Ethan Bishop looked at his phone. It was a text from Caroline Lockwood, Seraphina’s mother. The message read:“Sir Ethan Bishop, I beg of you to denounce the rumor circulating between you and my daughter, Seraphina. I am sure it’s all a big misunderstanding. Please Sir Bishop, I am certain we can come to some sort of arrangement.”Ethan Bishop felt disgusted and infuriated reading the text. “The audacity of that woman,” he vented.Here he was, two floors away from death, and she dared to send him such an irrelevant message. Why was everyone so hell-bent on making him look like a fool by asking him to denounce the rumors he had already indirectly confirmed as truth?Caroline’s plea, he could understand. But what was so special about Seraphina Lockwood that even Jacob Harrington himself came to pressure him with a blank check—a literal blank check, hell, he could have written five hundred billion dollars. Jacob Harrington’s account was certainly capable of giving out such an outrageous
The air was thick with tension. Fifty men stood in tight formation, their guns trained on the elevator door. Ethan Bishop, seated in his command center, watched the CCTV feed with laser focus. The elevator began its slow ascent, each floor ticking by like a countdown to the inevitable confrontation. “Steady,” Ethan whispered to himself, his heart pounding against his ribcage. His plan was simple: overwhelm the attacker with sheer numbers. No one could possibly take down fifty armed men. But as the elevator doors slid open, and the barrage of gunfire erupted, something felt off. For fifteen deafening seconds, bullets tore into the empty elevator. Only then did the captain notice—there was no one inside. “Cease fire!” the captain barked. Ethan’s voice cracked through the comms, panic creeping in. “Where is he? I saw him enter the elevator!” “I don’t know, Sir. He’s not in there. It’s empty.” “That’s impossible. Are you sure you didn’t vaporize him?” Ethan spat, frustration
“Seraphina Chase! She’s behind all this, isn’t she?” Ethan Bishop gasped, his voice strangled with fear. Alexander cocked his head, annoyed. Why stop now? The idiot had only stated the obvious, desperate to make pointless offers to save his skin. Without hesitation, Alexander grabbed Ethan by the throat, ready to resume his mission—beating Ethan Bishop into the afterlife. “I CAN FIX IT!” Ethan screamed, panic filling his eyes. “I heard you,” Alexander replied, his voice shifting, his vocal cords manipulating the sound into something far more terrifying than his natural tone. “Doesn’t mean I believe you.” “I swear on my father’s name, I can fix it! The Pantheon Valley News is live right now. All I need to do is call in and clear it all up.” “And what if it doesn’t work?” Alexander’s interest was piqued, but his grip didn’t loosen. “Trust me, it will. But I need your word—no harm comes to me once it’s done.” Alexander's eyes narrowed. “I owe you nothing. You deserve no mercy.”
When all was said and done, Ethan Bishop and his men were beaten to a pulp, their jaws so disarranged they might never be able to utter another word. Alexander found a discreet place to change back into his regular clothes before heading home. His plan had been more successful than he anticipated. All he’d wanted was to make Ethan pay for what he'd done to Seraphina, but he also ended up getting a public confession that vindicated her completely. Now, with the deed done, he just hoped it would work. "Alexander!" His name was the first thing he heard as he opened the front door. It was Seraphina, with her mother, Caroline, seated in the living room. "Seraphina? Carol? What are you two doing up?" Alexander asked, surprised. He had expected them to be asleep, allowing him to sneak in unnoticed. "Are you out of your mind? How do you expect us to sleep with everything that's going on?" Caroline snapped. "Fair point," Alexander muttered, cursing under his breath for not considering that
Alexander entered the room, murmuring to himself. In truth, he wanted his deeds to remain anonymous, but he never expected the glory to be snatched away by a mother so eager to pimp out her daughter. The craziest part was, despite all the horrible things Ethan Bishop had put Seraphina through, Caroline was still eager to serve her daughter's hand to him on a platter of gold. Alexander couldn’t help but wonder which one of them was truly the deluded fool. But despite it all, one thing gave him satisfaction: Ethan Bishop would never be able to ask for Seraphina’s hand in marriage again—not with his fractured jaw. Hell, he’d be lucky if he could even eat solid food again in this lifetime. Seraphina entered the room. "Alex, ignore what my mother said. You know how she is," Seraphina began, her tone calm. "It’s fine… you should get some rest. Today might turn out to be an extremely busy one for you," he said indifferently as he laid the bed out for her. "You know… I thought you’d
It was 5:30 AM, and Alexander was walking through the fancy streets of Pantheon Valley, his mind crowded with far too many thoughts. His wife, Seraphina Lockwood, had hurriedly left to go see Lady Charlotte. "That mischievous old hag," he muttered to himself. It wasn’t hard to guess why Lady Charlotte had summoned Seraphina. She must have seen the news, realized how wrong she was, and now wanted to save face by calling Seraphina over to reinstate her as Project Manager—probably behind closed doors to preserve her dignity. Seraphina knew this too, which was why she had been more excited than a bee stuck in jelly. Even though she was in such a rush, she still managed to put on her finest outfit, perfect her makeup, and look every bit the part of a soon-to-be, or rather long-overdue, Project Manager. Alexander couldn’t have been more relieved by the timing of it all, but her final words before she left still haunted him: *“Alex, we will finish our conversation.”* He had looked back
--- MOMENTS AGO “It’s Lady Charlotte... she wants to see me… Lady Charlotte wants to see me!” Seraphina stared at her phone in disbelief. She had hoped and prayed for this moment, but never in her wildest dreams did she expect it to happen so soon. “About damn time,” Alexander replied, clearly ecstatic, mostly because the conversation had shifted away from the tension that had been hanging over his head moments before. “What do you think she wants?” Seraphina asked, even though she already knew the answer. She just needed someone else to say it, a second voice to confirm what she was too afraid to believe on her own. “What do you mean? Don’t tell me you don’t know why she texted you.” “Yeah, I do, I just… I don’t know, I want to be sure.” “You want to be sure?” Alexander scoffed in disbelief. “Come on, Seraphina, I thought you’d be happier.” “I am! It’s just…” “It’s just nothing, Seraphina. You earned it, you deserve it, so stop doubting yourself and go meet the sadistic old
Alexander dropped the woman and her child off at the nearest police station. He didn’t wait to give a statement—he couldn’t afford to. The sound of Seraphina’s sobbing still echoed in his ears, driving him to move faster. What could have happened? Alexander questioned himself as he ran home, moving so quickly that anyone who saw him would have caught nothing but a blur. He promised himself he would find out who had hurt his wife and make them rue the day they dared to do so. When he reached home, Alexander was panting heavily, short of breath. He pushed the door open with urgency. “Sera!” he shouted, his voice laced with concern. To his shock, there she was, sitting in front of the TV, a half-empty bottle of alcohol in her hand, with more bottles and cans scattered across the floor. It was clear she was drowning her pain, something completely out of character for her. “Oh, Alex, I’m sorry… I was just overwhelmed,” Seraphina mumbled, turning to him, her head slightly lowered in emba