Chapter 3:The first crack
562 Words
Chapter Three: The First Crack
The morning after her wedding felt no different from any other day in Saraphina’s life — except now, her cage had velvet walls and her prison guard was dangerously attractive.
Sunlight spilled through the tall windows of the mansion, casting soft golden streaks across the black marble floor. It should’ve felt beautiful. It didn’t.
Saraphina stood by the full-length mirror in a silk robe, her bare legs chilled by the morning air. Her wedding ring — a flawless diamond set in platinum — glinted mockingly on her finger.
It felt heavy.
Not with worth.
With warning.
A knock echoed at the door.
“Come in,” she called, already expecting staff. What she got instead was a storm.
Lucian.
Dressed in a black turtleneck and slacks, he looked casual yet lethal. His hair was still damp from a shower, pushed back in a way that exposed the sharp lines of his jaw. He carried a sleek energy — the kind that didn’t scream danger… it whispered it.
He didn’t look at her body. He didn’t need to. His eyes skimmed her face like he was already bored.
“We’re having brunch with the Devereux board,” he said flatly. “Smile, wear something neutral, and don’t say anything unless asked.”
Saraphina blinked, caught between outrage and disbelief.
“I beg your pardon?”
He walked into the room like he owned it — like he owned her.
“The board needs reassurance that this merger doesn’t affect your leadership,” he said. “But they’ll be looking at me, not you. So play your role. Wife. Heir. Accessory.”
She stared at him.
“Did you seriously just call me an accessory?”
He turned his head slightly, a flicker of amusement in his icy gaze.
“Would you prefer 'obligation'?”
She crossed the room in two strides, standing right in front of him. The scent of his cologne — clean, dark, expensive — curled around her like temptation.
“You may be used to controlling people, Lucian Blackthorn,” she said, her voice low, furious, “but I’m not one of your minions or mistresses or murder targets—”
His hand shot up. Not to strike her. Just to hush her. His fingers hovered an inch from her lips.
“You really shouldn’t use words like ‘murder’ so carelessly,” he whispered.
Her breath caught.
For a moment, she forgot why she was angry. All she could feel was heat.
“Why?” she whispered back, eyes locked on his. “Does it hit too close to home?”
A long pause.
His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Maybe.”
Saraphina’s heartbeat stuttered. That response was… dangerous.
She stepped back, needing space. Needing air.
“I’ll be ready in twenty minutes,” she said coolly.
Lucian turned to leave, but stopped at the door.
“You wear anger well,” he said without looking back. “It suits you better than that soft little smile you give the world.”
Then he was gone.
Saraphina exhaled sharply, her hands shaking slightly.
She had survived a narcissistic father, a manipulative stepmother, and a jealous stepsister.
But Lucian?
Lucian wasn’t just cruel.
He was chaos dressed in control.
And she wasn’t sure if she wanted to run from him…
…or make him bleed.
- Writer
