The Hand from the Shadows
451 Words
The freezing water of the Atlantic Ocean was a silent, crushing weight. Seraphina’s lungs burned, begging for air that wasn't there. Above the surface, the lightning flashed one last time, illuminating Adrian’s cold, victorious silhouette on the cliff before he walked away—leaving her to the graveyard of the sea.
I can't die like this... she screamed internally. Not while he still breathes.
Just as the darkness began to swallow her consciousness, a powerful light cut through the murky water. A hand, strong and steady, grabbed her arm. It pulled her upward, dragging her back from the edge of death.
When Seraphina finally opened her eyes, she wasn't in heaven or hell. She was in a room that smelled of expensive cologne and antiseptic. The walls were sleek, modern, and screamed of unimaginable wealth.
"You have been asleep for three days," a deep, melodic voice spoke from the corner of the room.
Seraphina turned her head painfully. A man sat there, silhouetted against the moonlight. He was Julian—a man whose name was whispered in fear and respect across the global business world.
"Who... who are you? Why did you save me?" she rasped, her throat feeling like it was filled with glass.
Julian stood up, his expensive suit perfectly tailored. He looked at her not with pity, but with a calculating interest. "I don't save people out of kindness, Seraphina. I save investments. And a woman with your eyes—eyes that burn with that much hatred—is a very valuable investment."
He walked to her bedside and threw a newspaper on her lap. The headline read: "MALHOTRA HEIRESS TRAGICALLY DROWNS ON WEDDING NIGHT; GRIEVING HUSBAND INHERITS BILLIONS."
Seraphina’s hands shook as she saw Adrian’s fake, crying face in the photo.
"The world thinks you are dead," Julian said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Adrian thinks you are fish food. You have no name, no money, and no face anymore."
Seraphina looked into the mirror Julian held up. Her face was covered in bandages. The rocks had been cruel.
"I want him to suffer," she hissed, her voice cold and sharp. "I want to take back my empire and crush him under my heel."
Julian smiled—a dangerous, predatory smile. "Then the naive Seraphina must stay dead. From today, you will be reborn. I will give you a new face, a new name, and the power to destroy anyone in your way. But in return, you belong to my game."
Seraphina didn't hesitate. She reached out and took his hand. "Deal. Make me a Queen... so I can start the strike-back."
- Writer
