Specialists from across the world had examined him, but none could wake him. Machines kept his body alive; rumors kept his legacy breathing.

No woman wanted to be tied to a man who might never open his eyes again. Who would? A marriage to a motionless figure—a husband who would never speak, never move, never acknowledge his wife—was a future few could accept.

And yet, I volunteered.

“The Vale family has been pressing for the ceremony,” I reminded my father, keeping my tone even. “They will not tolerate indefinite delays. You know how they operate.”

“They asked for Cassandra,” he said, rigidity returning to his posture.

“I’m aware.” I lifted my chin slightly. “But Cassandra considers it intolerable to be bound to a man with no certainty of recovery. So I am offering myself in her place.”

He drew in a sharp breath and exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders melting away as his practiced, calculating mind began to work. “This arrangement could benefit everyone,” he murmured, already drifting into strategy. “It would secure our partnership with the Vales. It would protect our interests along the northern trade line. I’ll begin preparations immediately. We need—”

“I want compensation,” I interrupted, my voice slicing through his planning.

He stopped mid-thought and turned to look at me fully. “What did you say?”

“You’re not asking me to do this out of affection or duty,” I said steadily. “You want to protect Cassandra. So if I am stepping into a future she refused, I expect something in return.”

His brows pulled together. “Vivienne, this isn’t the time for theatrics—”

“I want half of the entire treasury,” I said calmly. “Not the symbolic dowry. Not a token amount. Half of everything—your private vaults included.”

His jaw tightened. “That would leave me nearly bankrupt.”

“Then consider it repayment,” I answered, meeting his gaze without flinching.

He stared at me as though seeing a stranger, even though I had spent my entire life in the shadow of his mistakes, pushed aside by the daughter he openly preferred.

“And,” I added as I turned toward the door, “I want Dominic reassigned.”

His expression darkened with confusion. “Dominic?”

“My personal security officer.” The soft echo of my footsteps filled the room. “Transfer him to Cassandra’s detail. He can look after her now.”

“You’re letting him go?” he said, clearly startled. “You once told me you planned to marry him someday.”

“I have no such intention anymore,” I replied, not bothering to look back.

He didn’t stop me as I walked away.

He didn’t question me again or call out after me.

He never did—unless it benefited Cassandra.

He would give her the world. It was about time he gave me something too.

---

My mother had died because of his infidelity—because she discovered the other woman, the other household, the other daughter. The betrayal shattered her so completely that her mind crumbled long before her body gave out. I watched her slip away piece by piece, her grief devouring her until nothing remained.

I had despised him for it. I had despised them. But especially Cassandra, who basked in a life built on my mother’s ruin.

Perhaps that was why I had clung to Dominic with such desperate hope. He was the only person who made me feel protected, the only one who seemed steady in a world that had always been cruel to me.

Or so I believed.

Before everything unraveled.

---

It was nearly midnight when I arrived at my secluded home on the outskirts of the Ardent estate. Pale moonlight stretched across the gravel path, illuminating the quiet lawns and the tall trees lining the driveway. Most people preferred to live near the city center, close to the business hub and political circles.

I preferred the silence.

Distance never betrayed.

But as I approached the hallway leading to the guest rooms, I heard something—labored breathing, soft but unmistakable. A heavy rhythm. A sound that made the hairs on my arms rise.

Then came the scent—warm, intimate, impossible to mistake.

Dominic.

My pulse quickened.

The guest room door was slightly ajar. I could have kept walking. I should have. But some part of me—a part I didn’t yet recognize as a desperate fool—moved closer instead.

Through the narrow gap, I saw him.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, shirt discarded on the floor, his skin sheened with sweat. His movements were urgent, unguarded, vulnerable in a way I had never seen from him. And in his hand… a photo.

A photograph of Cassandra.

He whispered her name in a breathless, almost reverent tone.

I felt something inside me collapse—the kind of collapse that leaves you hollow and numb. I couldn’t look away. Couldn’t breathe. Dominic, the man I had believed in for years, the man I had practically thrown myself at, the man I had chosen out of a lineup of elite officers, was unraveling before me… and none of it was for me.

He’d been the quietest one during that selection—silent, impossibly composed, and breathtakingly handsome in a way that drew attention without trying. I had tried everything to gain his interest. Every dress, every flirtation, every risky stunt. He never yielded.

I had once convinced myself it was integrity.

But it had always been indifference.

His phone buzzed.

He answered immediately.

“Yes,” he said, his voice transforming into a tone I had never heard before—confident, commanding, almost aristocratic in its authority.

I froze.

“I’ve been posing as Vivienne’s bodyguard for years,” he said, tone steady as ever. “Do you think I’d abandon the mission now? Staying near her is the only way to protect Cassandra.”

A pause.

“No, she suspects nothing. She believes she’s winning me over. Pathetic.”

A cold sensation slid down my spine.

“She is nothing compared to Cassandra,” he continued. “You know how vital Cassandra’s role is. I’m convinced she’s the one in the prophecy—the woman the seer described.”

It felt as though the ground had vanished beneath me.

“I’ll remain undercover until Cassandra realizes who I am to her,” he said. “Keep the Silvana operations running while I’m gone. Understood?”

Silvana—

A name whispered in corruption cases, an unregistered organization rumored to operate in the shadows with alarming efficiency.

Dominic… involved with them? Leading them?

My pulse hammered in my ears. I should have collapsed, screamed, cried, anything.

But instead, fueled by heartbreak and fury I had never experienced before, I pushed the door wide open.

Vivienne’s POV

The instant I stepped into the room, having shoved the door open with more force than necessary, I froze where I stood. My body reacted before my mind did—heart thundering, breath caught, every nerve in me going rigid as if bracing for an impact. Dominic didn’t bother to hide the photograph in his hand, the picture of Cassandra held with a reverence that twisted something deep inside me. His other hand was busy with something I wished I hadn’t seen, yet couldn’t tear my eyes from.

The evidence of his desire was unmistakable.

He didn’t flinch when he realized I was standing there, witnessing the entire thing. He didn’t stumble, didn’t stutter, didn’t even look startled. Instead, he calmly slipped the photo behind his back, rose to his full height with his usual controlled elegance, and met my gaze with that same detached professionalism he had always worn around me.

As though I had not just caught him lost in intimate fantasies of another woman—my father’s precious second daughter.

A part of me wanted to scream, to strike him, to demand an explanation. But the rage hollowing my chest formed into something colder instead. I smiled.

A slow, poisonous smile.

“Need a hand?” My voice came out honey-sweet, but sharpened at the edges with bitterness I didn’t bother to hide.

His expression didn’t shift. No shame. No discomfort. Not even the courtesy of guilt. “That won’t be necessary, Miss Vivienne,” he replied coolly. “This is a private matter.”

Of course he still addressed me formally. As if we hadn’t grown up in the same household. As if I hadn’t trusted him with my safety, my secrets, my affection—affection I once believed he returned. But Cassandra, with her angelic smile and carefully polished innocence, had undone all of that with effortless grace. He had chosen her, silently and decisively, without ever letting me know I was competing.

I turned and walked away, my throat tightening with pride and fury, refusing to let myself break. I was done with the pathetic chase I had allowed myself to endure.

If the world wanted Cassandra to be its sweet little darling, then I could become whatever poison thrived beneath that façade.

Behind me, he finally spoke. “Why are you here?”

I glanced back over my shoulder, smirk tugging at my lips. “Nothing important,” I lied smoothly. “Just wanted to tell you to escort me to the fashion gala tomorrow. Cassandra will be attending.”

The slightest twitch in his expression—barely noticeable to anyone else—gave him away. Her name alone anchored him.

He didn’t even try to hide it.

---

The following evening, he waited at the bottom of the staircase, impeccably dressed in a sharp black suit trimmed with subtle silver accents, hair pristine, demeanor unreadable. I walked past him without acknowledgment for the first time in years, and though he hid it well, a brief flicker of surprise crossed his face. I saw it. I always did.

The drive to the gala was suffocatingly quiet. The silence between us felt thick, stretched, filled with unspoken things I no longer had the energy to voice. I kept my expression serene, refusing to grant him even a glimpse of the storm he had caused.

When we arrived at the Limited Edition Fashion Gala, eyes turned instantly. Whispers followed in waves—some curious, others speculative. I entered not simply as Vivienne Ardent, daughter of a wealthy political family, but as a woman soon to be formally linked to the Vale family, one of the most influential dynasties in the country. Even though Lucian Vale remained unconscious in a hospital suite due to the mysterious poisoning months ago, the engagement was already sealed by both families.

Tonight, I walked as his future wife.

Then she arrived.

Cassandra floated into the hall draped in a pale silver gown, every step designed to capture attention. Her lips were painted a delicate cherry red, her smile practiced to perfection. She approached me with her sugary laugh.

“Hello, sister,” she chimed.

I faced her with ice instead of warmth. “Don’t address me that way.”

Behind me, I felt Dominic stiffen, his posture shifting ever so slightly as she looked at him. His features gentled—subtle, but unmistakable. And when she smiled back at him, my stomach twisted. The entire room seemed to blur around her.

That’s when I saw it.

A breathtaking gown displayed on a raised pedestal—a seamless blend of midnight blue and pale silver, the beading shimmering like stardust. It was the kind of piece that transformed a woman into a story. And I knew instantly it was the dress I wanted for my first official appearance as Lucian Vale’s fiancée.

“I’ll take this one,” I told the designer.

Her face brightened. “A popular choice. Many have tried to purchase it. Offers in gold, antiques, even heirloom jewels.”

“I’ll pay double in gold.”

Before the transaction could be sealed, Cassandra stepped forward and grazed the sleeve with her fingertips. “Oh, what a gorgeous dress,” she murmured. “I’m thinking of trying it on.”

I stiffened. “It’s already mine.”

She tilted her head, a saccharine smile in place. “Surely the designer won’t object to a little competition.”

Before I could speak, a man approached—tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in charcoal-black with the kind of quiet authority that commanded the room. He glanced toward Dominic briefly, as though acknowledging him, before addressing the designer.

“We’ll buy the gown,” he said. “Name your price.”

“And you are?” the designer asked, startled.

“Reid,” he replied smoothly. “Acting representative of the Silvana Organization. Our director has instructed us to acquire anything Miss Cassandra Ardent desires tonight. Cost is irrelevant.”

A hush fell over the room.

“Silvana?”

“Why her?”

“Is she involved with them?”

Cassandra blinked innocently. “I’ve never even met him,” she murmured, false modesty dripping from her voice.

She turned to me with wide, delighted eyes. “Will you still try to get it? I’d hate to see you overspend.”

I dug my nails into my palm.

Dominic didn’t even look my way. His gaze remained fixed on her.

What happened next was a spectacle: dress after dress, accessory after accessory, designer after designer—each time Cassandra attended to something she liked, Beta Reid stepped in and purchased it immediately, without hesitation.

I watched silently, my chest tightening with each transaction.

Finally, I asked him, “Does your director intend to leave anything for anyone else tonight?”

He glanced at Dominic again, subtle but clear. “Our director only cares about Miss Cassandra’s happiness. The rest of you are… insignificant.”

The words struck harder than I expected.

Dominic practically glowed whenever she looked at him, while I forced myself not to react.

By the end of the night, Cassandra was surrounded by admirers and stylists, arms full of luxury.

I slipped away quietly, stepping into the city’s chill night air.

“Bloodmoon Lounge,” I told the driver. “Take me there.”

I needed the burn of alcohol, the distraction of music, something to drown out the ache.

Before the car could move, Cassandra suddenly opened the door and slid into the seat next to me, grinning like a child. “You’re going out? Perfect! I’m coming too.”

I nearly shoved her back outside, but Dominic arrived and held the door open.

“Drive,” he instructed calmly.

The car pulled away, and Cassandra began chattering. “Isn’t it strange? The head of Silvana being so interested in me? I’ve never met him, but they say he’s unbelievably handsome.”

Dominic chuckled under his breath. “He probably just has good taste,” he said. “You are… someone special.”

Then she asked him the question I wished she wouldn’t.

“Do you like me too, Dominic?”

He hesitated, but I sensed the answer forming—felt it like a knife pressing into my skin.

Before he could speak, I cut in sharply, “If the two of you want to flirt, do it outside my car. This is my ride.”

Cassandra winced. “Sorry… I didn’t mean—”

I turned away, looking out the window.

In the reflection, I saw Dominic glance at her—soft, warm, almost tender.

Then his gaze shifted to me.

Hard. Cold. Dismissive.

I smiled faintly, the bitterness rising like smoke.

So this was what men loved: sweetness, fragility, little sighs and gentle smiles.

Everything I was never allowed to be.

Vivienne’s POV

The Bloodmoon Club throbbed with bass and neon, every pulse of the music vibrating through the crowded room. Heat, perfume, sweat, laughter—everything blurred together until the whole place felt like it was closing in on me. No amount of whiskey—burning, bitter, relentless—could quiet the ache twisting inside my chest. The lights smeared into streaks of red and silver as people moved around me, but my mind kept circling back to the same image.

Them. Together.

In the elevated VIP booth, I saw Dominic—my personal bodyguard, the one man I’d trusted without question—standing stiff and composed beside Cassandra. She leaned in toward him, whispering something flirtatious, fingers brushing along the line of his jaw as if she had every right to touch him.

His expression cracked.

Just slightly.

His ears turned pink.

A blush.

My fingers tightened around my glass so hard that it shattered in my hand.

Before I could decide whether to scream or cry, I threw back what was left of my drink and shoved my way to the dance floor. I needed noise. Chaos. Anything that wasn’t the quiet agony of watching the two people who had hurt me the most stand inches apart like fate had always intended them for each other.

My dress—a deep, dangerous red—clung to my body like armor. Men gravitated to it instantly. A group of drunk rich heirs circled me, each one emboldened by the alcohol in their system and the darkness of the club.

One reached for my waist.

“Touch me again,” I warned, my voice sharp enough to draw blood, “and you’ll regret it.”

They only laughed. Another leaned in closer.

My reflexes dulled by liquor, I reacted a beat too late.

So I snapped,

“Dominic!”

Everything stopped.

The men scattered the moment Dominic pushed through the crowd, his presence alone enough to make them back off. He didn’t have to raise his voice. He didn’t even have to lift a hand. He just stood there—broad-shouldered, authoritative—and they fled like cowards.

I scoffed. “Oh, so you do remember who you’re assigned to,” I said, dripping with resentment. “I assumed you’d wait until she told you I needed help.”

His jaw tightened. “I didn’t see them—”

“Please,” I cut him off, stepping close enough to inhale the cologne on his collar. “You only see Cassandra. That’s your whole world now, isn’t it?”

He looked away, which told me everything.

“You’re drunk,” he muttered.

“Good,” I replied. “I prefer it.”

I turned to walk away, but a piercing scream sliced through the music.

And suddenly the room exploded into chaos.

People were running, overturning tables, shouting. The floor turned into a tangle of bodies and panic. Someone must have triggered a fight—one of the dangerous street gangs the club had been trying to keep out recently.

I spun toward Dominic.

He had already moved.

Straight to Cassandra.

Always, always to her.

Before I fully grasped the situation, one of the attackers was suddenly in front of me—a man with wild eyes and a knife glinting in his hand. I lunged at him, adrenaline surging, managing to scratch his face before he dodged and drove the blade into my shoulder.

Fire tore through me.

I screamed as the world warped, pain spreading like poison under my skin. I staggered, clutching my wound, the metallic scent of blood filling my lungs. He vanished into the chaos without another look.

My legs gave out.

Just before the darkness swallowed me, I saw Dominic rushing through the crowd—still guarding Cassandra like she was the only life worth protecting.

Then the world went black.

---

I woke to the sterile burn of antiseptic. The ceiling was white. The sheets smelled like bleach. Machines beeped softly beside me. My shoulder throbbed viciously.

But I was awake.

Doctors had always said the gang that attacked us used a drug known for inducing prolonged comas—fast, dangerous, almost irreversible. Victims slept for months.

Yet I was conscious.

Why?

My gaze drifted to the frosted glass wall separating my room from the hallway.

Soft voices floated through.

I turned my head—and froze.

Cassandra stood outside… in Dominic’s arms.

He held her delicately, like she was made of porcelain. His hand stroked her hair. His voice—normally cold and clipped—had melted into something gentle.

“I shouldn’t have let you come,” he murmured. “I should’ve protected you better.”

Cassandra sniffled. “But Vivienne… she got hurt because of me.”

“That’s not your fault,” he whispered. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

She looked up at him, eyes shimmering. “Why do you care so much, Dominic? Why her… not me?”

His voice trembled.

“Because I lo—”

A crash cut him off.

The vase beside my bed had slipped from my hand.

Cassandra spun around, eyes wide. Dominic stiffened.

They ran into the room.

“Vivienne!” Cassandra gasped. “You’re awake! Thank God, I’ve been so worried—”

“Drop the performance,” I said icily. “My recovery slows down every second you stand near me.”

Her face fell. She fled the room in tears.

Dominic stayed.

“I didn’t have time—”

“You had time for her,” I snapped. “You always do.”

He had no answer to that.

---

The day I was released, my shoulder heavily bandaged, I walked into the study where Dominic waited.

He stood at attention.

“Kneel,” I said.

He flinched, but he obeyed—slowly lowering himself to the floor.

“You failed the duties you swore to me,” I said quietly. “By the standards of your contract, that’s grounds for dismissal and public disgrace. Some families demand… harsher outcomes.”

His eyes flickered, but he remained still.

“I’m not going to ruin your life, Dominic. But punishment? You’ll take it.”

“If that’s what you want,” he murmured. “Then I will.”

Those words—spoken so obediently—stabbed deeper than any knife.

Of course he’d accept.

If it meant staying in Cassandra’s orbit, he’d kneel for anyone.

My hand lifted, ready to strike—

But the door burst open.

“STOP!”

Cassandra sprinted inside, throwing herself between us.

“If you’re angry, punish me! Dominic doesn’t deserve this!”

“Move,” I ordered.

“No.”

Dominic tried to pull her aside, but she clung to the floor.

“I said move!” I screamed, the fury inside me erupting.

She didn’t move.

My hand came down before I could stop it.

Cassandra cried out as the blow landed, her arm splitting open.

Dominic caught her before she hit the ground, rage contorting every line of his face.

He stared at me like I was a stranger.

Then he carried her out without looking back.

The door slammed.

Silence swallowed the room.

I stared at my trembling hands—stained with her blood—and the hollow ache in my chest spread until I could hardly breathe.