Chapter 3: The Man at the Door
722 Words
Seraphina's heart beat faster and faster, making it hard for her to think clearly.
For a moment, she simply stared at the door.
Lucien! Of all nights, why did he have to come now?
She turned her eyes toward the two suitcases standing beside the bed.
She had been seconds away from leaving, seconds away from putting distance between herself and the man who had shattered her world.
Another knock sounded.
"Seraphina?"
His voice was calm, but there was a hint of impatience beneath it.
She quickly wiped the tears from her face.
"Just a minute."
The room felt suffocating.
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop hearing Valeria's words. You got your tubes tied for me.
The betrayal burned just as much now as it had outside his office.
Taking a deep breath, Seraphina opened the door.
Lucien stood there in a black shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He was tall. He was handsome. Everything about him looked familiar—the way he stood, the shape of his jaw, the curve of his lips. But now, all of that feels wrong. It felt like a lie. Something in his eyes had changed. His gray eyes narrowed, sharp and cold, as if he was seeing her for the first time.
"You've been crying." His voice was low, flat—not a question, but a statement.
Seraphina forced a smile, her lips trembling at the edges. "I'm fine."
Lucien stepped inside without waiting for permission. The moment he crossed the room, his gaze landed on the suitcases—two large bags, fully packed, sitting by the door like they were ready to leave forever.
His expression darkened. His jaw tightened. "What is this?"
Seraphina curled her hands into fists, her nails stinging her palms. She forced her brain to work. Think. Just come up with something—anything—to say.
"I'm visiting my mother for a few days." The lie came out smoother than she expected—steady, calm, almost believable.
But Lucien's eyes remained fixed on the luggage. He didn't blink. Didn't move. Just stared at the bags like he was counting them, measuring them, seeing right through her.
"With all your clothes?" he asked quietly. "For a few days?"
"Yes."
Silence stretched between them. Through the mate bond, she could feel pieces of what he was feeling—confusion, suspicion, annoyance. But there was no guilt. No regret. Not even a hint of remorse for what she had overheard. That realization made her chest ache.
Finally, Lucien looked at her. "Why didn't you tell me?"
The question almost made her laugh. Why didn't she tell him? The irony was unbearable. Instead, she just shrugged. "You've been busy."
Something flickered across his face. Then he sighed. "I know I've been occupied lately."
Occupied. Was that what he called spending time with Valeria? Seraphina bit the inside of her cheek. She couldn't do this. Not tonight. Not while her heart was still bleeding.
Lucien stepped closer. Instinctively, she stepped back. It was a small movement, barely noticeable. But he noticed. His eyes narrowed. For the first time, uncertainty appeared on his face.
"Seraphina." Her name sounded different from him now—almost cautious. "What happened?"
A thousand answers rushed through her mind. I heard everything. I know about Valeria. I know what you did. But none of the words reached her lips. Because if she spoke now, she might break. And she refused to break in front of him. So she simply shook her head. "Nothing."
Lucien stared at her for several seconds. Then he did something unexpected—he reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. That familiar gesture nearly destroyed the walls she had spent the last hour building around her heart.
"You've been acting strange all day," he said quietly.
Seraphina lowered her gaze. If he looked into her eyes long enough, he would see the truth. He would see the pain, the betrayal, the heartbreak. And she wasn't ready for that conversation. Not yet.
Suddenly, Lucien's phone rang. The sharp vibration filled the room. He glanced at the screen, and his expression immediately changed.
Seraphina didn't miss the name displayed there. Valeria.
The room went silent. And for the first time that night, Lucien looked genuinely caught off guard.
- Writer
