Early the next morning, I was jolted awake by the noise downstairs. I rushed to the hallway on the second floor and peered down. Elara was kneeling in the living room, her eyes rimmed with red.

“I’ll never get married!”

Magnus, Lysander’s father, cracked his whip against the ground, his voice thundering with rage, “Elara, you’re in no position to make demands of the Thorne, of me.”

Lysander stepped forward, his tone cautious. “Dad, please. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

Hearing his words, Magnus flew into a fury. He glared at Elara and brought the whip down directly on her. She let out a scream of pain, and just as the second lash was about to fall, Lysander suddenly lunged forward, shielding Elara with his own body.

Elara trembled, her voice thick with anguish. “Brother! Does it hurt? I’m so sorry. This is my entire fault for putting you through it. I won’t get married... unless you are my groom…”

Magnus looked pale with fury, and snapped sharply, “Hold your tongue!” He poked Lysander in the chest, speaking with deadly seriousness, “Lysander! You and Seraphina are perfect match. Are you going to tear it down with your own hands?”

Lysander tilted his head back, meeting my gaze directly. His brow slowly furrowed, a sudden realization dawning on him, “Seraphina, come down.”

Although I didn’t understand why, I instinctively walked over to Lysander’s side. Lysander pressed my hand down, whispered in my ear, “Is it you?”

I didn’t realize what happened until Lysander blamed, “You’re going too far.”

He suspected me of tipping off last night. Otherwise, Magnus wouldn’t rush over early this morning to confront Elara.

I was furious and denied immediately, “It’s not me. I have no idea what you’re talking about…”

But before I could finish my words, Lysander had already turned his head slightly, gagging me with a sudden, gentle kiss.

I froze in place, a hint of confusion flashing in my eyes. This was the first time that Lysander kissed me since they’d started dating. I didn’t know why, but found out the answer soon enough.

Lysander turned to Elara and said in a low voice, “The husband Dad chose for you... isn’t bad at all. Look at me. I’m truly happy now.”

I found his lips curled downward and his gaze resentful, as if he were enduring endless restraint. I finally understood the meaning of his kiss. He just couldn’t have the heart to watch Elara getting hurt because of her stubbornness. A bitterly smirk crossed my face.

As Elara once again collapsed and let out a low sob, Lysander forcibly pulled me into his embrace, deepening the kiss. I struggled desperately to push him away, but it was in vain.

Magnus let out a heavy sigh and left. A farce finally came to an end, and Lysander carried Elara to the hospital. I was left behind alone. Still, that’s fine, peaceful and serene.

Sitting in the living room, I flipped through Elara’s social media again. One of her paintings caught my eyes. It looked exactly like my sister’s work.

In the evening, I was having dinner when Lysander finally returned home. He suddenly grabbed me, a sharp pain spreading all the way up to my wrist.

“What are you doing? Let me go…” I struggled to break free, only to meet his cold glare.

Lysander hurled a accusation at me, “You’ve been constantly being awkward ever since Elara returned home. You’re her sister-in-law. Can’t you just be a little kinder to her?”

I stared straight at him and suddenly laughed. This was the first time Lysander talked a lot to me. I couldn't even keep track of how many words he'd said. Yet he was doing it all for Elara…

Lysander angrily denounced, “Why are you laughing? You have to know Elara is being detained. She’s been pampered since she was a child. How could she endure this hardship!”

I was unusually calm: “Lysander, she is accused of theft!”

Lysander took a deep breath, “So…did you make a confession?”

I shot back, my voice trembling with rage: “‌On what grounds do you think it's me?‌ The fact is she stole the painting from my sister. She deserved to be caught.”

Lysander took a deep breath, forcing his temper down. He did his utmost to remain calm, though his eyes remained cold, “Don’t get excited.”

He pressed his weight down on me. I was completely shackled beneath him, unable to move an inch.

“Let me go!” I screamed.

Lysander held me tighter, his grip like iron. He enunciated every word with chilling clarity, “Seraphina, you just need to go to the police station and admit that you gave her that painting.”

Fury surged through me at his audacious request. Without the slightest hesitation, I sank my teeth into his neck, tearing into his flesh with all my might!

Lysander hissed sharply in pain. Even as blue veins bulged on his neck, he refused to let go. His resolve only hardened, “Seraphina, you absolutely have to go.”

“What if I say no? ‌My sister passed away, but Elara was shameless enough to steal from a dead person.” I glared at him menacingly, “Over my dead body I'll go.”

Lysander twitched his brows and fell into a long, heavy silence. After a while, he exhaled slowly, “Seraphina, don’t push me too far.”

He sighed, his tone both firm and filled with pity. “I know you won’t bring yourself to die. It hasn't been easy for us to get here. ‌How could you even leave me.‌ Stop fussing! Let’s go to the police station, shall we?”

I froze, snapping my head up to look at him in utter disbelief.

He clearly knew...how much I love him. He knew better than anyone else, yet he weaponized my love against me. He was twisting the knife in my heart, leaving me to bleed out while he stood there unscathed. I tried desperately to stay calm.

I closed my eyes and forced a soft, broken smile, “Yes, I'm not going to commit suicide. But, I’m not for you but to leave you and start my life over again.”

Lysander sighed with relief, misunderstanding my words entirely, “Now we can go…”

As he loosened his grip, I seized the chance to kick his groin hard, finally breaking free from his embrace.

I looked straight at him and carefully enunciated: “But I won’t go either.”

Lysander turned pale and trembled slightly. He nearly lost his balance from the intense pain. His anger could no longer be contained, “Seraphina, you’ve gone too far.”

He closed eyes and took a deep breath to suppress his anger. But, it was futile. Lysander clenched his hands tightly into fists, the blue veins standing out on the backs of his hands.

“Lock Seraphina away.” he commanded coldly.

He turned around and strode toward the door, throwing one last order over his shoulder, “Tell me when you’re willing to say yes.”