Third Person’s POV
The faint bruise on Dominic’s neck still glimmered under the lamplight—warm from the heat of skin-to-skin contact, the kind of mark shared between lovers but left incomplete. Vivienne hadn’t allowed him to return the gesture, which made the intimacy look strangely one-sided.
Hidden behind the curtain-like branches of a silver-leaf willow, Vivienne watched Cassandra step into her chauffeured car with the satisfied expression of someone who had just claimed a prize. Dominic remained by the garden pathway, alone for a brief moment—until Cyrus, his second-in-command and closest friend, approached with heavy steps, agitation clinging to him like a second coat.
“You’re telling me,” Cyrus muttered under his breath, jaw tight, “that you let her put her claim on you… and you didn’t return it?”
Dominic’s response was steady—too steady. “She wanted it that way.”
Cyrus stared at him as though he’d lost his mind. “And you just went along with it? Dominic, she isn’t even your girlfriend. You don’t owe her that kind of devotion.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Dominic replied, lifting his eyes toward the dark sky as though searching for an answer there. “If that’s how she wants things, then I’ll follow her lead.”
Cyrus gave a humorless laugh. “You’d drag down the stars for her if she asked.”
Dominic didn’t argue. That silence was answer enough.
Vivienne turned away before she heard the rest. Her chest constricted painfully—not only because of what she overheard, but because something inside her had been unraveling since that moment in the garden. Whatever that intimate act between Dominic and Cassandra symbolized, it split her open in places she thought she had already healed.
She did not trail them further that night. She simply went home and said nothing to anyone.
Within a few hours, Dominic had escorted Cassandra back to their estate.
Later, the night air drifted with the scent of smoke, fresh earth, and something metallic. Dominic had ventured into the old, forbidden part of the Silvana Woods alone. His goal? Retrieve the Red Lotus Gem—an artifact hidden deep in their ancestral lands, locked away for reasons no one remembered clearly. Cassandra wanted it, and Dominic—devoted, foolish Dominic—had gone to get it for her.
Earlier at the art exhibit, Cassandra had mentioned the stone while bragging about what she expected from any man who wanted to win her over. She made it sound like a challenge. Dominic apparently took it as a mission.
Cyrus had argued fiercely. “You do realize that gem is protected for a reason? The mentors sealed it off because people died trying to harness whatever power they believed it held. And now you want to rip it out just to impress a girl?”
Dominic had replied with an unsettling calm, “If she wants it, then I’ll bring it to her.”
Cyrus’s frustration boiled over. “This isn’t just some fancy trinket you throw at a woman to earn a smile! Even if she plays some symbolic role in your life, that stone is dangerous. People bled to bury it. That entire forest reacts to intruders.”
Dominic remained immovable.
“Those protective traps,” Cyrus warned, “will tear you apart. You might not even walk out alive.”
“I’ll manage,” Dominic murmured. “If she desires it, I’ll make sure she has it. Even if I come back in pieces.”
And he did come back in pieces.
---
Vivienne’s POV
When I opened my front door that night, the air shifted—carrying with it a faint scent of pain, sweat, pine, and exhaustion.
Dominic stood on the threshold, looking like he had crawled through a battlefield. His shirt was torn, dried blood clung to his temples, and his posture sagged under invisible weight. There were no flowers in his hand tonight. He’d already sent whatever he found to Cassandra—probably through Cyrus. Naturally.
“There was… an incident,” he murmured, voice low and distant. “A rogue group attacked. It got a bit messy.”
I tilted my head, giving him nothing. “I see.”
He nodded stiffly. “I’ll be out of sight for a while. A few days. Maybe a week. I need to recuperate.”
“Take all the time you need,” I replied gently—a softness he didn’t deserve.
His brows pulled together, confusion flickering through his eyes. “You’re not going to ask for more details?”
A faint, unreadable smile curved my lips. “It’s fine. I won’t need protection where I’m going.”
He looked puzzled—which was exactly what I wanted. He didn’t realize that I was quietly saying goodbye. He had no idea that these walls were the last place we would ever stand together.
He left for his quarters, sluggish and bruised, and I watched him walk away without feeling even a flicker of desire to stop him.
---
The next morning dawned too bright, too calm—as if the world were holding its breath.
I spent the afternoon in a private VIP lounge with a few friends. They thought it was just a casual gathering. They didn’t know it was my farewell.
“To Lucian Vale!” someone toasted with a dramatic flourish. “May his marriage to Vivienne be blessed—or at least not chaotic.”
Lindsay snorted. “Honestly, Becca, if he wakes up from that coma and realizes he’s tied to you, he might collapse again.”
Her teasing earned smiles from everyone—but mine barely reached my eyes.
Lindsay leaned closer, her voice dropping into something sharp. “Cassandra. Seriously? After everything she’s pulled? And your father is still pushing you like some chess piece.”
“It won’t matter for much longer,” I whispered.
Her laughter died instantly. “You’ll still visit us, right? You’re not disappearing?”
I lifted my glass. “Of course. I’m not going anywhere.”
But we both knew that wasn’t true.
---
By nightfall, I returned to the Ardent estate, preparing to speak to my father—Alpha Victor—as a daughter for the last time.
My footsteps echoed softly through the hall. This house was never a home to me; it felt more like a museum of ghosts.
Before I reached the study, I heard Cassandra’s unmistakable voice drifting from a side room.
“…He actually let me leave a mark on him! Can you imagine?” she boasted loudly, a little drunk. “He’s practically housebroken.”
Laughter erupted around her.
“He must adore you,” someone sighed.
Cassandra scoffed. “God, please. He’s just a backup. A very obedient one. If I need attention, I call. If not, he stays useful from a distance.”
Another voice chimed in. “And you really plan on marrying that comatose Lucian Vale?”
She burst into laughter. “Absolutely not. If I could choose freely, I’d marry Dominic himself—he’s wealthier, better looking, easier to manipulate. And guess what? He actually sent me the Red Lotus Gem!”
I blinked, letting a dry, humorless smile curl at the edges of my mouth.
She had no idea Dominic and the man she was referring to were the same person. None whatsoever.
Poor, devoted Dominic—bleeding in the woods for a woman who thought of him as nothing more than an accessory.
I didn’t bother listening further. I turned away from that poisonous room and that toxic house. I didn’t even care what my father wanted to tell me anymore.
I went where I always went when I needed grounding: the graveyard.
My mother’s headstone, quietly dignified beneath an old yew tree, greeted me with silence.
“I’m not going to repeat your story,” I whispered, laying a white rose at her grave. “You waited your whole life to be chosen. I won’t make the same mistake—not for any man.”
---
At dawn, my phone buzzed with a bank notification.
A deposit—massive enough to destabilize our family treasury. The price of my cooperation. The price of my silence. The price of a marriage arranged for the convenience of everyone but me.
I accepted it.
Then I severed myself from the Ardent name entirely. From my father. From Dominic. From Cassandra. From every cruel chapter tied to this place.
---
The next morning, I packed my belongings into a single suitcase. When Dominic crossed paths with me, I handed him a plain cardboard box.
“Give this to Cassandra,” I said.
He stared, thrown off. “What’s inside?”
“My old art supplies,” I replied. “She’s desperate to take my place. She might as well have the leftover pieces.”
He didn’t know that I had already signed the paperwork reassigning him to her. She could keep him. He was never meant for me in the first place.
“What about you?” he asked quietly, tightening his grip on the box. “Where will you go? Shouldn’t I follow you once I drop this off?”
I met his gaze, expression unreadable. “I’ll tell you later.”
But there was no later coming.
He searched my face, confused and uncertain. I offered him no explanation. When he finally walked away, clutching the box meant for a woman who didn’t value him, I turned and walked in the opposite direction.
Moments later, in the backseat of a moving car, I snapped my SIM card cleanly in half and tossed it out the open window.
The wind caught it instantly, scattering it into the forest.
By the time Dominic came back looking for me…
I was already nothing more than a memory.
