Seraphina Vale – POV
People say I was born lucky.
I was born into the Vale family — a name that opens doors before you even touch the handle. A name that makes people stand straighter when they shake your hand. A name that built skylines and crushed competitors without mercy.
But I wasn't born into love.
I was born into expectations.
The Vale estate sits on a hill overlooking the city — white marble, iron gates, and security cameras tucked discreetly into corners like silent watchers. I grew up inside those walls, surrounded by luxury so excessive it almost felt artificial.
Yet the only thing I ever truly needed was my brother.
Adrian Vale.
He's five years older than me. When I was little, I thought he hung the stars.
Our parents were always busy — board meetings, charity galas, endless business trips. I don't remember bedtime stories from my mother. I don't remember my father teaching me how to ride a bike.
I remember Adrian.
He was the one who tied my shoelaces when I cried because I couldn't get them right.
The one who stood outside my classroom on my first day of school, even though he had his own classes to attend.
The one who punched a boy in middle school for calling me pretty.
I was eleven.
The boy transferred schools the following semester.
I didn't ask questions.
Adrian has always been… intense.
Even as a child, he spoke like an adult. Calm. Controlled. Certain. While other boys played video games, Adrian sat in my father's study, listening to financial reports with unsettling focus.
At twelve, he was already being told:
"You're the man of this family."
And he believed it.
Everything that belonged to the Vale family would be his one day.
The house.
The company.
The legacy.
And me.
Though I didn't understand that part yet.
I work at Vale Holdings now. Not because I have to — I could live comfortably without lifting a finger — but because Adrian insisted.
"You shouldn't be idle," he told me the day I graduated university. "If you're going to carry the Vale name, you should understand what it costs."
He said it gently.
He always speaks gently to me.
Others aren't so fortunate.
At work, he's ruthless. Employees fear him. Executives triple-check their reports before meetings. Investors tread carefully around his words.
But with me?
He softens.
He always has.
Too much, maybe.
I didn't notice how strange it was until recently.
"Miss Vale."
I looked up from the documents on my desk to see Daniel — the new intern — standing in front of me. He was nervous, clutching a file to his chest like it was a shield.
"Yes?" I smiled politely.
He swallowed. "I—I was wondering if you'd like to get coffee sometime. Outside of work."
Oh.
I blinked.
It wasn't the first time a man had asked me out. I'm not naïve. I know how I look. I know what the Vale surname adds to the equation.
But Daniel seemed… sincere.
He was kind during meetings. He didn't stare at me like I was an acquisition opportunity. He treated me normally.
And that was rare.
Before I could answer, my office phone buzzed.
I frowned. Internal line.
Only one person uses that.
I picked up. "Yes?"
Silence.
Then Adrian's voice.
"Who's in your office?"
My fingers tightened around the receiver.
"How do you know someone's here?"
Another pause.
"I asked a question, Seraphina."
His tone wasn't angry.
Just controlled.
"It's just an intern," I replied lightly. "He brought files."
There was a shift in the air — even through the phone, I felt it.
"Send him away."
I glanced at Daniel, who was waiting nervously.
"He just got here," I said softly. "It'll only take a minute."
A beat.
Then:
"Now."
The line went dead.
I stared at the phone for a long moment before setting it down.
Daniel gave me a confused look. "Is everything okay?"
I forced a smile. "I'm sorry. Something urgent came up. Maybe another time?"
His face fell slightly, but he nodded. "Of course."
He left.
I told myself Adrian was just being protective.
He always has been.
The next morning, Daniel's desk was empty.
I asked HR casually where he was.
"Oh," the woman said awkwardly, "his internship was terminated."
"Terminated?" My heart skipped. "Why?"
"Performance issues."
That didn't make sense. He'd only been here two weeks.
I stood frozen in the hallway, a strange chill creeping up my spine.
It's just coincidence.
That's what I told myself.
But as I walked toward the executive floor, toward the office where my brother ruled like a quiet king, I couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted.
Adrian looked up when I entered.
His dark eyes softened instantly.
"There you are."
He stood, walked around his desk, and adjusted the sleeve of my blazer like he always does when it's slightly crooked.
"You shouldn't let strangers linger around you," he said quietly.
"They're not strangers. They work here."
"They're men."
His fingers brushed my wrist as he stepped back.
The touch lingered a second too long.
My pulse fluttered strangely.
He noticed.
He always notices.
"Did you need something?" he asked gently.
I searched his face.
Perfect composure. Calm. Controlled.
Untouchable.
I almost asked about Daniel.
But something in his gaze stopped me.
Instead, I shook my head.
"No. I just came to say good morning."
His lips curved faintly.
"Good girl."
The words were soft.
Affectionate.
And yet—
For the first time in my life, they didn't feel entirely safe.
I used to think I was the luckiest girl in the world.
Born into power.
Protected by a brother who would burn cities for me.
But lately…
I've started to wonder.
What if the only thing more dangerous than being unprotected…
Is being protected too much?
And what if the person guarding the cage…
Is the one who built it?