Ex-Alpha's Regret: Siren's Comeback novel Chapter 52

POV: Seraphina

The journey back to the manor was a silent, waking nightmare. I was a prisoner, flanked by the very guards who, just hours before, would have killed my brother on my husband's command. They didn't take me to the master suite, the one Sylvie now occupied with her gaudy crimson velvets. They led me to a remote, little-used wing of the manor, to a set of rooms I had only ever seen on architectural plans. The furniture was covered in white sheets, smelling of dust and disuse. The windows, tall and elegant, faced a barren, stone-walled courtyard. It was a cage. A gilded, comfortable cage, but a cage nonetheless. The door closed behind me with a heavy, final thud, and I heard the unmistakable sound of a key turning in the lock. Two guards took up positions outside.

My communication with the world was gone. My burner phones had been found and destroyed. Every link to my past, to my family, to my future, was severed.

Later that day, Damian came. He stood in the center of the room, radiating a furious, frustrated energy. He was no longer the confused man in the mud; he was the Alpha whose authority had been challenged, and he needed answers to soothe his wounded pride.

"Why?" he demanded, his voice a low growl. "Why did you run, Seraphina? Who helped you do it? Was it your father? Was this his pathetic attempt at rebellion?"

I sat on the edge of the dust-sheet-covered bed, my hands folded in my lap. I looked at him, at his handsome, angry face, and I felt nothing. The man I had loved, the man I had sacrificed for, the man who had destroyed me—he was a stranger. The miscarriage had hollowed me out, leaving behind a vast, quiet emptiness. There were no words left. There was nothing to say that he would ever understand.

So I remained silent. I just looked through him, my eyes as empty as a winter sky.

My silence was a foreign country to him. He was used to my tears, my anger, my pleading. This… this was a void he couldn't conquer, a wall he couldn't break down. It enraged him more than any defiance ever could have.

"Answer me!" he roared, taking a step forward, his power crashing against my silent shield.

She was flaunting her victory, her complete and utter control over my home, my life. She was twisting the knife, reminding me of my own powerlessness.

I just stared at the stone courtyard outside my window, my silence an unbreakable shield.

She finally sighed, a sound of theatrical frustration. "Well, if you won't help, you won't help. I suppose I'll just have to make all the decisions myself. It's so much responsibility, being the true lady of the manor."

She turned at the door, her smile a slash of victory. "I'm so glad you're home. The manor just wasn't the same without you."