The garden was quiet, almost unnaturally so, tucked behind the marble walls of my house. I liked it that way—no cameras, no assistants, no one to pretend for. Just lavender and jasmine, air thick with calm I could almost control… until it wasn't.
A sharp tightening in my chest made me stagger. My inhaler wasn't in my hand. Panic shot through me like electricity, each breath a battle.
"Looking for this?"
I froze, my lungs catching in terror. Slowly, I turned.
He was there.
Tall, unnervingly calm, impossibly composed. Black jacket draped casually over his shoulders, hair falling just enough to shadow those golden-brown eyes that pierced right through me. Every movement spoke of danger, control, and secrets no one alive dared to touch.
He held out a silver inhaler. "You shouldn't run without it," he said, voice calm but commanding.
I snatched it, finally drawing a steady breath, but relief didn't dull the sharp tension his presence left behind. Something about him made my instincts scream warning and curiosity all at once.
"I… thank you," I managed, voice tight.
He didn't answer, only tilted his head, studying me like a puzzle. And then, as suddenly as he appeared, he was gone—vanishing into the shadows as if he'd never been there.
I sank onto the cold stone bench, chest heaving. A stranger. Dangerous. And for reasons I couldn't name, my blood refused to settle.
⸻
Back in my room, I grabbed my phone before my thoughts could spiral further. I needed someone I could speak freely to—someone who wouldn't judge, who wouldn't interfere. Only one person came to mind: Tori. My best friend, the only one who saw me without pretense.
"Hey," I said, voice trying to steady itself. "You won't believe what just happened."
"What now?" Tori's voice was sharp, probing—the way she always knew when something was off.
"I… almost passed out," I admitted, leaning back on the bed. "And then… this man appeared. Out of nowhere. Gave me my inhaler. And—Tori, he's unlike anyone I've ever met."
There was a pause. "Unbelievable. Dangerous and handsome, I'm guessing?"
"Exactly that," I exhaled. "And worse… I can't stop thinking about him."
"Hmm," she said, low and teasing. "I want details, but also… don't get yourself killed."
I let out a small, dry laugh. "I'm not even sure I know his name."
"Sounds like trouble," Tori said, tone half-laughing, half-warning. "Just be careful, Seraphine. He's clearly not ordinary."
I didn't reply. I stared out the window at the garden, at the shadows that still lingered there, the faint echo of his presence.
⸻
I am Seraphine Kane. Not the sweet girl people think they know. Not the actress smiling for cameras or the model posing for magazines. I am sharp, cold, unflinching. I live by my own rules, trust almost no one, and answer freely only to Tori.
And yet… the stranger in the garden unsettled me in ways I hadn't expected.
I hadn't recovered from the encounter when my father's voice echoed down the corridor, sharp, deliberate. "Seraphine."
I marched toward him, chest still tight, heart still racing from the stranger in the garden. The man from before leaned against the marble wall, expression unreadable. His golden-brown eyes followed my every step, calm, unsettling.
"You," my father began slowly, "and him…" He gestured to Dante. "…will be bound by an arrangement. One year. A trial, nothing more. If it works, we'll see where it leads."
I stopped mid-step. "Wait. What? You want me… to marry him?" I asked, disbelief sharp in my voice. My hands fisted at my sides. "You can't just decide that for me!"
My father's smile was calm, measured, like he'd dealt with this reaction a thousand times before. "He has agreed. It's a contract—one year. If it works, you may continue… or part ways. Your choice."
I blinked, speechless for a moment, then fire ignited inside me. "Choice? You call this choice? You—" I turned to Dante, eyes flashing, "—agreed without even asking me what I want?"
Dante didn't move. Didn't blink. Didn't give me anything to read. Calm. Dangerous. Unyielding.
"I've been watching you," my father said, voice deliberate. "He's… what you need. A match, in every way. One year. You'll see. You'll learn."
I laughed, a short, sharp sound. "Learn? From him? You've completely lost it. I don't need a match. I don't need influence. I don't need protection. I've been surviving just fine."
"You don't know what's best for yourself," my father said, his patience thinning, though his smile never left.
"Then perhaps I do," I shot back. "And you clearly don't know what I can handle. You think this intimidates me? That I'll just bend and agree?" I leaned closer, voice low, cold, slicing the distance between us. "I've dealt with worse than contracts, worse than men like him, worse than your ridiculous games. And yet here I am. Breathing."
Dante shifted slightly but remained silent, just observing, like a predator watching prey—and yet… I felt no fear. Only the fire in my chest burning hotter.
My father sighed, exasperation creeping into his tone. "Seraphine… you will go through with it. One year. For both our families. It is final."
I stepped back, shoulders straight, eyes locked on him, heart racing—but not from fear. "One year," I repeated slowly, savoring the word like a warning. "You do realize you're making a mistake if you think I'll play by your rules. And you," I said, turning sharply to Dante, "don't think I'm agreeing just because you're… silent and mysterious. You've just been given the honor of seeing how far I'll push before I snap."
"Send the contract application to my house, I'll think about it
."
For a heartbeat, he said nothing. Just those piercing golden-brown eyes measuring me. I didn't flinch. Instead, I squared my shoulders.
"You're calm," I said finally, a hint of smirk in my voice. "But that doesn't scare me. Don't think silence makes you untouchable."
He tilted his head ever so slightly. And in that small movement, I understood something crucial: he didn't need to speak to assert control. But neither did I.
I clenched my fists, chest pounding, and stormed past them, slamming the door to my room behind me. My car keys rattled in my hand as I muttered through teeth clenched with fury. I needed air. Needed distance. Needed space from this absurd arrangement.
Sliding into the driver's seat, engine roaring to life, I didn't even glance back at the estate. It shrank behind me—grand, suffocating, controlled. I drove without thought of destination, only needing to escape the absurdity of the situation, even if just for a moment.
Somewhere deep inside, I knew this wasn't over. That this arrangement—one year, one contract—wasn't a simple deal. And for the first time in a long time, I realized I might enjoy testing the limits of this stranger who had walked into my life… and my chest still hadn't settled.