A small boy knocked on my front door. “Dad, I’m your son. I traveled back seven years to warn you…” My first thought was to call 911—or maybe the closest psychiatric ward. The boy’s eyes welled up, and the tears fell. He tugged at the lapel of the bespoke tuxedo I hadn't managed to change out of yet, the one still smelling of champagne and gardenia. “Dad, you absolutely cannot marry Mom.” His voice was a desperate, urgent whisper. “Getting close to her is getting close to disaster. In two weeks, you’ll be in a car crash. You’ll lose your ability to have children.” My hand froze midway to the phone. “She’ll marry you, but she’ll be cold. Distant. It’ll drive you into a severe depression, and eventually, you’ll take a bottle of sleeping pills and kill yourself.” He choked on the words. “The man she really loves is her executive assistant, Dominic Keller.” The name landed like a punch. “The reason she left the engagement party early today? Because Dominic’s dog got sick.” Owen’s small face was earnest. “If you don’t believe me, she’s at his place right now. Come with me. You’ll see the truth.” 1 Owen picked up a loose stone and hurled it hard against Dominic Keller’s door. I was hiding behind the thick shadow of an old oak tree, my spine pressed against the rough bark. My fingernails dug into the wood, splinters embedding themselves in my skin. I felt nothing. The moment the door opened, the blood in my veins solidified into ice. Seraphina Monroe. She was there, just as he said. She wore a silk robe, and her hair was still damp from a shower. Hours ago, she had received a phone call, said one word—crisis—and abandoned me mid-reception. She left me alone to field the pitying stares and the snide gossip of hundreds of guests. Two hours later, she texted to say she was handling an urgent, company-wide emergency. The “urgent emergency” was apparently standing in her assistant’s apartment, in a bathrobe, to nurse his sick dog. My heart seized up, a painful, spasming clench. Sera looked out, saw nothing, but noticed the stone on the ground. She frowned, annoyed. “Sera? Who is it?” Dominic’s voice called from inside, warm and intimate. “No one. Probably just some kid pulling a prank.” Dominic walked out, cradling a tiny, fluffy Maltese named Truffle. He was wearing low-slung drawstring sweatpants that exposed the waistband of his… designer briefs. I crumpled against the tree trunk. The sudden, intense cold of betrayal washed over me. I recognized those briefs. I had seen an identical pair in my own laundry machine at home. Sera had told me they were a gift for me. Now, the sickening reality hit: they were Dominic’s. She and he had been together, and he had forgotten them, leaving her to pawn them off on me. The visceral wave of nausea was so strong it stole my breath. I bent over, dry-heaving, nothing coming up but bile and pain. Tears and snot streamed down my face. A cold wind cut through me, making my jaw tremble uncontrollably. Dominic shivered, drawing his shoulders inward. Seraphina immediately wrapped her arms around him, her voice melting into a tenderness she had never offered me. “The wind’s picking up. Let’s go inside.” “Mmm.” Dominic’s sound was a low, needy purr. “Truffle’s appetite is gone, but he only wants the food you make.” Sera’s mouth curved into a soft, easy smile. “Okay.” My mind shattered. She can cook. Last month, when I was suffering through a brutal case of the flu, I had begged her, pleaded with her to just make me a simple bowl of homemade chicken soup. Her face had darkened. “I’m the CEO of the Monroe Group, Eli. I don’t belong in a kitchen. For a man? It would be a professional embarrassment.” Now I understood. Her food, her care—it was good enough for a dog. It was good enough for her lover. But it was never good enough for me. The door slammed shut. Bang. The world was silent. I was a huddled, broken mess in the black shadow of the tree. Owen wrapped his small arms tightly around my waist. “Don’t cry, Dad. She’s not worth it.” Seraphina didn’t come home that night. I didn’t sleep. Owen lay beside me in the bed, his small hand gripping mine like an anchor, even as he drifted off. I looked at his face, a heartbreaking fusion of Sera’s sharp cheekbones and my own softer features. The complexity of my emotions—grief, shock, fury, and a terrifying, sudden love for this stranger—was overwhelming. I sent Sera a simple breakup text. She didn’t reply. She didn’t appear. She vanished for a week. I finally drove to the Monroe Group offices to confront her. The receptionist informed me she was out of town. “On a business trip. With Mr. Keller. They travel together often,” she stressed, deliberately. Sera was a known workaholic, and these sudden disappearances were common. “Every time she vanishes, she’s with him, isn’t she?” I asked Owen, my voice ragged. His bright eyes dimmed, and he nodded. “I saw a photo album in Mom’s study,” he whispered. “It was full of pictures of her and Dominic traveling the world together…” A bitter laugh escaped me. I fought back the stinging burn behind my eyes. Sera had always hated it when I showed up at the office or disturbed her when she was “busy.” Over the years, we’d established a silent, cold agreement: when she disappeared, I would send no texts, make no calls, and send no one to check on her. But while I was worrying if she was eating or sleeping properly—she was off chasing the Northern Lights with Dominic, staring up at the vast, white sky, pretending to be on a journey toward forever. I had given her my trust. She had used that trust to forge the weapons she repeatedly plunged into my heart. I stumbled out of the office, my steps weak and unsteady. Behind me, I heard the disdainful whispers of a few employees. “Seriously? Thinks she’s the one, coming here to check up on the boss.” “Ms. Monroe and Mr. Keller are the real couple. He’s the home-wrecker, using his parents’ death to force her hand.” “He blackmailed her into marriage? Pathetic.” I froze. Everything felt ridiculously absurd. How could her employees—my employees, since the company was technically mine—believe I was the homewrecker? Unless Sera and Dominic had acted like a couple, flaunting their closeness, her silence about the “forced marriage” story had tacitly endorsed it. I packed every single one of Seraphina’s belongings and had them delivered directly to Dominic Keller’s apartment. That night, she finally returned. With Dominic. And his dog. “I’ve already fired those gossiping employees, Eli. Dominic and I were on an emergency trip. We worked for days straight, barely stopping.” She took my hand. “It’s my bad habit. I’ll change. I promise to text you, no matter how busy I am. Okay?” Her face was etched with fatigue, her eyes bloodshot. She looked genuinely exhausted, making me feel like the irrational one. I snatched my hand away, my voice flat and cold. “Don’t bother explaining. We’re over.” Sera sighed, an expression of weary annoyance. “Don’t say things you don’t mean. I know you’re just mad about the engagement party. I’ll overlook the ‘breakup’ text. I guarantee nothing like that will happen on the wedding day.” Watching her solemn promise, I felt a detached wave of disgust. Dominic chimed in, stepping closer. “Eli, Sera brought me here specifically to explain. It really was all work. She slept less than an hour a night just so she could rush back to you. Look, she’s lost weight.” As he spoke, a flash of silver around his neck caught my eye. I lunged forward, grabbed his collar, and yanked the chain out. It was a vintage silver locket. Seraphina’s mother’s last possession, meant for her future son-in-law. On the day of the engagement, I had asked her to let me wear it. She had kissed my forehead. “I want to put it on you myself, on our wedding day.” Now, it rested on Dominic Keller’s throat. Dominic went red, flustered and panicked. He dropped to his knees. “I lost my mind, Eli! I saw it on the table and just… picked it up.” A flimsy, transparent lie. Sera never took that locket off—not even to shower. Sera knew I wouldn’t believe it. The pretense dropped. The look she gave me was dangerously cold. “Eli. Why did you have to tear the curtain down?” she asked, her voice low. “Pretending not to know was easier for everyone. For you. For me. Wasn’t it?” “You don’t have to play these games of push and pull. I will marry you, regardless.” She pulled Dominic up. In front of me, she wiped the tears from his eyes, her gaze filled with heart-wrenching pity. The years of repressed pain and humiliation surged, overwhelming all reason. I stepped forward and slapped her, hard. Then I spun and hit Dominic with the back of my hand. Truffle yelped and leaped from Dominic’s arms, latching its teeth onto my calf. I sucked in a sharp breath, but the pain only fueled my rage. I kicked the dog away. Truffle let out a strangled, agonizing cry. “Truffle!” Dominic shrieked, his voice utterly broken. The next second, a hard, brutal impact struck my gut. Seraphina’s eyes were blazing with a hatred so intense I thought she might tear me apart. “Elias Maxwell, how could you be so cruel? It’s just a pet!” I stared back at her, biting down on my lip as cold sweat poured from my face. My stomach was on fire. Seraphina frowned. “Stop being dramatic. It was just a kick.” It was just a kick. But she was a national champion black belt. “Dad!” Owen burst from the bedroom, his eyes wide with fear. Seraphina’s focus snapped to him. She grabbed Owen’s collar, violently yanking him closer. “Who is this? Why is he calling you Dad?” I lunged at her, ignoring the throbbing agony in my abdomen, and sank my teeth into her arm. She cried out and released Owen. I pulled him into my arms. The sight seemed to pierce her. Her eyes turned scarlet, her teeth grinding. “Eli, you betrayed me?” Before she could press for answers, Dominic let out a piercing scream. “Sera! Truffle isn’t moving!” She spun instantly toward Dominic and the dog. Before she left, she shot me a look of pure menace. “If anything happens to Truffle, I swear, I will destroy you.” Watching her walk away—to a dog—I felt the last of my strength drain away. I collapsed onto the floor. Owen was sobbing hysterically. “Dad, don’t sleep! Don’t leave Owen again!” I tried to reach up and wipe his tears, but my arm wouldn’t move. Before I lost consciousness, I saw Owen pick up my phone, expertly dial 911, and rattle off the address. I woke up in a sterile hospital bed. After the doctor examined me, he handed me a document. It was a prenatal scan. Seraphina’s. She was pregnant. She’d been at the clinic two weeks ago and forgotten to take the results. The person who accompanied her was Dominic Keller. I, the biological father, was finding out about my child’s existence this way. I looked at the tiny shadow on the scan, an image that in a few months would become the adorable boy standing before me. Owen, however, was terrified. “Dad, you absolutely cannot marry Mom for my sake. I would rather disappear from this world than see you suffer again.” He buried his face in my chest, crying. “Please, Dad. Don’t keep me.” I held him, my own chest tight with grief and confusion. In the few days we’d been together, he had become a piece of me. I couldn’t let go. Suddenly, Seraphina’s private security detail burst into the room. They forcefully dragged Owen and me to a high-end pet clinic. Truffle lay stiffly on a metallic table. A bodyguard kicked the back of my knee, forcing me to fall to the cold floor. The sight of me sent Dominic into a frenzy. He lunged, clawing and slapping my face. “You killed Truffle!” “He was sick already, I could have had a few more days! You hastened his death! I’m going to kill you!” He yanked my hair, slapped me, and gouged my face with his nails. Seraphina watched, a flicker of pain in her eyes—for Dominic—but she did nothing to intervene. “Let Dom vent,” she said, cold and hard. “It’s your own doing.” Owen, furious, kicked his small legs. “Bad man! Don’t hurt my Dad!” “Dad?” Dominic grabbed Owen’s face, turning it from side to side. He let out a chilling, maniacal laugh. “Sera, look! He’s a spitting image of Elias. He must be that bastard child from eight years ago!” Seraphina and I both went pale. Eight years ago, on Sera’s birthday, was the darkest day of my life. I had nearly been assaulted. When I dragged my broken body home, the mansion was engulfed in flames. My parents, thinking I was trapped inside, rushed into the inferno. They saved Seraphina, but died themselves. Sera later nearly beat my attacker to death. I told her the lunatic hadn't succeeded. She had said she believed me. But her reaction now proved she never had. My vision was red. I glared at Sera, forcing the words through gritted teeth. “He is not!” He looks exactly like you, too, Seraphina! Don’t you see it? Sera tightened her fists, taking a deep, ragged breath. “It doesn’t matter either way…” Then, she violently grabbed Owen by the collar, marched to a window, slid it open, and dangled him outside. I screamed, horrified. “Seraphina, what are you doing?” Her face was expressionless, vacant. “Truffle needs a proper burial. Your parents’ plot has the best Feng Shui. I’m going to put Truffle there.” “I’ll find a new, adequate plot for your parents. This is what you owe Truffle.” My breath hitched. I trembled with rage. “Seraphina, are you even human? My parents died because of you—!” “I know!” Sera snapped, cutting me off, her eyes hardening. “Stop reminding me. I agreed to marry you, and I haven’t celebrated a birthday in eight years. That’s enough penance!” She looked down at the boy in her grasp. “Now you choose. Him, or your parents’ peace.” She started counting down. “Three… Two…” “The child! I choose the child!” I shrieked, my heart tearing. Mom, Dad, your son is sorry! Sera pursed her lips, clearly dissatisfied with my choice. She threw Owen onto the floor like garbage. Then, she gently scooped the deceased Maltese into her arms. She cast one last cold glance at Owen and me before walking away, never looking back. Dominic stood over me, his lips curled into a smug, victorious smile. “That lunatic woman eight years ago? I set that up.” “You bastard!” I roared, struggling against the guards. Dominic leaned down, his sharp nail digging into my cheek. “And another secret… I was in the mansion the day of the fire.” My eyes were scarlet. “You caused it?” “Not me!” Dominic cackled, maniacally. “It was close. Your mother was unlucky, a cabinet fell on her. Your father could have escaped, but he insisted on going back for her.” He leaned in closer. “And Sera? She only wanted to save me. She told me, ‘Hurry, let them go, don’t worry about them…’” “The screams of your parents… So sad…” Each word was a razor-sharp blade, systematically dismantling me. I screamed, a guttural, agonizing sound of pure grief. A wrenching pain tore through my chest, and I violently spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor. I woke up in the hospital again. Owen was there, his eyes swollen and red. He threw himself into my arms. “Dad, let’s not have Mom. Don’t have Mom!” I held him tight. “Okay. We won’t.” A few days later, Seraphina called. Her tone was a cold, non-negotiable notification. “Truffle is being buried tomorrow. Come and take your parents’ ashes.” My voice was ice. “Fine.” There was a silence on the line. After a long moment, her voice softened, laced with a plea. “After Truffle’s service is over, we’ll go pick out our wedding attire, okay?” I laughed, a harsh, humorless sound, and hung up. The next day, at the cemetery gates, my legs felt like lead. Owen held my hand. “Dad, tomorrow is the day of the car crash. Let’s leave here. Please?” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Yes. We’ll take Grandma and Grandpa with us and leave.” But just then, a car swerved out of nowhere, not slowing, and charged straight for us. “No! The crash isn’t supposed to be today!” Owen screamed, his eyes wide with horror. He shoved me hard. “Dad!”
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