Exposure didn’t arrive with chaos.
It arrived with structure.
Seraphina realized that early the next morning, when Lucien’s calendar filled itself without his assistant’s input. Meetings appeared where none had existed the night before. Calls were scheduled with people who never requested time unless they expected blood or profit.
Sometimes both.
She stood by the window of the penthouse, phone pressed to her ear, listening to a call she hadn’t expected to receive.
“Yes,” she said calmly. “I understand.”
A pause.
“No, I’m not denying my history,” she continued. “I’m contextualizing it.”
Another pause.
“If you’re asking whether I regret aligning myself with Lucien Blackwood, the answer is no.”
She ended the call and exhaled slowly.
Lucien watched her from across the room. He hadn’
