Dominic’s POV
I could still see it as if it were yesterday. The first time Adrian and I laid eyes on Seraphina.
We were in college then—two young men who had always competed with each other, whether in studies, sports, or even who could drink more at a party. But when she walked into that café near the campus, everything stopped.
She wasn’t even doing anything extraordinary—just ordering coffee with that quiet confidence, her hair loose around her shoulders, her smile polite. But something about her caught the light in a way that made the whole room turn.
I remember nudging Adrian with my elbow. “She’s beautiful.”
His gaze had already fixed on her, intense, like he had been waiting his whole life for her to arrive. “She’s mine,” he said simply, as though declaring it to the universe.
I scoffed. “Yours? We don’t even know her name.”
But Adrian was always the reckless one, the one who moved before thinking. A week later, he came to me grinning, saying he’d taken a job as her bodyguard. A bodyguard. Adrian didn’t need money—his family was well-off. I thought it was ridiculous. I mocked him for it too.
“You’re going to play watchdog just to get close to her?” I had laughed. “Come on, that’s so old school.”
I rolled my eyes at him, thinking it was another one of his reckless whims that would fade after a week. But it didn’t. Everywhere Seraphina went, Adrian followed—not just as a bodyguard, but as if he’d made it his mission to guard her heart too. He memorized her favorite coffee, the way she liked her books stacked, even the songs that made her smile. I watched from the sidelines, unsettled, irritated.
And maybe, if I’m honest, jealous. Because while I laughed at his foolishness, deep down I knew Adrian was winning something I hadn’t even dared to reach for.
He didn’t care. He was already falling. And soon enough, they became inseparable.
I told myself to let it go. That if she made him happy, fine. But there was something about Seraphina—something that unsettled me. The way she laughed, the way her eyes softened when she cared, the way she moved as though she belonged to no one yet could belong to everyone. And I wasn’t blind to the pull she had on me.
I flirted sometimes, casually, half to tease Adrian, half to test her reaction. A smile here, a compliment there. I thought it was harmless. But Adrian noticed. He always noticed.
One night, he grabbed me by the collar, shoving me back. His eyes burned with rage I had never seen before. “Don’t you dare look at her like that again. Don’t you dare, Dominic.”
“It’s just a joke,” I said, though deep down I knew it wasn’t.
“It’s not funny.” His fist tightened. “She’s mine. Not yours. Don’t forget that.”
That night, we fought—words sharper than any punches. And though we called it a misunderstanding later, I knew something between us had cracked. The bond we once had was no longer the same. And perhaps that was why, slowly, we drifted apart.
Then came the accident. I was the one drunk, driving, colliding with his car. He was declared brain dead for what happened. He didn’t survive… and I paid everyone to hide the fact that I was the one driving.
I can still see Seraphina’s face when they told her he was gone. She broke in front of me. She screamed, cried, begged the heavens. And I—selfish as I was—stepped into the gap his death left.
I comforted her. I offered her stability. I told myself it was love, told myself that I had finally won against Adrian, that he had always taken what he wanted and this time, fate had chosen me instead.
And she stayed. She gave me her years, her devotion, her warmth. For five years, she was by my side. And yet… when Helena came back into my life, I thought my heart still belonged to her. I thought it was Helena who held the key. But now…
Now as I knelt before the unrecognizable remains of Seraphina, as the DNA confirmed what my eyes refused to see, I felt something crack inside me. A weight crushing my chest, a pain I could not name. My heart ached—Adrian’s heart, beating inside me, mourning the woman he truly loved.
Or was it me? Was it Dominic, not Adrian, who couldn’t stop crying her name?
“Seraphina…” My voice broke, my tears falling freely, no longer caring who saw. “Why… why did you leave me?”
A sharp sting tore me from my grief. A slap. Helena stood before me, her face contorted with rage.
“How dare you leave me at the altar!” she screamed. “Do you know what you’ve done to me? Everyone’s talking right now—about her! About Seraphina! And here you are, crying over a dead body!”
I stared at her, stunned. “How dare you slap me—she’s dead, Helena!”
“So what? You wanted her dead, didn’t you?” she spat, her eyes glinting.
My fury surged, and before I could stop myself, I slapped her back. The sound cracked in the air, and silence fell around us. Helena touched her cheek, horrified. “You slapped me? Dominic?”
“You started it,” I hissed, my chest heaving. “Can’t you see? I’m grieving!”
She laughed bitterly. “Grieving? For her? Didn’t you say you never cared for her? Didn’t you say she was nothing but pity, nothing but guilt? Why now, Dominic? Why cry now, when she’s dead? Don’t tell me… don’t you dare tell me… that you love her.”
Her words pierced me. Love. The word I had denied, twisted, buried under excuses. My lips parted, but no sound came. I shook my head, unable to answer.
Finally, I whispered, “Just… not like this. She can’t die. Not when she filed a case against me. She can’t leave without paying for it.”
But deep down, I knew. My heart wasn’t breaking because of the case. It wasn’t guilt alone. It was love. Too late, too broken, too poisoned by pride.
Seraphina was gone. And the truth I never dared admit tore me apart: she had truly loved me, and I had destroyed her.
