SERAPHINA
The second Father's Porsche disappeared down the long drive, the dining room felt like a cage I finally controlled.
I set my fork down with a soft click and leaned back in my chair, letting the silk robe slip open just enough at the collar. Noah hadn't moved. His knuckles were white around his water glass, eyes fixed on the table like it might save him. The bruise on his jaw from Roman's little tantrum had faded to a faint shadow, but the new tension in his shoulders was all mine.
Noah finally looked up. His dark eyes were wide, that same panicked-rabbit look he'd had when I showed up at his apartment with the iPhone and uniform. Only now he was wearing one of the crisp white button-downs Mrs. Dawn must have unpacked for him last night.
"Relax, Noah," I said, voice sweet enough to rot teeth. "You're not in trouble. Yet." I stood slowly, letting the robe fall open another inch as I circled the table. My bare feet were silent on the marble. When I reached his chair I stopped behind him, close enough that my hip brushed his shoulder.
He flinched.
I rested my hands on the back of his chair, leaning down so my breath brushed the shell of his ear. "My father moved you in without asking me. That's rude, don't you think? But I'm not my father. I believe in communication."
My fingers trailed along the top of the chair until they grazed the back of his neck. His skin was warm. He swallowed hard.
"So let's communicate," I continued. "You live here now. My house. My rules. You eat when I say, you study when I say, you breathe when I say. And if I decide to crawl into your bed again—drunk or sober—you'll stay there until I tell you otherwise. Understood?"
He didn't answer. His breathing had gone shallow.
I slid one hand into his hair and tugged his head back gently, forcing him to look up at me. "I asked you a question."
"Yes," he whispered. His voice cracked.
"Good boy."
I let go and stepped back, tying the robe closed like nothing had happened. "Now. House tour. You only saw the east wing last night. I want you to know exactly where everything is. Especially my room."
I didn't wait for him to agree. I simply turned and walked out of the dining room, heels of my bare feet whispering against the floor. Behind me I heard the scrape of his chair and the quick shuffle of his sneakers as he followed.
He was learning.
NOAH
I followed her because what else was I supposed to do?
The Voss estate was a maze of marble and gold and silence. Seraphina moved through it like she owned the air itself, robe swishing around her thighs, damp hair curling against her back. Every few steps she'd point something out—art gallery, home theater, indoor pool—but her voice was low and amused, like she was daring me to interrupt.
I kept my hands in my pockets so she wouldn't see them shaking.
We ended up in the west wing, the part of the house that felt more her. The hallway smelled like her perfume—sharp vanilla and something darker. She stopped in front of double doors carved with delicate vines and pushed them open.
Her bedroom.
It was bigger than my entire apartment back home. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the gardens. A massive bed with ivory silk sheets dominated the center.
She walked inside and turned, leaning against the foot of the bed with her arms crossed.
"Close the door."
I did. The click sounded final.
Seraphina studied me for a long moment, then smiled that slow, dangerous smile I was starting to recognize as the one that meant trouble.
"I woke up in your bed this morning," she said. Not a question. "Drunk. Wrong room. My mistake." She shrugged one shoulder, robe slipping open again at the collar. "But you didn't push me away, did you? You let me stay there. Arm around me like I belonged."
My face burned. I couldn't lie—not when she was looking at me like that. "I was asleep. I didn't—"
"I know." She pushed off the bed and closed the distance between us until we were only a foot apart. "You smelled like me this morning. My perfume on your shirt. My hair on your pillow." Her eyes dropped to my mouth, then back up. "Did you like it?"
My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I was sure she could feel the vibration.
She reached up and brushed her thumb across the fading bruise on my jaw. The touch was feather-light, almost gentle. Heat coiled low in my stomach, traitorous and terrifying. I hated her. I wanted her to touch me again. I wanted to run.
She must have seen it in my eyes because her smile sharpened.
"On your knees."
I blinked. "What?"
"You heard me." Her voice was velvet over steel. "On your knees, scholarship boy. Say thank you for the new room. For the clothes. For the life my father decided you were worth saving. And say it like you mean it—while you remember exactly whose bed you woke up in this morning."
My legs felt boneless. I sank down slowly until my knees hit the thick carpet. From this angle she looked even taller, even more untouchable. The robe had slipped open another inch. I could see the hollow of her throat, the rapid flutter of her pulse.
Seraphina threaded her fingers back into my hair, not tugging this time—just holding me there.
"Thank you," I whispered.
"Louder."
"Thank you."
She hummed, pleased. "Better. Now tell me you're going to be good for me while you live here. Tell me that the next time I accidentally find my way into your room, you'll keep your hands exactly where I put them."
I closed my eyes. The words tasted like surrender. "I'll be good."
Her fingers tightened just enough to sting. "Good boys get rewards, Noah. Bad boys get reminded who owns them. Choose wisely."
She let go and stepped back.
I stayed on my knees, breathing hard, staring at the carpet while my mind spun in a thousand directions.
Seraphina walked to her vanity, picked up a tube of lip gloss, and applied it like I wasn't even there. When she turned back, her lips were shiny and dangerous.
"Get up. We have school tomorrow. You'll ride with me in the morning. And Noah?" She tilted her head, eyes gleaming. "If you tell anyone about our little arrangement—your mom, my Dad, even Mrs. Dawn—I'll make sure Roman's next video of you goes viral. Understood?"
I nodded, throat too tight to speak.
She smiled sweetly. "Welcome to the family."
Then she sauntered past me toward the door, robe fluttering like a victory flag, leaving me kneeling in the middle of her bedroom with the scent of her perfume wrapped around me like chains.
I didn't know how long I stayed there after she left.
Long enough for my knees to ache.
Long enough to realize the worst part wasn't the fear anymore.
It was how badly I wanted her to come back and put her hands in my hair again.