After dinner, Edric Pryce Senior summoned both Damien and Adrian to the study.
Serena remained in the drawing room, sitting quietly with Julian, Lilia, and Vivienne Pryce. She brewed a pot of tea for the elder.
"Serena," Vivienne asked as she delicately tied a ribbon in Lilia's hair, "where do you plan to stay going forward?"
Julian and Lilia both looked up at her, hoping she'd say she'd stay here with them.
Serena gave a gentle smile. "I'll follow Grandpa and Grandma Pryce's arrangements."
Vivienne studied her. She had known Serena as a bright and lively child—far more spirited than even Lilia was now.
When Edric first told her that Adrian and Serena had two children together, she had been shocked—stunned, even.
But upon hearing that the mother was Serena Sangster, she had wanted very much to see this long-lost child.
The current Serena, sitting there quietly, looked like a painting of mountains and rivers—calm, serene… but lifeless.
Jason entered the room and nodded respectfully to Vivienne. "Madam, the young master and young miss's things have been arranged in the Southcourt Pavilion."
The Southcourt Pavilion was where Edric and Vivienne usually resided.
He turned to Serena. "Third Young Madam, your and Third Young Master's marital suite is on the third floor. Allow me to show you the way."
Serena stood up, gave her children a soft embrace, and only said one thing:
"Stay with Great-grandpa and Great-grandma, okay?"
The children were clearly reluctant. Lilia's eyes were already turning red.
But Serena let go and followed Jason out.
The Pryce manor atop Glassridge Hill was a textbook example of French chateau grandeur.
The entire structure was laid out symmetrically. Each level was designed by renowned international architects. Carved columns and vaulted halls exuded power and prestige.
Jason pushed open the heavy oak door. As they passed through the towering entryway, a mirrored hallway stretched before them like a shimmering corridor into another world.
At the far end, a massive crystal chandelier sparkled under the domed ceiling, casting light like scattered stars.
On either side hung paintings by master artists across generations.
Display shelves held porcelain from across the globe—bone china, blue-and-white ware, Imari, Rococo—all rare pieces of auction-worthy quality.
In the Pryce household, these were mere ornaments.
"The main residence has five floors," Jason explained as they walked. "Second floor is for the Master and Madam, third is for you and the Third Young Master, fourth belongs to the Second Master's family, and fifth to Miss Celeste."
Their footsteps echoed across the polished black-and-white marble floors.
"The Master and Madam reside in the Southcourt Pavilion behind the main estate. There's also a stables, hunting grounds, private lake, and rose gardens—all at your disposal."
Serena glanced out the tall French windows. Beyond the courtyard, she could see the glimmer of lake water under the twilight. The roses bloomed in scattered rows, their faint fragrance drifting through the air.
She listened calmly, responding softly from time to time.
Perhaps because of her quiet demeanor, Jason offered a reminder:
"Third Young Master has always kept his distance from the rest of the family. It would be best, Madam, not to wander the main residence too freely."
Serena knew.
Pryce family dynamics were complicated.
The Thirteen Provinces were divided by a vast lake region—on the southern side was the inner domain; to the north, the outside.
The Sangsters and the Pryces were both families with a century of prosperity.
Thirty years ago, the family Sangsters had unexpectedly withdrawn entirely from the inner provinces.
The Pryces quickly filled the vacuum, taking over most of their infrastructure and rising to dominance.
Real estate, manufacturing, entertainment, transport, and oil—many economic pillars were now controlled by the Pryce Corporation.
Edric Pryce had two sons and one daughter. His eldest son, Damien Pryce, was the current head of the family.
Damien's wife, Catherine Pryce, bore him two daughters and one son.
The eldest, Yvonne Pryce; the second daughter, Vanessa Pryce; and the youngest son, Caleb Pryce, who was only seventeen.
No one in the family knew who Adrian's mother was. Two years after Vanessa was born, Damien brought back a boy and a DNA report.
That boy was Adrian.
He had been wedged awkwardly into the family, a constant thorn in Catherine Pryce's side.
Four years ago, Adrian returned to the Pryce estate and sent Vanessa to the ICU after she insulted him.
She nearly died.
Since then, no one in the family dared to cross this madman.
They might not dare confront Adrian directly, but that didn't mean they wouldn't target Serena.
Serena knew all this.
But she didn't care.
She would leave in a year. There was no point wasting her energy on them.
Jason stopped in front of a grand door. "Here we are, Madam."
Serena stepped inside. The room was extravagantly luxurious, decorated in a black and white theme—except for the bedding, which had been changed to a vivid red.
Seeing her gaze linger, Jason took something from his coat and offered it to her.
A small, square black velvet box.
"This is from Madam Vivienne," he said tactfully.
"She said, even without a wedding ceremony, you are still a legitimate bride of the Pryce family."
Serena accepted the box without expression.
"Please thank her for me."
She stepped into the room and looked around.
It was minimal, containing only essential furniture, with no signs of anyone having lived in it.
She sat alone on the edge of the bed and opened the velvet box.
Inside was a pair of wedding rings.
The man's ring was a plain platinum band. The woman's ring was adorned with a brilliant blue diamond.
A Rockefeller sapphire.
Its value—not exorbitant, but enough to match the status of a Pryce bride.
She hesitated for a moment, then took out the woman's ring and slid it onto her left ring finger.
It was the correct size, but still a little loose.
She left the man's ring untouched, closed the box, and placed it in the top drawer of the vanity.
Adrian still hadn't returned from the study.
She didn't know whether he would come back.
Leaning back against the headboard, her fingers brushed the cool ring.
She slowly fell asleep…
—
A dirty, bloody underground fight ring.
The air stank of sweat and iron. On the stage, a blood-covered teen was being pummeled by a towering brute.
Bruised and battered, there wasn't a single spot on him left intact.
But his dark eyes gleamed like a wolf's—sharp, vengeful.
He bled but watched, waiting for the moment to strike back.
Upstairs, behind the balcony, a girl in a white dress stood aloof.
She didn't belong in a place like this.
She uttered just one word:
"I want him."
—
Explosions.
A plummeting aircraft.
A sterile white laboratory.
Long needles. Strange-colored injections.
The eyes of a wolf, filled with silent pleading.
A terrible night. Tangled limbs. Snow falling.
Memories and dreams tangled, collapsing into the moment a wave of fire swallowed her whole.
The breathless heat. The scent of sandalwood.
Serena awoke with a gasp—eyes wide, staring directly into his.
Darker than she remembered. Familiar… yet unfamiliar.
A strong hand was wrapped around her throat, squeezing.
Adrian's fingers were taut with rage. His other hand twirled a fruit knife, gleaming under the light.
The knife looked ready to land anywhere on her body.
She choked out two syllables:
"An-Ki…"
The name of someone she once knew.
Adrian's eyes were void of warmth. He sneered and tightened his grip.
"Serena Sangster… who do you think you are?"
"You trying to die?"
His eyes were wild, full of murderous intent.
And Serena, in that moment, truly believed he meant to kill her.
Just as she was losing consciousness, his grip loosened.
She gasped in fresh air.
But he didn't release her.
She met his gaze steadily.
His hand trailed downward.
The knife moved closer.
His fingers stopped at the base of her throat, right where the top button of her dress lay.