The first attack came quietly.
Seraphina didn’t notice it at breakfast. The penthouse was bathed in soft morning light, the city stretching endlessly below, indifferent to the lives unfolding above it. She sat at the kitchen island, scrolling absently through her phone while sipping coffee, still replaying the previous night in her mind.
Lucien choosing her.
Not the contract. Not the optics.
Her.
She was still holding onto that warmth when her screen refreshed.
Then again.
Her brows knitted together.
A notification from an unfamiliar news outlet. Then another. And another.
She tapped one.
BLACKWOOD CEO’S “CONTRACT WIFE” QUESTIONED — WHO IS SERAPHINA VALE?
Her stomach dropped.
She opened the article, heart pounding harder with each paragraph. Speculation. Carefully worded insinu
