Chapter 4 Breakfast with the Beast

The smell of freshly brewed coffee was the first thing that dragged Sera from the thin, restless sleep that had claimed her sometime after dawn. She cracked one eye open, momentarily confused by the absurdly luxurious room - the floor-to-ceiling windows, the crisp, starched sheets that smelled of detergent instead of her cheap lavender fabric softener.

Reality sank in like ice water down her spine.

The ring on her finger dug into her cheek. She'd fallen asleep curled in on herself, clutching her hand like she could squeeze it off her finger.

No luck. The damn thing was still there - glittering proof that her life no longer belonged to her alone.

---

She dragged herself out of bed and into the bathroom, hoping a splash of cold water would erase the exhaustion etched into her face. Her reflection looked back at her, accusing and unbowed: swollen eyes, tousled hair, mouth set in a stubborn line.

Seraphina Vale, event planner turned unwilling fiancée to the city's coldest billionaire.

"Congratulations, you genius," she muttered at her reflection, wiping stray droplets from her jaw. "Could've been a normal train wreck - but you had to aim for the nuclear option."

---

She found a plush robe folded neatly on the marble counter - a soft cream color, thick enough to swallow her whole. Probably cost more than her entire thrift-store wardrobe. She tugged it on and tied the belt tight, feeling a strange thrill of rebellion at padding through his penthouse in his clothes.

She followed the smell of coffee to the open kitchen. And there he was.

Eryx Kane, in all his cold, tailored glory - except he was barefoot and wearing only a crisp white shirt and dark sweatpants that did absolutely nothing to soften the lethal aura he radiated like a second skin. His hair was damp, pushed back in careless waves that made him look almost human. Almost.

He didn't glance up from the French press he was pouring. "Good. You're awake."

"Good morning to you too, Prince Charming," she snapped, folding her arms tighter across her chest.

He slid a mug across the island counter toward her without looking up. "You take it black."

Her eyes narrowed. "How do you know how I take my coffee?"

He finally met her gaze, one eyebrow arched in that infuriating way that made her want to throw something heavy at his head. "I did my research."

"Of course you did," she muttered. She sniffed the cup suspiciously - it smelled exactly right. Bitter, strong, enough to jumpstart her brain and maybe keep her from throwing herself off his penthouse balcony.

---

They stood there in awkward silence - the CEO and his pet fiancée - facing each other across six feet of polished granite. She noticed the faint stubble on his jaw, the slight crease in his brow, the way his forearms flexed as he set down the coffee pot. All small, human details she'd never seen before.

It annoyed her that she noticed.

"So," she said, drumming her fingers on the counter, "what's today's plan, oh mighty puppeteer?"

He ignored her sarcasm, sliding a sleek black tablet toward her. She glanced down - an entire week's worth of schedules, events, press conferences, and a horrifying number of dinners with people whose names she couldn't pronounce.

Her stomach dropped. "I'm supposed to do all this?"

He leaned against the counter, arms folded, his gaze cool and assessing. "We're not selling this to just the boardroom, Vale. We're selling it to the world. That means hand-holding, smiling, and pretending you don't hate me for the cameras."

She snorted. "I do hate you."

A flash of something - amusement? irritation? - sparked in his eyes. "Then you'll be very convincing."

---

She pushed the tablet back at him, ignoring the butterflies that tried to flutter when their fingers brushed. "You expect me to just quit my real job? What about my clients?"

"Handled," he said simply. "Your assistant Theo is fielding the fallout from your little performance. You'll find your debts cleared, your mother's medical bills paid for the month, and your sister's tuition wire-transferred as promised."

Her jaw clenched. She hated that part of her wanted to thank him. Hated that part of her did feel a tiny flicker of relief. She'd sold her soul, but at least the people she loved wouldn't suffer for it.

He watched her wrestle with her own thoughts, like he was dissecting her every reaction and storing it away for later. Predator. She hated that he was always two steps ahead.

---

She lifted her mug in mock salute. "Congrats, Kane. You've bought yourself the world's most reluctant bride. Must feel good."

He didn't rise to the bait this time. Instead, he pushed off the counter and stepped into her space, so close she could see the faint scar above his temple again. His voice dropped to a murmur that made the tiny hairs on her neck stand on end.

"Remember this, Seraphina. You may hate me. You may want to burn this place to the ground. But out there-" He gestured toward the skyline beyond the glass. "-you're mine. Smile pretty, say your lines, and keep your claws to yourself."

Before she could retort, he brushed past her, his shoulder grazing hers in a deliberate, possessive way that left sparks in his wake.

She spun around, ready to snap something back - but her words died on her lips.

He was standing at the floor-to-ceiling window now, phone pressed to his ear, back to her. The morning sun hit him just right - highlighting the powerful lines of his shoulders, the relaxed tilt of his head.

The cold CEO who could crush her. The man she'd promised to ruin if he slipped. The man who'd just bought her soul.

---

Sera blew out a breath, scrubbing a hand down her face.

If he thought this was going to be easy - if he thought she'd roll over and play house - he had no idea what he'd just invited into his glass tower.