Seraphina's Point Of View
The foyer still hummed with the aftershocks of the night's chaos, the scent of expensive floor wax and Lucian's lingering cologne mixing into a cocktail that made my head spin. I remained rooted to my spot, watching the door where my parents… God, saying that made my stomach do a backflip were currently working through twenty-five years of trauma.
Rose vibrated with nervous energy beside me, bouncy and frantic. She paced a tiny circle on the marble, her heels clicking like a metronome against the stone. Each tap seemed to measure the seconds ticking by, a countdown to something I couldn't quite name.
"I just can't imagine Lydia's face when she finds out," Rose said, stopping abruptly to look at me with a grin that was part malicious, part pure glee. "When she realizes that by selling you off to settle a debt, she literally handed you back to your billionaire, mafia-prince father on a silver platter."
