~ Seraphina ~
The morning light in the Vale penthouse was always the same: cold, expensive, and unforgiving. It hit the white marble of the breakfast island with a clinical brightness that made my eyes ache. This was the "perfect" life I had curated for seven years—a museum of high-end finishes and low-grade dread. I sat across from Adrian, my fingers curled around a porcelain teacup. The liquid inside was lukewarm, a bitter Earl Grey that matched the stagnant air in the room, but I didn't care. I was too busy maintaining the mask—the practiced, serene expression of the perfect wife who was supposed to be oblivious to the fact that her world was currently a minefield.
My phone, resting on the silk placemat next to my hand, buzzed. It was a short, sharp vibration that felt like a needle p
