Betrayed Heiress: Married To The Devil

Seraphina POV

I gasped, my hands flying to my chest.

There was no blood. No silver letter opener protruding from my ribs. Just the soft silk of my nightgown and the steady, unbroken rhythm of my heart. I was standing in my suite at the Marino Estate on Long Island. The calendar on my vanity confirmed the impossible: it was the day before my eighteenth birthday.

I had returned from the dead.

The crunch of tires on gravel drew me to the Juliet balcony. Below, a line of sleek black cars bearing the Valenti crest parked in the courtyard. Angelo Valenti stepped out, looking exactly as he had before the blood and the betrayal.

I didn't run down to greet him like the naive, lovesick girl I used to be. Instead, I slipped out of my room and stood in the shadows of the second-floor landing, looking down into the Grand Salon.

"My affections for Seraphina are purely fraternal," Angelo’s voice echoed off the cold marble walls, dripping with false nobility. "It is Carissa who holds my heart, Sophia. The original contract between our families never specified which Marino daughter I was to wed. I will not ruin Seraphina's honor by marrying her when I love another."

"Oh, Angelo," my aunt Sophia sighed, her voice laced with feigned distress. "This is highly irregular. But... if it is true love, how can I stand in the way?"

I smiled in the dark. A cold, dead thing. Angelo thought he was correcting a mistake, perhaps driven by his own selfish desires or some twisted foresight, completely unaware that I knew every filthy secret he harbored. He thought he was the master of this chessboard. He was merely the first pawn in my Vendetta.

I descended the sweeping staircase, my footsteps silent. "Then you shouldn't stand in the way, Aunt Sophia."

They both snapped their heads toward me. Sophia quickly masked her shock with a pitying smile, stepping forward for a fake embrace. "Sera, darling... you weren't supposed to hear that. I know how much you dreamed of being a Valenti Lady—"

I sidestepped her touch, my expression entirely blank. "A dream I am happy to wake up from. If Angelo and Carissa are meant to be, they have my blessing."

Angelo’s jaw tightened. He studied me, searching for the hysterical tears he clearly expected. "Don't play games, Sera. I know this hurts your pride, but I won't be manipulated by your jealousy."

Right on cue, Carissa rushed into the salon, her eyes already brimming with practiced tears. "Sera! Please, I would never fight you for him. I can sacrifice my happiness for our sisterhood—"

I let out a dry, humorless laugh that cut through her pathetic performance. "Stop."

I looked between the three of them, my gaze settling on Angelo's arrogant face. "If you want her, take her. Why must you brand me with a sin just to make me the villain in your little love story?"

The absolute silence that followed was deafening. Carissa’s fake tears froze. Angelo’s smug superiority faltered, replaced by a flicker of genuine uncertainty. I had refused to play the desperate victim, and it shattered their entire script.

Before Sophia could recover and launch another venomous attack, the sharp, rhythmic clack of an ivory-headed cane echoed from the hallway.