The Hockey. Stars Fake Bride

Seraphina’s POV The Blackthorn Manor was completely silent except for the loud ticking of the antique clock standing in the hallway outside the West Wing. Moonlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the polished wooden floor. My fingers stopped just above a black leather folder lying neatly in the middle of the desk. PROJECT VALE The silver letters caught the moonlight, my heart skipped a beat. Vale? My family name. Why would my surname be written on a file inside Caspian Blackthorn’s private study? I reached toward it. “What are you looking for, Seraphina?” My hand froze, every muscle in my body turned rigid. I closed my eyes for a brief second before opening them again. I didn’t have to turn around. I knew that voice, cold and Impossible to read. “I asked you a question.” His voice carried neither anger nor surprise. It was steady, as though he had expected to find me here. Slowly, I pulled my hand away from the folder before turning around. Caspian Blackthorn stood near the doorway. His black coat was still draped over his broad shoulders, tiny drops of rain glistened under the light from the fireplace. One hand rested in his pocket while the other hung loosely by his side. His pale grey eyes settled on me. They reminded me of a winter morning before the first storm. “I… couldn’t sleep,” I said quietly. “So you decided to ignore the only rule I repeated twice.” I swallowed. “The door was unlocked.” “It was.” He walked into the room. His footsteps were slow and measured, echoing across the wooden floor. “I don’t leave doors unlocked by accident.” He stopped on the opposite side of the desk. “I leave them unlocked when I need answers.” I frowned. “What does that mean?” “It means I wanted to know whether your curiosity would outweigh your judgment.” His expression remained unreadable. “It did.” A spark of irritation rose inside me. “I wasn’t trying to cause trouble.” “No.” His gaze shifted briefly to the folder. “You were looking for something.” “My family’s name is on that file.” “I know.” “You expected me to pretend I didn’t see it?” “I expected you to remember the agreement you signed.” “I remember every word.” “Then you remember this room is off limits.” I folded my arms. “I also remember signing that agreement because my father died owing you money.” His expression never changed. “Correct.” “I gave up my apartment.” “Yes.” “My job.” “Yes.” “My life as I knew it.” “You agreed to stay here for one year.” “I agreed because I had no choice.” “There is always a choice.” I let out a bitter laugh. “Not when every option ends the same way.” Silence settled between us. The fire cracked softly behind him. Outside, the wind rattled the old windows. “I signed a contract,” I said. “Not a prison sentence.” “You signed an agreement,” he replied evenly. “I expect both of us to honor it.” I looked straight at him. “I’ve kept my side. You entered the one room I told you not to enter.” “I had a reason.” “Then tell me.” “You were looking at the file.” “My name is on it.” I fired back. I pointed a shaking finger at the thick folder resting beside my hip. “Project Vale. Why is my family name on a file in your study?” “Because I placed it there.” “What are you trying to say?” “I'm saying you ask too many questions.” “I have a right to know what you’re doing with me!” I yelled. “You have no rights here.” He said. His voice was dangerously low now, vibrating in his chest. “Don’t get too brave, it will only make it harder when I punish you.” “I am not scared of you.” “You should be.” He paused, like he was about to say something else. Then he didn't.He just stared at my racing pulse visible on my neck. “Uhm, Caspian…” The words died in my throat the moment raised his hand. “My father borrowed money from you, that is part of the story.” He didn’t answer. Instead, he walked to the desk and rested one hand lightly on the black folder. “I have a question for you.” I nodded cautiously. “Did your father ever tell you why he destroyed your family’s records before the fire?” Confusion spread across my face. “What records?” “The documents, the letters, the photographs, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “I thought you wouldn’t.” My heartbeat quickened. “You knew my father.” “I did.” “What kind of man was he?” For the first time since he entered the room, Caspian didn’t answer immediately. His eyes remained fixed on the folder. Finally, he spoke. “He was a man who spent the last years of his life trying to protect a secret.” My stomach tightened. “What secret?” He looked at me. “The one inside this file.” My gaze dropped to the folder again. “Project Vale.” He nodded once. “You’ve imagined bank records.” I stayed silent. “You’ve imagined contracts.” My pulse quickened. “You’ve imagined proof that your father betrayed someone.” “How do you know what I was thinking?” “I’ve spent a long time studying people.” he said “I told you never to paint your nightmares.” He said softly, His eyes dropped slowly to my hands gripping his wrist. “Yet, I found charcoal on your fingers yesterday.” “You check my hands you creep?” “I check everything that belongs to me.” He stepped even closer, his strong legs parting mine slightly to step between them as The rough fabric of his trousers brushed intimately against my bare thighs. The scent of iron and cedarwood was completely enveloping me. “You are testing my patience.” “ Please, I beg you, what do you want from me?” I breathed out against his palm. “Everything.” “I have already given you everything.” “Not even close darling.” He whispered. the sound vibrating against my skin. His chest pressed lightly against mine as he inhaled. “You want answers?” He asked. “Yes.” “You want to know what Project Vale is?” “Yes.” I repeated my chest rising and falling rapidly against his shirt. Without breaking eye contact with me He grabbed the heavy black folder from his desk. “Then look at it.” He commanded.. He flipped the folder open right beside my hip. I expected to see financial records. I expected to see bank statements, or the illegal contracts my father left behind. I expected blood money. Instead, my breath completely left my lungs. “These are…” I gasped, my legs starting to wobble. “Your drawings.” “Every single one of my drawings is…. .” “Since you were five years old.” He finished for me. I stared at the pages in horror. My hands shaking as I reached down to touch the papers. Right on top was a drawing of a bird I made in kindergarten. Underneath it was a sketch of my mother I did when I was ten. “How did you get these?” I asked, my voice shaking so badly I could barely form the words. “I collect what is valuable.” “These were in my childhood home. The house burned down.” “I know that.” then He reached down and flipped the page over. Then, I saw the scorched edges of a black charcoal drawing. It was the nightmare I drew three years ago. The one with his cold blue eyes. The one I drew before I ever even knew his name. “No!!.” I whispered. “Yes.” “How do you have this?” I asked, tears stinging my eyes. “I threw this into a fire in my backyard. I watched it burn to ashes.” “Nothing burns unless I allow it to burn.” “You stole these.” “I secured them.” “Why?” I asked. Caspian didn't answer the question immediately. But he leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear as his grip on my throat kept me perfectly still. The heat from his mouth sent a violent shiver down my spine. “You didn't find me by accident, Seraphina,” he whispered, his voice bare of any emotion. “Your father knew this day would come.”