Chapter 18

       “I didn’t see anything! I didn’t see anything!!”

       Lorcan pulled away in an instant, his movements precise—too precise. As if he hadn’t just been standing so close he could feel her breath. As if he hadn’t just made Seranna look like a woman kissed breathless.

       He stepped back with a perfect flicker of guilt in his expression, playing the role of the man caught red-handed. Even his hair seemed slightly tousled, like a mark of mischief.

       Seranna, without needing to fake much, gave him a light but purposeful push. She looked away, her cheeks flushed—not entirely acting now. Her fingers tugged down the hem of her blouse in reflex.

       But Celyst’s reaction couldn’t have been more different from Senatha’s startled scream. Instead of shying away or covering her eyes, Celyst’s face lit up with a wide, mischievous grin. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and playful mischief as she exclaimed, “Big bunny is going to have a wife? THAT MEANS I’LL GET TO MEET LITTLE BUNNIES?!” She bounced on the balls of her feet, clearly thrilled at the idea.

       “Not exactly like that, pink bunny.” His tone was soft but firm, laced with affectionate teasing that made the nickname linger warmly in the room.

       Celyst was undeterred by his comment. She turned to Senatha, who had quickly recovered from her initial shock and was now grinning with equal delight.

       “WE’RE GONNA BE A FAMILY!!”

        The two girls immediately linked arms and began to dance around the room, spinning and laughing like a pair of carefree kindergarteners lost in their own world of joy. Their innocence and unrestrained happiness filled the room with a lightness that momentarily lifted any tension.

       Seranna watched them quietly. She caught Lorcan’s eye and exchanged a brief, meaningful look with him. He gave a subtle nod in return. The scene unfolding before them was exactly what they had hoped for — natural, warm, and real enough to convince anyone who walked in that they truly belonged together.

       “So you two are really dating?”

       Celyth.

       She stood there, slightly disbelief.

***

       Seranna sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly trying to summon patience. “Stop calling me that, Senatha. We’re not Chinese.”

       “But Mom’s great-grandma was Chinese,” Senatha replied with a hint of smug defiance, as if she had just won a courtroom argument. Without missing a beat, she opened the fridge and grabbed a drink like nothing had happened, shrugging nonchalantly as she walked away.b

       Lorcan had turned slightly, his gaze flicking toward Celyst and Celyth, brows lifting in a silent question about what exactly they were doing there—unannounced, at that. But before he could say anything, he seemed to reconsider. No use digging into that chaos right now.

       Instead, with deliberate calm, he reached for Seranna’s waist and gently pulled her closer. The motion was casual on the surface, but purposeful underneath. He leaned down, speaking just low enough for only her to hear, “Let’s go somewhere.”

       Seranna didn’t argue. Without needing clarification, she nodded, understanding exactly what he meant.

       Without further words, the two of them slipped out of the kitchen and quietly made their way back to her study—away from the clamor, away from their siblings, and into the only place in the mansion where silence could still hold meaning.

     “Within a week, people will keep commenting on our status now,” Seranna stated with a calm voice, though her eyes were as sharp as glass. “They’ll dissect every picture, every angle, every move we make together. They’ll speculate. They’ll assume. They’ll say I’m using you, or that you’re being manipulated. That I moved on too fast, that you ruined something sacred, that this is all a ploy or a performance.”

       She took a breath and stood straighter, as if bracing herself against a storm she’d already memorized. “But if they thought I’ll be faltered, they’re wrong. Because I’m Seranna Geraski. And the S in my name stands for Superior.”

       Her tone didn’t crack—not even slightly. It wasn’t said in jest, or arrogance, but with the type of confidence born from years of being doubted and enduring anyway. She looked directly at Lorcan, gaze unblinking. “I didn’t survive everything I did just to be dragged down by hashtags and half-truths.”

       She paused, the corner of her mouth twitching. “They can talk. That’s what they’re good at. But I walk. I move forward. And I don’t look back unless I’m proving a point.”

       “And I don’t need anyone. They need me,” Lorcan stated firmly, his voice quiet but laced with the kind of steel that couldn’t be bent. It wasn’t arrogance. It was certainty—like he had measured the world and found no one capable of defining him.

       His words lingered in the air, heavy and unshakable, echoing through the dimly lit study that had grown still around them. Seranna didn’t respond immediately. She didn’t need to. There was something satisfying about hearing someone else speak her language—clarity, conviction, the refusal to bow.

       Then, without warning, the sharp buzz of her phone lit up the silence, almost immediately followed by the ringing of his. The sudden noise fractured the intensity between them, but not the mood. They both looked down at their screens at the same time, instinctively glancing at each other after.

       No words were needed. Just a single look, a mutual understanding.

       “I’ll be quick,” she murmured.

       Lorcan gave a nod. “Likewise.”

       Seranna walked over to her desk, picking up the phone and turning slightly away, her tone measured as she answered. Lorcan, meanwhile, retreated into the far corner of the room, one hand already lifting to his ear as he picked up the call, voice low and unreadable.

       After a few minutes, Seranna ended her call and returned to the cushion, folding her hands neatly in her lap as she waited silently for Lorcan to finish. The quiet between them was steady, marked only by the faint hum of distant city sounds outside the window. Soon after, Lorcan ended his call and shifted his gaze toward her.

       “My secretary just told me we’ve been invited to a talk show,” Seranna said evenly.

       Lorcan nodded slightly. “I received the same message.”

       Again, they exchanged a brief, measured glance—no emotion, no reaction—just an unspoken understanding that this invitation was yet another public step they had to face together. Neither spoke further as the weight of the news settled between them.

       Until, “It’s our chance to ‘prove’ our relationship.”

       “Yes. And it’ll be memorable.”

***

       He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against her lips, right there in front of Celyst and Celyth. The moment lingered briefly as he rested his forehead gently on hers, his hands resting firmly yet tenderly on her waist. But when their eyes met, there was no warmth—only a cool, steady gaze that revealed nothing of the affection the gesture might have suggested. “I’ll pick you up,” he said quietly, his voice low and calm.

       Seranna gave a faint, measured smile in response, her lips barely curving. “Okay…”

       He lingered a moment longer, his eyes still unreadable, then added quietly, “Don’t tire yourself, Chérie.” Another quick, delicate kiss brushed her lips before he stepped back, breaking the intimate space between them.

       Without another word, he turned and moved toward his waiting car, where Celyst and Celyth stood silently. The atmosphere remained charged with unspoken tension as the twins followed him inside, leaving Seranna standing alone, her expression unreadable beneath the calm surface.

       Once the car disappeared beyond the gates, Seranna closed the front door with a soft click. The mansion felt quieter now, the echo of earlier chaos fading into calm. She walked briskly down the corridor, the sound of her heels clicking faintly against the marble floor as she made her way back to her study.

       The files. She hadn’t reviewed them yet—the new recruits Kranos introduced earlier: Alec and Cenno. With a slight sigh, she picked up the black folder with a gold-embossed crest of the Bolden Drakar from her desk. Instead of reading them there, she decided to retreat to her bedroom. Her mind needed quiet, privacy.

       The moment she stepped into her room, she exhaled, letting her shoulders drop just slightly. She placed the files on her nightstand, changed into her silk robe, then brought them over to the bed. Sitting on the edge, legs crossed, she opened the first folder.

Name: Alecassio Brandon

Age: 25 years old

Height: 6’1 ft

Weight: 174 lbs

MBTI: ENFJ

Blood Type: O-

       She scanned through his psychological profile, combat experience, past affiliations, and regional training. Her eyes moved fast but critically. A soldier with solid fieldwork, leadership tendencies, and diplomatic finesse. That was rare. Her brow lifted slightly in approval as she reached the last page. Alec had potential—not just as a bodyguard, but something more. Tactical support. Maybe even someone to place as second-in-command under Gareth, depending on how he handled himself.

       Then, she picked up the second file.

Name: Cennokaiser W. Osborn

Age: 20 years old

Height: 5’7 ft

Weight: 126 lbs

MBTI: ISTP

Blood Type: B-

       At first glance, the stats didn’t impress. Smaller frame, average scores in group dynamics, and limited formal training. But Seranna knew better than to judge by statistics. Her eyes narrowed as she read deeper into the personal history—background in underground operations, reportedly a prodigy in infiltration and digital espionage. No formal allegiance to any known agency, but clearly trained. Autonomous. Independent. Her kind of risk-taker.

       Talented in such a young age...

      Her gaze sharpened as she reached the psychological section. Cenno wasn’t just capable—she was dangerous in the right (or wrong) hands. That wasn’t a weakness. That was an opportunity.

       Seranna leaned back slightly, tapping the folder against her knee. A new idea was forming. An assignment only someone like Cenno could carry out. Silent. Precise. Undetectable. She didn’t smile, but her expression shifted—just slightly—as the plan took shape.

       Kranos really knew how to select.

       Yes. This changed everything...

***

       Lorcan’s pen hovered mid-air, the black ink tip poised above the last document he needed to review that evening. The silence in his study was crisp, broken only by the soft ticking of the wall clock and the occasional clink of porcelain as he reached for his coffee. Steam curled from the dark liquid, untouched since it had been poured, its bitter scent sharp in the dim-lit room.

       He had been productive since returning from Seranna’s estate. Efficient, composed, clinical. Everything was in its place. Everything except—

       His eyes slid to the left side of his desk, where three peculiar objects sat like unwelcome guests at a royal banquet.

       The Nailongs.

       He didn’t even know why Seranna gave them. Nor did he ask. But somehow, these ridiculous little plush creatures had made their way into his space—his study—and she had given them with such intentional care that he couldn’t bring himself to remove them.

       And now, they were staring at him.

       One had a lolling tongue and eyes pointing in completely different directions, a clear mockery of intelligence. The second had the widest, most blankly judgmental gaze he’d ever seen on fabric, with a permanent frown stitched into its yellow face. The third… he had questions about the third. Its entire face was singed black like it had survived a tragic microwave accident. It shouldn’t even be alive. Or cute. And yet somehow, it was both.

       Lorcan leaned back, lips pressed into a thin line, his brow twitching in vague disbelief.

       The first one—tongue out, dead-eyed—was clearly the ringleader. It sat right at the edge of his signed documents, practically drooling on the corner of a report he’d spent three hours correcting earlier. He stared it down, but of course it didn’t move.

       “Dieu...” He was gonna be insane.

***