Darkened Crown

Chapter 5: Temptation and Homecoming

Seraphina walked briskly through the grand entrance of Kingsley Academy, her thoughts still whirling around Adrian. Why can't I just hate him? she fumed silently, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks as she remembered the way he'd looked at her, as if daring her to step closer or pull away. She wanted to dismiss him as nothing more than an irritation, but every time she tried, his face—and the memory of his damn perfect ass—slipped back into her mind.

Why does he have to have a perfect ass? she thought, mentally cursing herself for even thinking about it. She wanted to crush him, to make him disappear from her thoughts, but there was an undeniable pull between them, something magnetic she couldn't quite put into words.

The Blackthorn penthouse loomed high above Manhattan, an emblem of wealth, power, and privilege. As the elevator doors slid open, the butler, Thomas, greeted her with a polite nod. "Welcome back, Miss Blackthorn. Your mother has just returned from Paris."

Seraphina's heart fluttered a little. She tossed her purse into Thomas's waiting hands. "Where is she?"

Serena Blackthorn stood in front of the panoramic windows, her silhouette stark against the glittering skyline of New York City. Known as the "Iron Lady" of the fashion world, Serena was a name that sparked awe and fear across the industry. She had just returned from Paris Fashion Week, where she dominated the scene with her latest collection. Designers and critics alike whispered her name with equal parts admiration and dread. Serena was a force—a woman who could make or break a career with a single nod.

"Serena Blackthorn," they whispered, "the queen of fashion." Her influence stretched from Milan to Tokyo, from the runways of New York to the ateliers of Paris.

As Seraphina entered, Serena turned, her stern features softening as she saw her daughter. "Mom!" Seraphina called out, rushing forward.

Serena's face broke into a rare smile, and she opened her arms wide. "Oh, sweetheart!"

They hugged tightly, holding on as if they were anchoring each other in a storm. "I missed you," Seraphina murmured, her voice muffled against her mother's shoulder.

"I missed you too, darling," Serena replied, pressing a kiss to her daughter's temple. "Paris was... exhausting. But seeing you makes it all worthwhile."

They finally pulled back, and Serena looked at Seraphina with a critical yet loving gaze. "You look... conflicted."

Seraphina hesitated. She opened her mouth, then closed it, opting for a smile. "Just the usual school drama, Mom," she said with a laugh that sounded a little too light, even to her own ears.

Later, in her room, Seraphina fell onto her bed, reaching for her phone to escape the muddled feelings swirling inside her.

- Fiona: You alive, babe? How's the queen bee of Kingsley holding up?

- Seraphina: Barely. The new guy's a real pain.

- Lucas :Or maybe just a pain with a perfect ass? 😉

- Seraphina: Ugh, shut up! I can't help it if he's annoyingly... hot.

- Elena: Hot and annoying? Dangerous mix, Sera!

Seraphina chuckled, but her laughter faded as her mind drifted back to Adrian. No matter how much she wanted to forget him, his presence lingered like smoke in her lungs—something intoxicating, something she wanted to breathe in, even if it burned her.

.

Adrian paced the small studio, the shadows in the dimly lit room stretching like long fingers across the walls. His sanctuary was deliberately austere—barely furnished, with only the essentials. It was far from the luxury he could easily afford, but he relished the solitude it offered, the silence that cloaked his thoughts.

He lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply as the smoke filled his lungs. The only sound was the faint buzz of his phone vibrating on the wooden table. He glanced at the screen, noticing the private number. His expression tightened, a flicker of annoyance passing over his face.

With a resigned sigh, he picked up the phone, his voice clipped and cold. "What do you want?"

There was a pause, then a voice came through, distorted and unfamiliar. "You've been quiet. Any news?"

Adrian's eyes narrowed. "Not yet," he replied, his tone deliberately vague.

The voice on the other end hesitated, then pushed on. "You're getting too close, Knight. That wasn't the plan."

Adrian's lips curled into a mocking smile. "Plans change."

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. "You're risking everything," the voice said, low and urgent. "Do you understand what's at stake?"

Adrian's expression hardened, his tone turning glacial. "I understand perfectly. But let me be clear—I decide when and how things happen, not you."

The voice grew more insistent. "If you're caught, it's over. You know what's waiting."

Adrian's jaw tightened, his eyes flicking to the window where the city lights flickered in the distance. "I know better than anyone. And I'm not afraid of it."

Silence stretched over the line, heavy and fraught with tension. The voice softened, almost pleading. "Adrian... don't do this. Not now."

Adrian's smile turned cold. "You think you can warn me off?" His voice was a low, dangerous whisper. "Try again."

There was a long pause, then the voice spoke one last time, resigned. "Just... be careful. For your own sake."

Adrian didn't respond. He ended the call and tossed the phone aside, his expression unreadable. The shadows in the room seemed to deepen, and for a moment, a flicker of something dark crossed his face.

He turned back to the easel, gripping the paintbrush tightly, his movements tense and deliberate. As he dragged the brush across the canvas, red paint smeared like blood, his mind drifted back to Seraphina—the way she seemed to see right through him, the way her presence gnawed at him in a way he couldn't explain.

This is just the beginning, he thought, a determined glint in his eyes. And no one knows how it ends but me.

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