Lila hadn’t exaggerated. Her wedding was a spectacle—grand enough to outshine the one I’d had with Silas in my past life. The ballroom was overflowing, glittering with chandeliers, champagne, and guests that mattered. Even a state senator had come to offer his congratulations.

My own wedding hall sat at the opposite end of the corridor. Smaller. Quieter. But intimate in a way that mattered to me more.

When I asked Lucien if he wanted to invite anyone from his circle, his answer had been simple. “Invite whoever you want. As for me—only family. I don’t have many friends.”

That had struck something in me. Because I didn’t either.

So, in the end, only my closest girlfriends and Father were invited. He would watch me wed first, then hurry across the hall to watch Lila’s grand affair.

I expected my wedding to feel small, maybe even lonely. Instead, it was nothing I imagined.

The Blackwells weren’t cold, calculating, or arrogant like my father, nor shallow and preening like Lila. They were warm. Welcoming. Gentle, just like Lucien. And somehow, what should have been plain felt cozy. Real. Happy.

When the officiant’s voice rang out—“Take Seraphina Dusk as your loyal wife, to never abandon her, to support her in poor or rich. Mr. Blackwell, you may kiss your bride”—I braced myself.

Lucien leaned in, close enough that I felt my heart stumble and my cheeks heat. His breath brushed mine. “May I?” he whispered.

I nodded. He kissed me lightly, reverently, as if I were something precious.

…

“Have you packed already?” Lucien asked later as he drove me back to the Dusk mansion. We had agreed I would move out today.

“Yes, just a few boxes. I don’t own much,” I said with a small smile.

But when we pulled into the driveway, we ran straight into Lila and Silas.

“Honey,” Lila said, her voice dripping with false sweetness as she leaned into Silas’s arm, “this is my stepsister and her… husband.”

Her gaze slid to Lucien, and she gave a cruel little laugh. “Have you heard of the Blackwells? This is that Blackwell—the one who went poor. Couldn’t even afford to buy my sister a wedding dress. Honestly, I feel sorry for them. Maybe we should give them some of our money. As charity.”

The insult burned hotter than any she’d thrown before. She wasn’t sneering at just me anymore—she was sneering at Lucien.

I stepped forward, seized her wrist, and yanked her around. “Apologize.”

She jerked, trying to pull free. “Get off me. I’m only telling the truth.”

“I said—apologize.” My voice came out sharper than steel. Fury flared hot and unrelenting. “You’ve crossed a line, Lila. My husband and I are not yours to mock.”

Her eyes widened, panic flickering beneath the bravado. “How dare you? Which part did I say wrong? That the Blackwells are broke? Or that he couldn’t afford your dress?”

“I won’t ask again.” My grip tightened on her wrist. “Apologize to Lucien. Now.”

“Miss Dusk.” Silas finally stepped in, voice smooth, his tone that of a mafia king who always played diplomat. “If my wife has offended you in any way, then please—allow me to apologize on her behalf.”

I smiled, releasing Lila at last. “Okay.”

Silas’s practiced expression froze. “What?”

“You said you’d apologize on her behalf,” I said calmly, my voice steady. “So go ahead. Apologize to my husband.”

Silas hadn’t expected that. His smile faltered, stretching into something stiff, unnatural. Still, he turned to Lucien. “Sorry. My wife spoke out of turn. Since you and I are brothers-in-law now, surely you won’t hold it against her. She’s… straightforward.”

“Understood,” Lucien replied, his arm tightening protectively around my waist. His voice was smooth but edged with steel. “But let’s hope we never hear words like that from Mrs. Vane again.”

Lila’s face burned with fury, but I didn’t miss the flicker in her eyes—the quick, wary glance she gave Silas, like she was afraid of him.

After Lucien helped me move, we began our honeymoon. I’d suggested a quiet resort, something simple, given the Blackwell family’s financial state. But Lucien insisted on Bora Bora.

We landed at sunset, the sky painted pink and gold, the ocean glimmering like fire. For the first time since my rebirth, I felt… at peace. Like here, on this island, I could let go of every fear and burden.

“Come,” Lucien murmured, guiding me forward. “I booked us a suite.”

The word alone made my cheeks flush. Tonight would be my first night with Lucien Blackwell. I told myself I wasn’t nervous, but my racing heart betrayed me.

The moment we stepped into the suite, the atmosphere shifted. The room was ours alone—private, hushed, intimate. A bed scattered with red roses waited for us, hinting at everything that was about to happen.

Lucien took my hand and pulled me closer. “May I?” he asked softly, his eyes searching mine.

I nodded, whispering, “You don’t have to ask permission every time…”

And yet, the fact that he did—it made him the gentlest man I’d ever met.

His kiss was not gentle. Not this time. It was heated, urgent, consuming. My breath hitched as he claimed my mouth, and in a blur, we were falling back onto the bed, roses crushed beneath us.

Lucien looked down at me, his eyes burning, his fingers firm on my waist. The intensity of his gaze made me turn my head shyly, even though I wasn’t pulling away.

I shouldn’t have been shy. I’d been a wife, a mother. But here I was, blushing like a girl of eighteen.

“You don’t want this?” Lucien asked, his voice hesitant.

“No…” I turned back, meeting his eyes. “I’m just nervous.”

His lips quirked, almost boyish. “I am too.”

We both laughed then, the tension easing, though the fire between us didn’t dim.

He leaned closer, murmuring against my lips, “We shouldn’t waste another second.”

I didn’t answer with words. I kissed him back, surrendering to the moment, to him.

I had expected this marriage to be formal, distant—a business arrangement, nothing more. But in that bed, with Lucien Blackwell above me, burning with quiet passion, I realized how wrong I’d been.

Who would have imagined the calm, cold Lucien could be this hot, this devastating, this heartbreakingly sexy?

…

Life after the wedding turned out to be calmer than I expected. To my surprise, Lila hadn’t shown her face at my new home with Lucien. She hadn’t contacted me, hadn’t sent a single sneer my way.

Then, I heard the news—Lila was about to give birth.

It hadn’t even been a year since the wedding, and Lila was pregnant. From Father’s words, her due date was set for the first of next month.

If my calculations were correct, Lila must have conceived just after the wedding. There wouldn’t have been time for IVF treatments, especially considering Silas’s… condition.

I knew about Silas’s infertility from my past life. We’d gone to the doctor together when I couldn’t get pregnant. After tests, we’d learned the truth—Silas couldn’t father a child without medical intervention.

How could Silas—almost infertile Silas—have gotten Lila pregnant so quickly? Without any medical help?

The answer was almost too obvious, and yet, I refused to let myself think that way.

It’s not that I didn’t believe Lila was capable of such a thing, but if she truly dared to carry another man’s child just to please Silas Vane, I fear he would seek revenge on the entire Dusk family.

…

A month passed, and still, there was no happy announcement from Lila. The birth should have happened by now.

Something was wrong. But I wasn’t prepared to concern myself with her life.

Then, to my surprise, Lila called two days later. She was back at the Dusk mansion and wanted to meet me. She missed me, she said.

It felt odd. I had no idea why she would suddenly reach out. But curiosity tugged at me, and eventually, I decided to return home.

When I opened the front door, I found Lila sitting on the sofa, cradling a newborn in her arms.

The baby cried loudly, the sound filling the room. But as Lila stood to greet me, I caught a clearer glimpse of the baby’s face. And my breath caught in my throat.

The child had bright blue eyes.

Bright blue.

That was genetically impossible. Unless… Unless the baby wasn’t Silas’s like I’d predicted.