Chapter 4

The pain in Seraphina' s knee was a white-hot fire.

Julian released her leg abruptly. His face was a mask of fury.

"You're a pathetic thief on top of everything else," he spat. "Get out of my sight. Marcus will deal with the hospital bill. Don't expect anything more from me. Ever."

He turned, put his arm around a still-sobbing Brynn, and swept out of the room.

The door slammed shut.

Seraphina lay panting, tears streaming down her face.

But through the agony, a profound, almost unbearable lightness bloomed in her chest.

The thread.

It was gone.

Not just frayed, not just loose. Utterly, completely severed.

She could no longer feel its oppressive weight, its constant, subtle pull on her soul.

A sound escaped her lips, half sob, half laugh.

Liberation.

It had cost her dearly. Her integrity in the eyes of the world, her physical well-being. But the price was paid. The Concord was broken. For her. For her lineage.

The door opened. A nurse hurried in, alerted by her cry.

"Miss Hayes? Are you alright? What happened?"

Seraphina looked at the nurse, a genuine, radiant smile spreading across her pain-etched face.

"I'm free," she whispered.

The nurse looked confused. "Free? Honey, your leg... the doctor needs to look at that again. That man, he shouldn't have..."

"It doesn't matter," Seraphina said, her voice stronger. "Nothing matters anymore."

The nurse exchanged a worried glance with an orderly who had followed her in.

"She seems a bit... disoriented," the orderly muttered. "The fever, maybe? Or just plain masochistic, letting that guy treat her like dirt."

Seraphina barely heard them. The world felt new, colors brighter, the air cleaner.

The burden she had carried since she first understood her family' s esoteric whispers was lifted.

Julian, meanwhile, was already on his private jet with Brynn.

He bought her a new, even more extravagant diamond bracelet at a private jeweler' s in their next stop, Monaco.

He showered her with gifts, paraded her at exclusive parties.

Brynn was ecstatic, reveling in his renewed attention, the status, the luxury.

She' d "found" her original bracelet tangled in the lining of her handbag a day later, claiming it must have fallen in during her "distress" at the hospital.

Julian had waved it away. He didn' t care about the bracelet.

He cared that Seraphina had, he believed, defied him, lied to him, stolen from him.

And then, she had looked at him with that... that serene, almost joyful expression even after he' d hurt her. It was unsettling.

He pushed the thought away. Seraphina Hayes was nothing. A discarded amusement.

A few weeks later, Brynn collapsed during a fashion show.

This time, it wasn't feigned.

Doctors ran tests. The diagnosis was grim. A rare, aggressive kidney disease. She needed a transplant. Urgently.

Julian was frantic. He pulled every string, called in every favor.

Finding a match was proving difficult. Time was running out.

He sat by Brynn' s bedside in a luxurious private hospital suite. She was pale, weak, a shadow of her former glamorous self.

"Julian," she whispered, her voice raspy. "I'm scared."

"I'll fix this, Brynn. I promise."

His mind raced. Then, a thought. Cold. Calculating.

Seraphina Hayes.

He remembered her blood type from some minor medical form she' d once filled out for a staff health check. It was rare. Compatible with Brynn's.

He summoned Marcus.

"Find Seraphina Hayes. Bring her to me."

Marcus found her in a cheap recovery clinic, her knee still bandaged, her face thin but peaceful.

Julian didn' t go himself. He sent Marcus with a message, an offer.

He explained Brynn' s situation.

"Julian needs a kidney donor for Brynn," Marcus said, his voice devoid of emotion. "Your blood type is a match. He' s prepared to be... generous."

Seraphina listened calmly.

"If you agree," Marcus continued, "he will clear all your supposed debts to him. He will ensure you are financially secure for life. And... he will marry you."

Seraphina' s expression didn' t change. Marry her? After everything?

"Why would he marry me?"

Marcus almost smirked. "He feels... responsible for your current situation. Your injury. He sees it as a way to make amends. And, frankly, he needs to ensure the donor is... compliant and close by for any future medical needs Brynn might have related to the transplant. A wife is easier to manage."

Seraphina absorbed this. The Concord was broken. She was free. Her suffering had achieved its purpose.

This new demand... it was outside the Concord.

"What if I say no?"

Marcus shrugged. "Then Brynn likely dies. And Julian... well, Julian doesn' t take no for an answer when he truly wants something. He' ll find other ways to persuade you. Less pleasant ways."

Julian himself then called. His voice was strained, urgent.

"Sera. I know we' ve had our... misunderstandings. But Brynn is dying. You' re a match. If you do this, I' ll give you anything. A life of comfort. My name. I swear it."

He then added, his voice dropping, "The doctors say... the donor kidney, the one you' d be left with... it wouldn' t be at full capacity. You' d have limitations. Lifelong. You' d need to be careful. No strenuous activity. Diet restrictions. But Brynn... Brynn would be fine. She' d live a normal life."

He was telling her she would be trading her full health for Brynn' s. Condemning herself to a restricted life so his lover could thrive.

And he would marry her to own her, to control the living organ bank she would become.

The sheer audacity. The monstrous selfishness.

It was almost... impressive.

But the thread was gone. His power over her, the karmic imperative, it was finished.