Chapter 9
1571 Words
Lysander’s Point of View
The road stretched out in front of me, but my head wasn’t really there. Seraphina’s voice was like a mosquito buzzing at my ear, sharp and relentless.
“Lysander, I’m telling you, Scarlet cannot be your PA,” she said for maybe the tenth time. “She’s… she’s not the type. You need someone humble, someone who can take instructions from you and obey you. Not her.”
I gripped the steering wheel tighter, but I wasn’t listening to half of what she said. My mind was drifting—sliding back into the past where it didn’t belong. Scarlet. Every time I looked at her, something twisted inside me. Not because of who she was, but because she reminded me so damn much of Katherina. The way she carried herself. The stubborn tilt of her chin. Even the way she looked at me sometimes, like she could see straight through me.
It hurt. And I hated that it did.
“Lysander!” Seraphina’s voice suddenly shot through the haze, panicked.
I jerked my head up just in time to see a woman in the middle of the crosswalk, frozen in shock. My chest lurched. My foot slammed on the brake. Tires screamed against the asphalt as the car shuddered to a stop—just a hair’s breadth away from her.
My heart pounded so hard I could feel it in my throat. My palms were slick on the wheel. And in that split second, the world tilted because I wasn’t seeing a stranger. I was seeing her.
“Katherina…” The name slipped out before I could stop it.
I fumbled with the door handle and shoved it open, stumbling out of the car like a man possessed. The woman was staring back at me, but the closer I got, the clearer it became. It wasn’t her. My breath caught. My vision swam. Just another stranger with the wrong face, the wrong eyes. My mind was playing cruel tricks on me.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!” the woman shouted, fury snapping me back to reality. “Are you drunk? You nearly killed me!”
I dragged a hand over my face, shame burning my skin. “I’m sorry,” I muttered, voice low, hoarse. “I wasn’t paying attention. I’m… sorry.”
She cursed under her breath, gave me a glare sharp enough to cut glass, and stormed off, heels clicking against the pavement. I stood there a second longer, running my hand through my hair, trying to breathe, trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with me.
“Lysander!” Seraphina rushed to my side, clutching my arm. Her eyes were wide, her voice shrill. “What is wrong with you? You almost—”
“Enough!” I snapped, sharper than I intended. “Stop bringing up Scarlet. I don’t want to hear it again. She’s my PA. That’s final. If you’ve got a problem with her, deal with it yourself. But this conversation is over.”
Seraphina’s face flushed, her lips pressing into a thin line. Then she started ranting again, her words tumbling out hot and fast. “You can’t do that! You can’t just keep her around because you don’t want to accept the fact that she doesn’t fit into the role, Lysander. You need to think about how this looks, that woman is troubled, I can see it—”
I turned, walked straight back to the car, and slid behind the wheel. “Get in,” I said, my tone flat, cold.
Her heels clicked against the road as she hurried after me. She climbed in, but she wasn’t done. Not Seraphina. She never was.
“This isn’t fair,” she started again.
I cut her off with a look that could freeze fire. “This is the last time, Seraphina. Don’t bring it up again. Ever.”
Her mouth opened, then closed. She looked away, chewing on her lip, and for the first time in a while, she didn’t have anything to say.
“Seat belt,” I reminded her. My voice had softened, but the command still stood. “I’m taking you home.”
Her head whipped toward me, eyes wide. “Home? What are you talking about? I thought we had plans tonight. Leo’s expecting me. I promised him—”
“I changed my mind.” My hands tightened on the wheel. “I want to be alone tonight. I’ll tell Leo you sent your love.”
Her mouth hung open, stunned, but no sound came out. She just stared at me, like I’d slapped her.
The silence in the car was heavy. For once, she didn’t argue. She just turned to the window, her reflection pale against the glass.
A few minutes later, I pulled up in front of her house. She didn’t move right away. She just sat there, stiff and quiet, before finally unbuckling her seat belt.
She stepped out without a word.
I didn’t wait. The second the door closed, I drove off, the engine’s growl filling the silence she left behind.
By the time I pulled into the driveway of my house, the weight of the night was pressing down on me like a stone. The headlights cut across the front lawn, and before I’d even turned the engine off, one of the guards was already stepping forward.
“Good evening, sir,” he greeted, pulling the door open.
I nodded, forcing a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “Evening.”
He leaned in, grabbed my briefcase from the backseat, then carefully lifted my suit jacket off the passenger seat where I’d tossed it earlier. Always precise, always dependable.
“Thank you,” I murmured as we exchanged a firm nod, the kind that said more than words.
Walking up to the door felt heavier than usual. Maybe it was the silence. Maybe it was the storm sitting in my chest. But the second I pushed the door open, everything shifted.
“Daddy!”
Leo’s little voice cut through the air, and then he was there—tiny feet pounding against the hardwood, a ball of energy flying straight into my arms. I barely had time to crouch before he leapt up, wrapping his arms around my neck.
I scooped him up, his laughter bubbling into my ear. “There’s my boy,” I said, kissing the top of his head, inhaling the warm, sweet smell of his hair. “How was my champ today?”
He giggled, squirming a little. “Nanny took my toys!”
I raised a brow, playing along. “She did, huh? All of them?”
He pouted dramatically. “Yes. She’s mean.”
I chuckled, carrying him toward the living room where his nanny stood, arms folded but smiling in spite of herself. “What’s this I’m hearing? You stealing toys from my son?”
She shook her head, half exasperated. “Sir, he wouldn’t eat his dinner. So I told him no toys until his plate was clean.”
Leo wrinkled his nose. “It was broccoli, Daddy. Yucky.”
I laughed again, the sound coming out easier this time, warm. “Broccoli makes you strong. You’ll thank me one day.”
He didn’t look convinced, but he rested his head against my shoulder, quiet for a beat. Then his small voice lifted again. “Daddy… where’s Aunt Seraphina? She promised she’d come tonight.”
I froze for just a second, then forced myself down to his level. I crouched, setting him gently on his feet so we were eye to eye. His brown eyes were wide, expectant.
“She had something to attend to, Leo,” I told him softly. “She couldn’t make it.”
His face fell. His bottom lip pushed out, his little shoulders slumping. “But I wanted to tell her about school.”
My chest tightened. “What about school?” I asked carefully.
He fiddled with his fingers, voice small. “We’re having Family Day tomorrow. Everyone gets to bring their mom or dad. I was gonna ask Aunt Seraphina to be my mommy just for tomorrow.”
I felt the floor tilt under me. My throat closed up.
“They always laugh at me,” he whispered. “The other kids. They say I don’t have a mother.”
I pulled him into my arms again, holding him so tight he squirmed. “Hey, hey… don’t listen to them, okay? You’ve got me. And I’m not going anywhere. You hear me? You’re not missing anything. You’re perfect, Leo. More perfect than they’ll ever know.”
His little arms wrapped around my neck again, and he nodded against my shoulder. But I felt the sting in my eyes, the way it burned.
I played it off until he got sleepy, until his nanny led him upstairs. I kissed his forehead, whispered goodnight, and watched him disappear down the hall.
Then I walked into my room, closed the door, and let it all go.
My hand slammed against the wall, the sound echoing through the silence. My fist throbbed, but it wasn’t enough. I kicked the wall, hard, again and again, the pain shooting up my leg.
Tears blurred my vision. They spilled hot and angry down my face as I pressed my forehead against the cold wall, my chest heaving.
- Writer
