Chapter 11 Seraphine
I did not feel good.
Not physically.
Not mentally.
Not emotionally.
Not spiritually, if I was being dramatic about it — which I fully was.
My stomach had been in a tight knot since the moment I woke up, and no matter how many times I tried to shake it off, it clung to me like a suffocating sweater I couldn’t peel away.
I blamed the roses.
The first bouquet.
The second bouquet.
The notes.
The photo of me.
The implication that someone had been watching me long before I stepped foot into Obsidian Veil.
And then there was… whatever the hell last night even was.
So why, out of all days, was today the day I had to go on a double date?
I tugged at the hem of my dress — fitted black, soft fabric, knee-length — classy enough to not embarrass my brother, but stretchy enough to hide the bloated panic expanding in my chest. The leather jacket helped too. It made me feel… armored.
Still, I stared at my reflection and groaned.
I looked like a woman trying to appear fine.
Fine women did not groan at mirrors.
I grabbed my purse, checked for my keys three times, then stepped out and locked my apartment door.
The moment the bolt clicked, I winced.
Right.
The date.
The guy’s name was… Rick?
No.
Rich-something.
Richard?
River?
Roberto?
I stopped mid-hallway, glaring up at the ceiling like the name would magically print itself across the fluorescent bulbs.
Then it hit me like a brick.
“Rio.” I muttered. “Right. Detective Rio Something. God help me.”
I rolled my eyes so hard it nearly gave me a tension headache.
Great. I couldn’t even remember the name of the guy I was supposed to pretend to like in front of my brother. Stephen was going to lecture me about “openness” and “trying new things” and “you need a social life,” and I was going to resist the urge to accidentally stab him with a butter knife.
I glanced down at my boots — black, high-heeled, sleek enough to look confident but sturdy enough to make a splash if I needed to stomp dramatic effect into the pavement. The kind of boots that said, I’m here, I’m trying, please don’t judge me.
I let out a long, miserable sigh.
“I am so not made for this.”
My stomach twisted again — part nerves, part lingering dread from last night. I kept replaying the club in my head. The heat. The lights. The strangers who kept brushing against me. The tall man who stared like he could see through every layer of me.
The way he said I didn’t belong.
The way I felt, for a second, like he wasn’t wrong.
I shook my head hard. “Nope. Not thinking about that. Not today.”
I started down the staircase, the clack of my boots echoing off the walls as each step felt heavier than the last. I held onto the rail, because if I broke my ankle right now I would absolutely blame Stephen for this.
Outside, the air was crisp, cool, and annoyingly refreshing — like the universe was mocking me by being beautiful when I felt like human trash.
My phone buzzed.
Stephen: You on your way? Carol says we need to leave soon if we want the reservation.
Reservation. Right.
For that fancy restaurant… what was it called again?
Oh yeah.
Ember & Ash.
A place so expensive that even breathing inside cost $10.
I typed back:
Me: Leaving now. If Rio has a mustache, I’m turning around.
His typing dots popped up instantly.
Stephen: He doesn’t. And behave. Please. Just one night.
I locked my screen.
“That does not reassure me,” I muttered.
The pit in my stomach deepened.
Not because of Rio.
Not because of the date.
Not because of small talk with my brother’s perfect wife.
No. It was something else.
Something under my skin, restless, itching, unsettled.
Like eyes I couldn’t see were already on me.
Like someone was waiting.
Like something was shifting in the shadows behind my day.
I rubbed my arms, trying to shake off the chill.
“Get it together, Seraphine,” I whispered. “It’s just dinner. Just people. Just one normal night.”
But my body didn’t believe me.
Every instinct I had screamed otherwise.
Ember & Ash glowed like a lantern for rich people — warm amber lights, polished black stone, and windows so clean they probably charged extra just to breathe near them. I spotted Carol outside, leaning against a planter, cigarette between two perfectly manicured fingers.
Her platinum-blonde curls framed her face in those effortless, expensive waves I could never pull off.
When she saw me walking up the sidewalk, she froze.
Literally froze.
Her mouth dropped open so fast her cigarette slipped from her fingers and hit the pavement, sending up a tiny puff of smoke.
“Oh. My. God,” she said, wide-eyed. “Seraphine… what are you wearing?”
Her tone wasn’t compliment shocked.
It was why did you leave the house looking like that shocked.
I glanced down at myself — the black dress hugging my curves, the leather jacket giving me some borrowed confidence, the heeled boots clicking with every step.
I suddenly felt like I’d shown up wearing a clown costume.
Carol blinked at me, her eyes dragging slowly, critically down my body.
“I mean… wow,” she said, that fake bright smile plastered on her face. “You… went really tight tonight, huh?”
I tried to laugh it off. “Yeah, I… dressed up a little.”
“A little?” She let out a light laugh that didn’t reach her eyes. “Girl, we can all see your… everything.”
Heat crawled up my neck. “I just thought—”
“No, it’s fine!” she said quickly, waving her hands. “I’m sure you’re comfortable. That’s what matters. Confidence is… great. Even when… you know…”
She didn’t finish the sentence.
She didn’t have to.
I forced a smile that felt like it might crack my face in half.
Before I could respond, footsteps approached from behind her.
Stephen and Rio came around the corner — and the way they both stopped dead made my stomach flip.
Stephen blinked like I had grown a second head. “Seraphine? Is that you?”
Rio’s eyes widened slightly, dark and calm but undeniably surprised. For a moment, I thought maybe he didn’t recognize me.
Then Stephen slapped Rio hard on the shoulder. “Well, damn.”
Carol cleared her throat loudly. “She definitely… tried something new.”
Stephen shot his wife a look. “Carol.”
“What?” she protested, crossing her arms. “I’m just saying she usually dresses cute and modest. This is… a lot of… body.”