Chapter 62 Aftermath
Seraphina did not remember leaving the dark room.
The last clear moment she could hold onto was the overwhelming sensation of him inside her, of her body surrendering in ways she had never known it could. After that, everything had dissolved into fragments—heat, exhaustion, and a darkness that had taken her whole.
Now, she was only vaguely aware of being carried.
Her head rested against something solid and warm. Her arms felt heavy and useless. Her body did not belong to her in that moment. She tried to open her eyes, but they only fluttered weakly.
She caught a glimpse of him.
Julian’s gray eyes.
They were not cold this time around.
They were not guarded.
They were watching her carefully. Then darkness took her again.
—
Morning came eventually.
Seraphina stirred with reluctance, her body heavy, weak and warm beneath the covers. For a moment, she did not move, her mind still caught between sleep and memory.
Then she felt it.
The soreness between her legs.
The faint tingling that was yet to disappear.
Her eyes opened fully, and the events of the previous night returned to her all at once.
The dark room.
The red light.
His hands on her.
His filthy words and voice that wouldn’t stop echoing in her head now that she was awake.
Her breath hitched softly.
She turned her head instinctively, expecting to see him beside her.
He wasn’t there.
The space beside her was empty.
Her chest tightened unexpectedly. She pushed herself up slowly, her muscles protesting with every movement. She became aware then that she was in her own room.
Not his.
Her brows furrowed.
She remembered being carried.
She remembered the warmth of his arms that she wished she never stop feeling.
Why had he brought her here instead of taking her to his room?
The question lingered in her chest, heavier than she wanted to admit.
The memories of the night clung to her stubbornly, vivid and impossible to ignore.
The way he had touched her.
The way he had restrained her.
The way he had taken his time, as if there was nowhere else he needed to be.
Her body reacted to the memories, a slow warmth spreading through her again.
She inhaled sharply, surprised at herself.
She wanted him again.
The realization unsettled her.
Was this what made it addictive for others? For Joanne?
Her gaze dropped to her wrists.
Faint pink marks were there, evidence of the restraints he used on her. She touched them lightly, feeling the sensitivity.
Her chest rose and fell slowly.
Her nipples still felt tender.
He had been thorough.
He had been patient.
He had been intentional.
Her stomach growled then, breaking her thoughts.
She blinked, suddenly aware of her hunger.
She had told Joye not to bother about cooking her meal yesterday.
She had insisted she would handle everything herself.
Now she regretted it- because she couldn’t bring herself to think of something to eat not to talk of making it by herself. Physically, she was weak. Mentally, her head was still in the previous night.
She didn’t want to move on, but she had to.
She pushed herself out of bed carefully and made her way to the bathroom.
The warm water helped.
She stood under the stream longer than necessary, letting it wash over her, grounding her. She cleaned herself slowly, watching as the physical evidence of the night softened but did not disappear entirely.
When she stepped out and faced the mirror, her breath stuttered.
There were marks around her neck, though faint, but showy enough.
Her fingers hovered over the ones along her chest.
Her cheeks warmed.
She dried herself and began working on her hair, using the dryer slowly as though the routine could help settle her thoughts.
It didn’t.
Julian remained there.
She exhaled slowly. She couldn’t lose focus now.
This marriage had a purpose.
It was to get her father’s journal back. Her mind drifted back to the day she was to meet Damien. Julian didn’t tell her what he discussed with him. And maybe she could get him to talk now? Would Juliam set less boundaries now? Would he share more with her now? She wondered.
She had her father’s most important assets to recover. This marriage was solely for that. The mind-blowing sex was a distraction— and what a worthy one it was, but she wouldn’t allow it push away her purpose.
That was why she was here.
Not for this.
Not for him.
And yet her heart betrayed her, quickening every time she thought of him.
What if Julian wanted her beyond the sex? Her heart pounded louder at the possibility of it, and more surprising, excitement curled her nerves. It scared her. Did she want to be with Julian? A man who killed and dealt with danger for a living?
She didn’t have to provide answer to that now.
She dressed carefully, choosing a flowing pink gown that fell gently over her frame. She left her hair down, allowing it to frame her face and cover the marks she could not afford to be seen even though they all thought she was truly married to Julian.
When she was done, she stepped out of her room and made her way toward the maid quarters.
She needed Joye to make her breakfast. And maybe later, she would worry about how to face Julian again.
When she reached Joye’s door, she noticed it was slightly open.
She paused, wondering if she was inside.
She knocked anyway.
No answer came.
She pushed the door open gently. The door made no sound as she entered. Her eyes caught Joye’s frame on her small-sized but comfy bed. She was still sleeping.
Seraphina was about to turn when her eyes caught another figure beside Joye.
For a second, she thought her eyes were playing games at her. But they weren’t.
She froze. Her eyes fell to squints, the shock almost unbearable to take.
Because naked beside Joye, chest facing the bed with her gray sheets covering them from the waistline down, was the man whom she sees with Julian everytime.
His right-hand man.
Vincent.
She reprocessed the image before her. They were both naked beneath the sheets, their bodies partially exposed in the quiet aftermath of intimacy.
For none of them to feel a presence, that means the previous night had been thorough in the pleasure kind of way for them. She almost felt guilty for judging them because she had been doing same.
For a moment, Seraphina just stood still. She remembered Joye telling her there was a man she liked.
And yesterday, Julian had told her Vincent was seeing someone he was yet to figure out.
Could it be Joye?
Or was it another person he was with and he was only taking advantage of her?