Seraphina sat on the bed, her mind still replaying everything.
Ezrin's words.
His touch.
His control.
The way he walked away like he had already won.
Her body was tired, her ankle throbbing, her frustration draining the last bit of energy she had.
She let out a slow breath, forcing herself to push away the thoughts.
It didn't matter.
Not now.
Her body was heavier than before, her muscles aching.
And before she could even realize it—
Sleep took over.
Her breathing slowed, her body sinking into the warmth of the bed.
And for the first time in a while—her mind finally went quiet.
The next morning, Seraphina stirred awake.
The soft glow of daylight seeped through the curtains, casting faint shadows across the room.
Her body felt lighter, the exhaustion from yesterday no longer suffocating her.
She shifted slightly—and realized something.
Her ankle.
It still hurt, but the pain was duller, more manageable.
A small relief.
But just as she was about to stretch, something caught her eye.
On the side table, a sleek black laptop sat closed, waiting for her.
Seraphina's brows furrowed.
Ezrin.
Her fingers hovered over it for a moment before she touched the cool surface.
No note. No explanation.
But this was his answer.
Silent, deliberate.
A part of her wanted to be satisfied that she got what she asked for.
But another part of her?
She knew this wasn't just him giving in.
This was him reminding her that even when she won—she only won on his terms.
Seraphina stared at the laptop for a moment longer.
She should have felt satisfied.
She got what she wanted.
But the fact that Ezrin had given it to her without a word—without a fight—
It didn't feel like a win.
Still, she wasn't going to waste the opportunity.
She grabbed the laptop, placing it on her lap as she reached for her phone.
With practiced ease, she connected it, her fingers moving swiftly.
The screen lit up, and within seconds, she was working.
Her focus sharpened, her mind finally free from the tangled mess of last night.
For the first time since she woke up—she felt like herself again.
But even as she worked, a thought lingered in the back of her mind.
Ezrin never did anything without a reason.
And that meant…
This was just the beginning.
As Seraphina scrolled through the files Celeste had sent, one document stood out.
It wasn't an official report. No formal headers, no standard formatting.
Just raw, personal notes.
Curious, she clicked it open.
And what she found made her stomach twist.
A file named "Elias's Behavior & Strange Activities."
As she read the whole file, she got the information but the last point shocked her. It was for her.
"He has become obsessed with Valerie." Seraphina murmured, "Why?"
As she continued, she saw a side note written by Celeste.
Once, I overheard him say, "She's exactly what I was looking for."
Seraphina's grip tightened on the laptop.
She already knew Elias was possessive, but this?
This was worse.
This meant he wanted her there from the beginning.
And the most unsettling part?
She had no idea why.
Seraphina stared at the screen, taking in every word.
Elias had been watching her from the beginning.
Tracking her. Studying her.
Her grip on the laptop tightened.
And then—she smirked.
"So, that's how it is?" She said.
He had handpicked her. Not because he knew who she truly was.
But because he was drawn to her.
Her qualifications.Her intelligence.
Or maybe—her beauty.
But one thing was certain.
He had no idea she was Seraphina—the one working in Oblivion Division.
That meant she had an advantage.
A dangerous one.
"You think you're watching me, Elias?" Her smirk deepened.
"Let's see how it feels when I start watching you."
Seraphina worked through the files Celeste had sent, her mind sharpening with every detail she uncovered.
Every word, every observation—it all pointed to one thing.
Elias had been watching her.
But he had no idea who she really was.
That thought alone gave her an edge.
A dangerous one.
She smirked, but before she could dive deeper—
Her stomach growled. Loudly.
Seraphina sighed, shutting the laptop.
She hadn't eaten since last night. She needed food before she passed out.
Slowly, she pushed the blankets aside and shifted her legs over the edge of the bed.
Her ankle still ached, but it was manageable now.
Carefully, she stood up, balancing her weight.
One step. Then another.
She made her way to the kitchen, moving slowly but steadily.
As she entered, her gaze scanned the room.
Ezrin was nowhere to be seen.
The penthouse felt eerily quiet, almost unsettling.
For a second, she frowned.
He was always watching, always there, lingering in the background.
But now?
Now, he was gone.
And somehow, that bothered her more than it should have.
Seraphina opened the fridge, grabbing whatever ingredients she could find.
She worked silently, mechanically, her mind still running through everything she had uncovered.
Elias.
His obsession. His hidden meetings.
He had been watching her—but not the real her.
She had the upper hand. For now.
After making a simple breakfast, she sat down and ate, not bothering to rush.
Ezrin was still nowhere to be seen.
And she told herself she didn't care.
Once she finished, she placed the dishes in the sink and carefully made her way back to the bedroom.
Her steps were slow, her ankle still reminding her of the past two days.
As she stepped inside, a realization hit her.
She needed a shower.
It had been two days.
Her clothes felt uncomfortable against her skin, her bandages needed changing, and she refused to feel this way any longer.
With a deep breath, she went to the closet, searching for something clean to wear.
For now, she would focus on herself.
Just for a little while.
Seraphina paused, staring at the empty closet.
Right.
This wasn't her home.
She had no clothes here.
No fresh set of her own bandages.
And worst of all—how was she supposed to take a shower with her injured ankle?
The thought irritated her more than it should have.
She hated feeling dirty.
Hated the uncomfortable stickiness of two days without a proper shower.
Even her hair felt heavy, oily.
She exhaled sharply. "I don't have time for this."
Pushing the thought aside, she made her way toward the bathroom.
She would figure it out.
She had to.
Because staying like this wasn't an option.
Seraphina stood in the bathroom, staring at her reflection.
She looked exhausted, drained—but most of all, unrecognizable.
This wasn't her. She never let herself get this weak.
With a sharp inhale, she got to work.
She reached for the bandage on her forehead first, carefully peeling it away. The wound had dried but was still tender.
Next—her arm.
She grabbed the edge of the bandage wrapped around her left arm, slowly unraveling it.
The exposed skin was still bruised, slightly swollen, but healing.
Then came the hardest part.
Her ankle.
Seraphina braced herself.
She slowly bent down, wincing as she reached for the dressing wrapped tightly around her swollen skin.
Her fingers hesitated.
This was going to hurt.
But she had no choice.
Gritting her teeth, she carefully started peeling it away—bit by bit, inch by inch.
A sharp sting shot through her leg, forcing her to bite back a pained hiss.
Her breathing was uneven, her hands slightly trembling.
But she kept going.
Because this was necessary.
Because she refused to let this injury control her.
Seraphina exhaled slowly, trying to steady her breathing.
Her body ached, every exposed wound reminding her of the last two days.
With careful movements, she turned on the tap, letting warm water fill the bathtub.
The steam rose, filling the air with comforting heat.
She tested the temperature with her fingers, then slowly—very carefully—lowered herself into the tub.
The water wrapped around her, soothing but also stinging in places.
She winced but adjusted, making sure her wounded arm and forehead remained dry.
The tension in her muscles slowly eased, the warmth sinking into her sore body.
For the first time in days, she felt the slightest bit of relief.
She leaned back, closing her eyes.
Even if just for a moment—she could let herself breathe.
The warmth of the water wrapped around her like a cocoon, easing the tension in her sore muscles.
Seraphina hadn't realized how exhausted she truly was.
Her body felt weightless, the gentle heat seeping into her skin, numbing the lingering pain.
For the first time in days, there was silence—no tension, no control battles, no calculating her next move.
Just calm.
Just peace.
Her breaths slowed.
Her eyelids grew heavy.
And before she even realized it—sleep pulled her under.
The soft ripples of the water were the only sounds left in the room.
And for the next hour—Seraphina was lost in the kind of rest she had been deprived of for far too long.
Ezrin stepped into the penthouse, his expression unreadable, his movements precise.
He had been at Oblivion Division since last night—handling things, controlling situations, ensuring nothing slipped through the cracks.
But now, as he entered the bedroom, a strange stillness settled over him.
Seraphina wasn't there.
His sharp gaze scanned the empty bed, the laptop, the faint indent of where she had been.
Something in his chest tightened.
His fingers flexed.
And then—his eyes landed on the bathroom door.
Light seeped from beneath it, a soft glow against the dark flooring.
His jaw eased.
So, she was in there.
But something still felt off.
Ezrin moved closer, standing just outside the door.
He didn't knock. Didn't call out. He just listened. But there was no sound. No water splashing. No shifting movements.
Just silence.
His fingers twitched. Something wasn't right.
Ezrin waited.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Thirty.
Not a single sound.
His patience wore thin, but more than that—a strange feeling settled in his chest.
Seraphina wasn't the type to be this quiet.
He stepped closer to the bathroom door, knocking firmly.
"Seraphina." His voice was calm, but it carried weight.
Silence.
Ezrin's jaw tightened."Seraphina, open the door."
Nothing.
The unsettling feeling solidified into tension.
In two swift movements, he retrieved the key, unlocked the door, and pushed it open.
The sight before him made his breath hitch—just for a second.
Seraphina was in the bathtub, completely still.
Her bare skin glowed under the dim light, water still and untouched around her.
Her head rested against the edge, her eyes shut, lips slightly parted.
For a split second—an unfamiliar emotion clenched in his chest.
Fear.
He stepped forward, his voice sharper now.
"Seraphina."
Still, no response.
His gaze flickered over her, assessing.
Her chest rose and fell—slow, steady.
She was asleep.
Ezrin exhaled through his nose, his grip loosening at his sides.
But the tension didn't fade.
Because now?
Now, he had to wake her up.
Ezrin stood by the bathtub, his gaze locked onto her.
Seraphina was completely vulnerable—something he had never seen before.
Her bare skin was flushed from the warmth of the water, her breathing slow and steady.
She looked so different like this.
Defenseless. Unaware.
And yet, even in sleep, she carried an edge of stubbornness, like she could wake up and fight at any second.
Ezrin's jaw tensed.
She had fallen asleep in the water.
If he hadn't come back, if she had slipped just a little deeper—
His fingers twitched.
No. He wasn't going there.
Without hesitation, he reached into the water and gripped her wrist.
"Seraphina." His voice was sharp, controlled. "Wake up."
She didn't stir.
Ezrin's patience snapped.
His hand moved to her shoulder, shaking her firmly.
"Seraphina."
A slow inhale. A small shift.
Her lashes fluttered, her brows furrowing slightly as she stirred awake.
Her eyes opened half-lidded, unfocused, still lost in sleep.
"Hmm?" Her voice was soft, drowsy.
Ezrin's grip didn't loosen.
"What the hell are you doing?" His voice was low, sharp, but not angry—just edged with something unreadable.
Seraphina blinked, confusion settling in as she finally took in her surroundings.
And then—realization hit.
Her entire body stiffened.
Her gaze darted to Ezrin, his face unreadable, his hand still gripping her wrist—his sleeves damp from the water.
And then—her breath caught.
Because she was completely exposed.
Seraphina's body reacted before her mind could catch up.
Her hands shot up, covering herself instinctively, water splashing slightly around her.
Her pulse spiked, heat rushing to her face—not from the bath, but from the situation.
Ezrin was standing right there.
His sleeves were damp from where he had touched the water, his expression unreadable, gaze locked onto her.
Seraphina's breath hitched."Why are you here?"
Her voice came out sharp—laced with anger, but it wasn't real anger.
It was nervousness.
Ezrin noticed.
His gaze flickered to the way she curled into herself, the slight tremble in her fingers, the way her voice lacked its usual edge.
She was defensive—but not because of him.
Because of herself.
Ezrin tilted his head slightly, his smirk barely visible.
"You were sleeping in a bathtub, Seraphina." His voice was smooth, controlled. "I thought you drowned."
Seraphina's lips parted slightly.
She hadn't even realized she had fallen asleep so deeply.
But she wasn't about to admit that.
"I can handle myself." Her voice was firmer now, though her grip around herself tightened.
Ezrin exhaled softly, watching her.
Then, without another word—he grabbed a towel from the rack.
And in one swift motion, he tossed it onto her, the fabric landing over her shoulders, covering her bare skin.
His gaze flickered over her one last time before he turned away, his voice low, teasing—
"Then handle yourself and get out."
And just like that—he walked out.
Leaving her flustered, exposed, and completely thrown off.
Seraphina quickly finished her bath, washing away the exhaustion, the dried blood, and the remnants of the past two days.
The warm water soothed her muscles, but it did nothing to ease the frustration bubbling inside her.
She scrubbed her hair, making sure every trace of discomfort was gone.
She was not going to feel weak anymore.
After carefully cleaning around her wounds, she turned off the water and grabbed the towel, wrapping it securely around herself.
Her ankle still ached, so she moved carefully, stepping onto the dry floor, making sure she wouldn't slip.
And then—realization hit.
What was she going to wear?
Her own clothes were nowhere.
She had nothing in this penthouse.
And the only option left?
Ezrin's clothes.
She exhaled sharply, annoyed, frustrated.
"Of course, he had to be the only solution to her problem." She said annoyingly.
Her fingers tightened around the towel.
There was no way she was walking out like this.
But the alternative?
Asking him for clothes.
And she hated that even more.
Seraphina stood frozen, gripping the towel tighter.
Her mind raced.
She could stay here and wait—but for what?
She could try sneaking out, but where would she go?
The only option left?
Ezrin.
Her jaw tightened at the thought.
She hated this. Hated needing anything from him.
But standing here, wrapped in nothing but a towel, wasn't exactly an alternative.
With a sharp exhale, she straightened her back, masking her frustration.
She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her hesitate.
Slowly, she stepped toward the door, unlocking it with a deliberate click.
The cool air hit her skin as she stepped out.
Her eyes immediately scanned the room.
Ezrin was there.
Sitting in the chair, legs crossed, his focus on his phone.
But the second she stepped out—his attention shifted.
His gaze dragged over her, slow, deliberate.
And then—a smirk.
Seraphina clenched her jaw. "I need clothes."
Ezrin leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable. "Do you?"
Seraphina's fingers tightened around the towel."Ezrin."
His smirk widened. "You look good like this, though."
Seraphina exhaled sharply.
She should have expected this.
Ezrin stood up, walking toward her, his presence overwhelming the space between them.
He didn't hand her clothes. Didn't even pretend to move toward the closet.
Instead, he stood close enough for her to feel the warmth radiating from him.
His voice dropped lower, teasing—"Ask nicely."
Seraphina's breath hitched.
Because she knew one thing for sure.
He was enjoying this way too much.
Ezrin wasn't even trying to hide it.
His gaze dragged over her, slow, assessing—admiring.
The way her wet hair clung to her skin.
The way the towel barely reached her thighs.
His smirk deepened.
One wrong step.
One miscalculation.
And she would be completely exposed.
The thought amused him.
Seraphina, so stubborn, so fiercely guarded—yet standing right in front of him, wrapped in nothing but a fragile piece of fabric.
His fingers twitched, but he didn't move.
Didn't touch.
Not yet.
Instead, he let his voice dip lower, teasing, controlled—
"Are you sure you want clothes, Seraphina?"
Her glare was instant, sharp—but there was something else in her eyes.
Something hesitant.
Something uncertain.
And Ezrin?
He lived for it.
Seraphina's jaw tightened, her fingers gripping the towel like it was her last line of defense.
She could see it—the way Ezrin's gaze lingered, dark and knowing.
The smirk on his lips wasn't just amusement.
It was a test.
A deliberate push, waiting to see how far she would go before she broke.
Her pulse was uneven, but she refused to let it show.
"Ezrin." Her voice was sharp, warning. "Stop messing around."
Ezrin tilted his head slightly, watching her like she was the most interesting thing in the world.
"I'm not messing around." His voice was smooth, calm. "I'm just wondering… why the rush?"
He took one step closer.
Seraphina's breath hitched.
The space between them was nearly nonexistent now.
She held her ground, but she could feel it—the weight of his presence, the way his warmth radiated against her damp skin.
Her towel barely reached mid-thigh.
And Ezrin? He noticed.
His smirk deepened, his voice dropping lower—"One wrong move, and you'll lose that towel, Seraphina."
Her stomach twisted, but she didn't let herself react.
Instead, she lifted her chin, masking the nerves curling in her chest.
"Then I better not make a wrong move."
Ezrin chuckled. "You think you can control that?"
His fingers reached out—just barely brushing against the edge of the towel.
Not pulling. Not touching too much.
Just a reminder. A threat.
Seraphina's skin burned where his fingers had been.
Her voice was steady when she spoke, but it took everything in her not to waver.
"Get. Me. Clothes."
Ezrin exhaled a soft laugh, stepping back just slightly.
"As you wish."
But the look in his eyes?
It told her one thing.
This wasn't over.
Seraphina didn't hesitate.
She saw the way Ezrin was playing with control, waiting for her to break, waiting for her to fold.
But instead—she flipped the game.
"Fine."
Ezrin's smirk froze—just slightly.
She stepped past him carefully, keeping her balance, and moved toward the bed.
With deliberate ease, she sat down, ignoring him completely.
Reaching for the paper towels on the bedside table, she began drying her wounds, dabbing carefully to prevent infection.
Not in a rush.
Not asking for his help.
Not giving him what he wanted.
Ezrin's amusement shifted into something else.
His eyes narrowed slightly, studying her.
She could feel it—his surprise, his frustration hidden behind a carefully neutral expression.
He hadn't expected this.
Seraphina, wrapped in nothing but a towel, completely vulnerable—yet acting like he wasn't even in the room.
Like he wasn't the one in control anymore.
Ezrin leaned against the dresser, crossing his arms, watching.
Then—he smirked again, but this time, there was something sharper behind it.
"You're really going to stay like that all day?"
Seraphina didn't look up."If I have to."
Ezrin chuckled, but it was different now.
Because for the first time in this game—
She had made a move he didn't see coming.