The Night I Became Her Shadow

​The rainy season in Riverston was endless. ​Clouds rolled with the wind, and the rain poured down in relentless sheets. Inside the ballet studio, a group of little girls in leotards practiced under my guidance. ​"Keep your hands natural. Form an oval with your arms... watch my movements," I instructed softly. ​Outside the glass doors, parents were arriving to pick up their children. They gathered in small groups, whispering about the hottest scandal in the city: The Sterling family has found their long-lost biological daughter. ​"So, Seraphina isn't their real child? No wonder she looks nothing like them." ​"I heard she was adopted from an orphanage. Now that the real heiress is back, her position must be… awkward." ​"Even her fiancé, Julian, doesn't seem to want her anymore." ​"She was just a substitute they used to cope with their grief. A placeholder for a shadow." ​I ignored the sympathetic, prying eyes. Standing tall with pale skin, I was what they called a "bone-deep beauty." My eyes were like autumn water, and my legs were long and slender, exuding an effortless elegance even in a simple black-and-white leotard. ​When the class ended and the last student left, my colleague, Xiao Mei, hurried over. "Sera, how’s your ankle?" ​"It’s fine," I forced a smile. ​"I kept signaling you to rest! Why didn't you?" ​"The parents came for me. If I sat out, someone would’ve complained." I bent over, gently rubbing my right ankle. An old injury from years ago had ended my professional dancing career, and now, it throbbed with a vengeance every time it rained. ​"It’s pouring out there..." Xiao Mei glanced at me. "Is Julian coming to pick you up?" ​I lowered my head, my face hidden. "He’s busy lately. He probably won't have time." ​Xiao Mei went silent. We both knew what he was busy with—accompanying the real Miss Sterling. ​Julian had chased me for years. He knew about my leg pain and used to pick me up every single time it rained. Everyone envied me for having such a wealthy and devoted fiancé. But ever since the biological daughter returned, he had vanished from my life, spending every waking moment with the "true" heiress. ​I left the studio alone. The sky was a misty gray, and the rain was a cold, thick fog. In this remote part of town, getting a cab was nearly impossible. ​I held my umbrella, shivering as the damp wind bit through my thin clothes. Suddenly, the roar of an engine broke the silence. A car surged through the mist, tires screeching as it veered straight toward me. My heart hammered against my ribs as I scrambled back, nearly falling into the wet bushes. ​The car screeched to a halt just inches away. ​"I am so sorry! Are you alright?" The driver scrambled out, gasping as he recognized me. "Miss Sterling?" ​I blinked, the man looked familiar, but I couldn't place him. ​Then, the rear door opened. ​A man stepped out. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored British suit, his presence so cold it felt as though he carried frost and snow in his veins. His eyes were deep and icy, devoid of any warmth. ​He held a black umbrella, his long strides bringing him to me in seconds. As he stood before me, the umbrella tilted, shielding me from the world’s bitterness. ​"Mr. Knight?" My own umbrella had fallen to the ground. ​This was Alaric Knight. Even among the elite families of the capital, he was a man of absolute dominance—unapproachable and predatory. ​Before I could react, he reached out and caught my forearm to steady me. The heat from his palm scorched my skin, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. We were so close I could smell him—a woody fragrance, warm yet icy, sophisticated and restrained. ​"Thank you," I whispered, my voice trembling. ​"You're welcome." He withdrew his hand, his voice thin and cold. "My driver’s mistake. I apologize. Your leg... do you need a hospital?" ​"No, it's an old injury." ​"Miss Sterling, please get in," Alaric’s voice carried an undeniable authority. ​I knew his reputation. People would do anything to get on his good side, and he likely wanted to ensure I wouldn't sue his driver later. I had no choice but to climb into the back of his luxury car. ​The silence inside was suffocating. Then, my phone vibrated. ​"Hello, Dad," I answered. ​"Where are you? Why aren't you here yet?" my adoptive father’s voice boomed with irritation. "I told you to quit that job. It’s embarrassing! People think the Sterling family can’t afford to feed you!" ​Beside me, Alaric Knight stared out the rain-blurred window. His fingers, resting on his knee, suddenly tightened. Seraphina’s situation is truly heartbreaking," Chen sighed as he gripped the steering wheel, glancing at the rearview mirror. "The Sterling family is cold-blooded. They know her leg is injured, yet they didn't even bother to send a driver on a day like this. And that Julian... what a piece of work. Leaving his own fiancée in the rain while he goes off to pick up someone else? It’s beyond pathetic." ​Chen stole a glance at his boss, who sat in the back seat, enveloped in a chilling silence. "Alaric, it’s a pity. You finally managed to get her into the car, but you barely said two words to her." ​"And that man, her father... his words were venomous. They’ve lived together for years, she’s called him 'Dad' her whole life, and yet he doesn't have an ounce of pity for her. She’s earning an honest living, not stealing or begging. What’s wrong with that?" ​Alaric Knight slowly lifted his eyelids, his gaze landing on Chen. "I’m thinking about something." ​"Thinking about how to swoop in while she’s vulnerable? To steal her away from that loser?" ​Ever since Chen got his driver’s license, he had been taught how to drive safely. God only knew how terrified he was when Alaric ordered him to 'stage an accident' just to get close to her! ​To even get a chance to speak to Seraphina, his boss had really gone to extremes... ​Alaric gave him a chilling look. "I’m thinking about why you weren't born a mute." ​Chen immediately shut his mouth, not daring to utter another word. ​Alaric stood by the window later, his expression unreadable. Outside, the wind howled and the rain lashed against the glass, but in his eyes, there was a storm far more violent, as if ten thousand armies were gathering for war. ​The cigarette in his hand remained unlit, already crushed and mangled by his tightening grip.