Valeria's pov
I marched into his office and slammed a handwritten sheet of paper onto the mahogany desk. It was an invoice.
"Nursing you was premium service and costs double my salary. Pay up."
Alaric looked up, his expression a mix of intrigue and irritation. "Send the invoice to accounting. And be careful, Valeria...don't price yourself out of employment."
"I might start charging extra for the attitude," I muttered, pivoting on my heel.
Ugh. That was easy. I expected more arguments or just total nonchalant.
I reached my desk just as Seraphina arrived, draped in designer clothes and carrying bags for the staff. She stopped in front of me, offering a used leather bag. The deep scratches on the side were an insult in calfskin.
"This is your reward for being a good maid last night," she said, her voice dripping with fake grace.
"Rewarded with scratches? How generous of you."
We were mid-glare when Julian Pierce sauntered into the office. He ignored Seraphina completely, walking straight to me. He took my hand and pressed a lingering kiss to my knuckles.
"How have you been, sweet V?"
I saw Seraphina's face turn a delightful shade of purple. Time to play along.
"I've been waiting to see you, dear," I said, batting my eyes until I felt ridiculous.
As soon as Seraphina stomped away, I dropped the act and yanked my hand back. "What are you doing here, Mr. Whatever-Your-Name-Is?"
"There's just something about you. I like women with wit," Julian replied, leaning against my desk.
"There's just something about you, too… like a hard pass." I crossed my arms.
Bzzzt. The intercom crackled.
"Secretary. My office. Now."
I walked in to find Seraphina perched on Alaric's lap.
"I heard you were with a man?" Alaric asked, his eyes dark.
"Why? Are you offering to join?"
Seraphina fiddled with his tie, a smug smirk on her lips. "Sweetheart, I'd hate for you to embarrass yourself trying."
"We were just talking," I replied flatly.
"This is a work environment. Bringing your boyfriend here is not allowed," Alaric snapped.
I looked at him, then at Seraphina's position on his lap. The hypocrisy was loud. "Oh… sure."
"There's a ruin outside the city walls I need to check before the scouts find it," Alaric said, shifting. "You're to escort me."
Silas was expecting me in an hour for the lead-poisoning cases. I needed an out.
Seraphina stood up abruptly. "Why her? Why aren't you asking me?"
"It's a long trek through the mud. The woods are crawling with bugs and beasts."
Seraphina paled. "I just remembered—I'm having dinner with Daddy tonight." She gave him a quick peck and vanished.
Who still says Daddy at her age? Barf.
"I'd love to, sir but… I'm tutoring a first-year med student."
"Find a way to handle both. You're dismissed."
I went back to my desk fuming. I packed a bag, but not for hiking. I stuffed my massive medical textbooks and highlighters inside.
Alaric walked past and dropped a pair of rugged boots on my desk. "Change. Unless you plan on walking through mud in those heels."
How did he know my size?
"I am perfectly capable of walking everywhere in my heels. Even to a ballerina class."
On the drive toward the rugged site, I kept my headphones in and my nose buried in Advanced Anatomy. My phone buzzed in my pocket. A restricted number. Silas.
I swiped ignore. He called again. And again.
"Your student is persistent," Alaric said, his eyes on the road.
"He's retaking the class."
"Relentless."
"He's a slow learner." I marked a page with a neon highlighter.
"That's high-level material for a first-year."
"He's also ambitious."
"Ambitious enough to call five times in ten minutes?" Alaric's voice dropped, dripping with a sudden, sharp suspicion.
"Why the sudden interest?"
I didn't wait for an answer, I just turned the volume up on my music, cutting off the conversation before he could dig deeper.
We arrived at the site. A man in a high-vis vest, the Foreman, was waiting by the rusted gates. He looked terrified.
"Mr. Von, we told you the structural integrity is compromised," the Foreman stammered.
"I don't pay you for excuses, Miller." Alaric replied, not even looking at him.
The Foreman looked at my heels, then back at Alaric. "Is she... with the inspection team?"
"She's with me," Alaric said. " Open the gate."
I stepped out, my heels sinking instantly into the soft earth. Damn it. Maybe i should have listened.
"What exactly do you want with this dump?" I asked, crossing my arms.
Alaric's boots crunched on broken concrete. "The price is… fair. Considering the size."
"Fair? Boss, it's falling apart."
He smirked, brushing dust off his coat. "It still has potential."
He moved deeper into the structure, checking the beams. I followed close behind, clutching my textbook like a shield. A rusted catwalk groaned above us. I saw the bolts snap first.
"Alaric—!"
I lunged. I tackled him just as a chunk of iron crashed down, shattering the concrete where he'd been standing. We hit the ground hard. Dust and rust rained over us.
My chest was pressed against his, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs.
"You have a death wish," I hissed, my face inches from his. "And trust me, that's not something a seer can fix."
Alaric looked at me through the settling dust, his lips curving slightly. "Then I suppose it's fortunate... that my secretary keeps saving me."
"Keep standing under collapsing metal and even a medical degree won't save you."
The Foreman ran over, breathless. "Mr. Von! Are you alright? I warned you—"
"Quiet, Miller," Alaric snapped, standing up and ignoring the man's outstretched hand. "Look at the wall."
The fallen iron had scraped away a thick layer of filth on the back wall. Behind the dirt was a faded logo—a dragon coiled in a circle, its teeth sunk into its own tail. It held a tactical knife buried in its own neck and a silenced pistol pressed against its own heart. A loop of suicide and steel. A vow of eternal silence
Alaric's face went pale. He reached out, his hand shaking as he touched the symbol.
"Sir? Is that part of the old foundation?" Miller asked, leaning in.
"Leave us," Alaric commanded, his voice trembling with a rage I'd never seen. "Now. Take the crew and clear the perimeter."
Miller scrambled away without a word. Alaric turned to me, his eyes dark and unreadable.
"We're leaving. Now. And you will forget you ever saw this symbol if you want to keep your life."
"What is it, Alaric? Who does it belong to?"
"It belongs to the dead," he whispered.
The day was ruined. But why were his hands shaking? What could the weird ass symbol mean to him?