Elias's smirk didn't waver as he studied Seraphina. The golden glow of his office cast sharp shadows across his face, making the intensity in his eyes even more pronounced.
"You've adjusted well here," he said finally, his voice smooth, deliberate. "Better than most."
Seraphina remained relaxed, crossing one leg over the other. "I adapt quickly."
His fingers tapped lightly against the armrest. "That's what I like about you."
She gave him a polite smile, neither encouraging nor dismissing him. She had played this game before—letting men believe they were in control while subtly pulling the strings from the shadows.
Elias leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his desk. "Tonight's party… I assume you'll be making an impression?"
She knew what he meant. He wanted her to play along, to dance to his tune, to prove that she was falling into his world.
She wouldn't. But she'd make him think she would.
"Of course," she replied smoothly. "It's my welcome party, after all."
Elias's smirk deepened. "Good. I want everyone to see why I brought you in."
Seraphina tilted her head slightly. "Because I'm valuable?"
His gaze darkened just a fraction. "Because you belong here."
Ah. Control. That's what he was after.
She let the words hang in the air before offering him a small, unreadable smile. "I'll be there, Director. Don't worry."
She stood before he could drag the conversation further, her movements calm and composed. "If that's all, I have work to finish."
Elias watched her for a long moment before finally nodding. "See you tonight."
Seraphina turned, walking out of his office without a backward glance.
Tonight, the game would truly begin. And she wasn't the one who needed to be careful.
Elias was.
After leaving Elias's office, Seraphina returned to her own, pushing aside the lingering weight of his words. She had work to do, and she wouldn't let his presence disrupt her focus.
Three hours passed in quiet efficiency. Reports, files, and cross-referencing information filled her time. But eventually, she leaned back in her chair, stretching slightly.
A coffee break wouldn't hurt.
Though she personally preferred hot chocolate, she knew Valerie—her other self—enjoyed coffee. And sometimes, small habits helped maintain the illusion of blending in.
She stepped out of her office and made her way toward the kitchen, her sharp eyes subtly observing everything around her. Every interaction, every movement—it all added to her understanding of the Horizon Initiative.
Inside the kitchen, she moved to the machine, waiting as the coffee brewed. The warm aroma filled the space, bringing a brief moment of stillness.
Then, footsteps.
She glanced sideways as a man entered—a familiar face. The same one who had been at the security department, the one who had guided her to the files.
He looked at her, recognition flickering in his eyes before he offered a small smile. "Didn't expect to see you here."
Seraphina took the coffee cup in her hands, her fingers curling around the warmth. "I do take breaks, you know."
The man chuckled. "Right. You just seemed too… focused last time we talked."
She took a sip, studying him over the rim of her cup. "And you seemed too eager to help me."
He raised a brow, amused. "That a bad thing?"
She tilted her head slightly. "Depends on your reasons."
He leaned against the counter, relaxed. "Let's just say I like knowing who's worth paying attention to."
Seraphina smirked slightly. Interesting.
The conversation was casual, lighthearted even, but she knew better than to take it at face value. In a place like this, nothing was ever just a conversation.
Still, she played along, exchanging words and carefully measured responses. Because every piece of information—no matter how small—could one day be useful.
And right now, she was collecting all the pieces.
After her brief coffee break, Seraphina returned to her office, her mind sharper than before. She spent the next two hours immersed in her work, organizing files, analyzing data, and piecing together the fragments of the larger picture. The signature she found still lingered in her mind, but she pushed it aside for now—there were other things to prepare for.
When the clock finally signaled the end of the workday, she wasted no time. Leaving Horizon Initiative behind, she headed straight to Oblivion Division.
The transition between the two worlds was seamless now—one moment, she was a valued member of Horizon Initiative, and the next, she was back in the shadows of Oblivion Division. It was a double life, but she had no intention of losing herself in either.
She strode through the underground facility's cold, metallic hallways, her steps firm as she made her way to Ezrin's office.
Inside, the dim lighting cast long shadows across the room. Ezrin sat behind his desk, as unreadable as ever, while Kieran stood nearby, arms crossed, his sharp eyes already on her the moment she entered.
She didn't waste time.
She placed her hands on the edge of the desk and looked at both of them. "Tonight, I'll play along with Elias."
Ezrin's gaze flickered slightly, but he remained silent, waiting for her to continue. Kieran, on the other hand, raised a brow. "Play along how, exactly?"
She leaned back slightly. "Elias wants me under his control. He thinks he can manipulate me, pull me into his world. I'll let him believe he's succeeding. If he thinks I trust him, he'll lower his guard."
Ezrin's fingers tapped lightly against the desk, his usual calculating silence making it clear he was already weighing the risks.
Kieran let out a quiet scoff. "Dangerous game."
Seraphina smirked slightly. "Only if I lose."
Ezrin finally spoke, his voice calm but firm. "And you want us there."
"Yes." She turned her gaze toward him. "You and Kieran will attend the party as my guests. Elias said anyone can come, which means we won't be breaking any rules. But while I distract him, you'll both observe the guests—who's watching too closely, who doesn't belong, and who might be working behind the scenes."
Kieran let out a low chuckle. "So, we're your eyes while you play your little game?"
She glanced at him. "Exactly."
Ezrin leaned back in his chair, the dim light catching the sharp angles of his face. After a long pause, he finally spoke. "Fine. But if this backfires—"
"It won't," she interrupted smoothly.
Ezrin gave her a long look before a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Then let's make sure of that."
Tonight, the real game would begin.
By 7 PM, Seraphina was ready.
She stood before the mirror, adjusting the delicate fabric of her black silk dress. The way it hugged her curves effortlessly, the way the soft waves of her hair framed her face—it was all deliberate. Minimal makeup, yet striking. Subtle elegance, yet undeniably captivating.
It wasn't just for the party. It was for the game.
Satisfied, she picked up her clutch and stepped out, sliding into the sleek black car waiting for her. The drive to the venue was quiet, but her mind was already at work. Tonight wasn't just about appearances. It was about control.
When she arrived, she spotted them immediately.
Ezrin and Kieran stood near the entrance, both blending into the high-class atmosphere with ease. Kieran, ever the composed one, let his gaze sweep over her before giving a low whistle. "Well, don't you clean up nice?"
Seraphina smirked. "I always do."
But it was Ezrin's reaction that caught her attention.
He hadn't said a word. His gaze was steady, intense—like he was taking in every detail, committing it to memory. The soft waves of her hair, the way the silk clung to her, the contrast between her elegance and her sharp, calculating eyes.
Ethereal. Beautiful. Dangerous.
She could see it in the way his jaw tightened, the way his fingers flexed slightly at his sides.
For a man always in control, this was something he hadn't prepared for.
Kieran's voice cut through the moment. "Shall we?"
Ezrin blinked, finally breaking his gaze. A flicker of something unreadable crossed his expression before he nodded, slipping seamlessly back into his usual composure.
Without another word, the three of them stepped inside.
As they stepped inside, the grand hall unfolded before them—a masterpiece of elegance and wealth. The high ceiling loomed above, adorned with intricate chandeliers casting a golden glow over the room. Every detail was meticulously designed, the shimmering lights reflecting off polished floors and delicate glassware, making everything look ethereal.
Seraphina took in the sight, but her attention was soon drawn to the approaching figure.
Elias.
Dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, he moved with the confidence of a man who owned the room. His sharp eyes locked onto her as he closed the distance, a charming—yet calculated—smile playing on his lips.
"Valerie," he greeted smoothly, extending his hand.
She hesitated for only a fraction of a second before placing her hand in his. His grip was firm, lingering just a little too long, but she held his gaze, unwavering.
What she didn't miss, however, was the shift beside her.
Ezrin's jaw tightened. His sharp, assessing eyes flicked to the handshake, and though his face remained unreadable, the air around him grew heavier.
The handshake stretched past the usual courtesy—long enough to be noticeable, long enough to be unnecessary.
Before the tension could settle further, Kieran, ever the disruptor, cleared his throat. "I believe we're missing introductions here."
Elias turned his attention to him, finally releasing Seraphina's hand. The brief exchange had been subtle, but not to Ezrin.
Kieran offered a polite yet unreadable smile, shaking hands with Elias first. "Kieran Aldric Crowe."
Then came Ezrin. The handshake between him and Elias lasted no longer than necessary, but something unspoken passed between them—a quiet challenge, a warning neither voiced.
Elias smirked slightly. "Enjoy the evening."
Ezrin didn't respond, but his eyes said enough.
Seraphina, standing between them, merely smiled as if nothing had happened. But inside, she knew—this night was going to be far more interesting than she had anticipated.
Elias turned back to Seraphina, his ever-present smirk in place. "Let me help you meet the people," he offered smoothly.
Without waiting for her agreement, he placed his hand on her lower back, subtly guiding her forward.
Seraphina allowed it, her expression composed, but she was fully aware of the shift in the air.
Ezrin saw it.
Kieran saw it.
And neither of them liked it.
As Elias led her deeper into the crowd, Kieran let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "He really is a flirt," he muttered under his breath.
Ezrin, however, was silent. His eyes tracked every movement, every touch, every calculated glance Elias sent in Seraphina's direction.
Then, in a voice laced with quiet fury, he muttered, "Bastard."
Kieran smirked. "Relax, boss. She's playing her part."
Ezrin said nothing, but his clenched jaw and the way his fingers curled slightly at his sides spoke volumes.
This game was getting under his skin.
And he wasn't sure he liked it.
Kieran leaned slightly toward Ezrin, smirking. "Let's observe. My favorite thing to do."
They positioned themselves strategically, blending into the background while keeping a keen eye on the interactions unfolding before them. The crowd was engaged in polite conversations, glasses clinking, laughter flowing easily. But Ezrin wasn't paying attention to any of it.
His focus was solely on Seraphina.
His patience was wearing thin.
She was just an intern. That was all. A newcomer, playing a role. Nothing more.
Then why did the sight of Elias guiding her with a touch irritate him to his core?
Why did watching her smile at someone else set something off inside him?
He exhaled slowly, reigning himself in. Control. That's what mattered. But control was hard to maintain when his gaze followed every single movement Elias made around her.
Then, the drinks were served.
Seraphina, ever the careful one, resisted at first. Ezrin knew why—he had seen her files. Her alcohol tolerance was extremely low. It wouldn't take much to affect her.
But they insisted.
Elias, the guests, everyone around her. They pushed, laughing, raising their own glasses in encouragement. She had to play along.
So, she drank.
One glass.
Then another.
And another.
Seven.
Ezrin's fingers curled into a fist as he watched it all unfold. From the moment she picked up the first glass to the slight change in her stance as the alcohol seeped into her system, he noticed everything.
And he didn't like it.
The realization burned through him like fire. It wasn't just about the mission anymore. It wasn't just about observing.
Something inside him twisted at the sight of her—slightly hazy, surrounded by people who wanted to break her guard.
And that thought alone made him angry.
The soft hum of music filled the grand hall, signaling the next part of the evening's charade.
Ezrin's gaze sharpened as realization settled in.
Now, she has to dance with him.
That was enough. Enough of this ridiculous act, enough of Elias touching what didn't belong to him. His patience was at its limit, but he clenched his jaw and forced himself to remain still.
This was part of her plan. A game she had to play.
But that didn't mean he had to like it.
Across the hall, Elias extended his hand to Seraphina, his charming mask perfectly in place. "Come," he murmured, a quiet demand disguised as an invitation.
Seraphina hesitated. Even in her slightly inebriated state, her mind remained sharp enough to recognize what was happening. Before she could respond, Elias took her hand and effortlessly pulled her forward.
She resisted—just for a second—but he didn't give her a choice.
Ezrin's eyes darkened.
Dragging her onto the dance floor, Elias positioned them with practiced ease. One hand on her back, the other holding hers firmly.
Seraphina's body tensed immediately.
She wasn't unfamiliar with dancing. She had trained for it. But this—his touch—felt different. Uncomfortable.
Elias noticed.
"Why so tense?" he asked, his voice smooth, as if teasing. His touch was gentle, careful, almost practiced in its softness, but it didn't matter. It wasn't welcome.
She kept her expression neutral, playing along, but Ezrin saw the way her shoulders stiffened, the way she subtly shifted her fingers in his grasp—small details that told him everything.
Ezrin inhaled slowly, controlling the storm inside him.
He could tolerate many things.
But this?
This was testing him in ways he didn't want to acknowledge.
Ezrin reached them in a matter of seconds, his presence an undeniable force that made the air around them shift. The music, the laughter, the clinking of glasses—all of it faded into the background. His voice, sharp and laced with unfiltered anger, cut through it all.
"Leave her."
Elias barely turned his head, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk. Unbothered. Amused.
"Okay, fine," he chuckled, tilting his head as if Ezrin's reaction was nothing more than entertainment. "No need to be angry. I'm a good man, after all. I wouldn't do anything."
Ezrin's jaw clenched. His entire body was rigid, every muscle coiled tight. He didn't just hear Elias' words—he dissected them. Every syllable dripped with smugness. A game. A test.
His voice dropped lower, cold and commanding.
"Then let her go. Right. Now."
This time, the amusement in Elias' expression flickered, just for a second.
Seraphina, still in his hold, felt the tension crackle between them like an impending storm. She could sense it—Ezrin wasn't just angry. He was on the verge of something else entirely.
Elias, ever the showman, sighed dramatically and released her hand. "Alright, alright. No need to be so possessive," he mused, still smirking.
Ezrin didn't move.
Didn't blink.
His eyes burned into Elias, dangerous, unyielding, a silent warning.
Elias may have let go of her, but Ezrin knew one thing for sure—this wasn't over.
Not even close.
Within seconds, she was no longer in Elias grasp—she was in Ezrin's.
His hand slid to her waist, the other capturing her hand in a firm yet controlled grip—as if he was about to lead her into a dance. But this wasn't just a dance. This was possession.
His grip was tight, commanding, leaving no room for doubt about who she belonged with in this moment. Yet, despite the force behind it, she felt no discomfort. Only something strangely reassuring.
The warmth of his touch steadied her, but the alcohol in her system was beginning to settle deeper, making everything feel slightly distorted. The music, the crowd, the golden glow of the chandeliers—all of it blurred at the edges.
But Ezrin?
He was sharp. Unwavering. A force pulling her back into focus.
She looked up at him, and for a moment, she swore she saw something flicker in his darkened gaze. Something unreadable. Something dangerous.
And then, he moved.
As if claiming the dance Elias had no right to.