Chapter 283
Chapter 283:
She leaned forward, her fingers tightening around the remote until the plastic creaked.
Guilt.
It was etched into every line of his face. He looked like a man haunted by ghosts he couldn’t exorcise. And for Seraphina, that guilt was a lifeline. It was a currency she knew how to spend better than anyone.
The door clicked open. Seraphina didn’t jump. She had learned the sound of Dominic’s footsteps over the last few days—heavy, arrogant, claiming ownership of the floor he walked on.
Dominic Thorne leaned against the doorframe, swirling a glass of dark red wine. He wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at the screen, at the image of the man he hated.
“He looks pathetic,” Dominic said. His voice was smooth, lacking any real heat, just a cold observation of fact. “Like a dog that’s been kicked one too many times p>
Seraphina muted the TV. She turned to face him, smoothing the skirt of the dress Dominic had bought for her. It was too short, too tight—a constant reminder of her status here. Not a guest. A possession.
“He’s grieving,” Seraphina said softly, testing the waters.
Dominic laughed. It was a sharp, barking sound. He took a sip of his wine, his eyes finally sliding over to her. “Grieving? He’s broken. And you’re still staring at him like he’s the prize. Do you really think he’d take you back? After everything p>
Seraphina stood. Her legs felt shaky, but she locked her knees. She had to play this perfectly.
“I don’t need him to take me back,” she lied, her voice trembling just enough to sound convincing. “I’m just… worried. If he collapses, the investigation into the accident might reopen. He’s the one shielding me from the press right now by keeping the focus on his financial mess p>
Dominic swirled the wine again, watching the red liquid coat the glass. He was bored. Seraphina could see it. The thrill of holding her captive, of using her as a pawn against Liam, was fading now that Liam was self-destructing on his own. Dominic liked games, but he hated cleaning up the pieces.
“You’re right,” Dominic mused. “He is a distraction. And frankly, having you here is becoming… tedious. My brother Alistair is making moves. Big moves. I need to focus p>
He set the glass down on the dresser. The sound of crystal on wood was sharp in the quiet room.
“Go,” he said.
𝖨𝗳 𝘆𝘰𝘶 𝗌𝘦е t𝗁𝗶𝘴 ոovl 𝗈𝗇 𝗮n𝘺 𝘀𝗶𝗍𝖾 o𝘁𝘩𝖾r 𝘁𝘩an b𝗲𝘭𝘯𝘰𝗏𝖾𝘭ѕ.𝗰o𝗆 it 𝗂ѕ а сор𝘺
Seraphina froze. She blinked, sure she’d misheard. “What p>
“Leave,” Dominic said, waving a hand toward the door as if shooing away a fly. “Pack your bags. Get out. Go run back to your broken ex-husband. Let’s see if he saves you or drowns you p>
Seraphina hesitated. It felt too easy. Dominic Thorne didn’t just let people go. There was always a catch, a trapdoor waiting to open beneath her feet.
“Why?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Dominic smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. It was the smile of a predator opening the cage because he wanted to watch the hunt.
“Because you’re a grenade, Seraphina,” he said softly. “And I’d rather throw you into Liam’s lap than have you explode in my house. Go make his life hell. That benefits me more than keeping you here p>
He turned and walked out, leaving the door wide open.
Seraphina didn’t wait for him to change his mind. She grabbed her bag, shoving her few belongings inside with frantic hands. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic rhythm of fear and exhilaration. She was free. She just needed to get to Liam. If she could get to him, play the victim, cry about how Dominic had terrorized her… she could win him back. She knew Liam. He had a savior complex a mile wide.
She hurried out of the mansion, past the silent guards who didn’t move to stop her. The night air hit her face, humid and thick, but it tasted like freedom.
From the balcony above, Dominic watched her stumble toward the main gate. He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed a number.
“She’s out,” he said into the receiver. “Alert the tips line. I want the paparazzi swarming her before she even hails a cab. Make sure they document her desperate run to her ex-husband. I want the headlines to bleed by morning p>