CHAPTER 119

I didn't think I would see them here. Nor anyone or ever, actually. But here they are. The Goddess really do have a creative way of fucking with me.

"Seraphina?" Her name slips out like I've swallowed glass-jagged, hot, pointless.

And there she is.

I don't know how and why she's here but Italy hasn't humbled her. She's sleeker now, her hair is straightened into something sharp, her lips stained deep plum as though she's got places to be and men to kill. She's wearing a designer trench. Heels that click like accusations on concrete. Still walking like she's above everyone else, but now she probably is.

I cross my arms, mostly because I'm freezing and she looks warm and expensive in her tailored coat and those stupid chic sunglasses perched on her head like a tiara.

I feel like an airport rat in comparison-wrinkled jacket, bags under my eyes, adrenaline still dragging claws down my back after the flight and that almost- murder back home.

She looks at me as if I'm a ghost she didn't believe in. “Huh. So it really is you."

A pause. A heartbeat. I'm not sure if I want to punch her or collapse.

"I was told a new consultant was flying in," she says coolly, adjusting her

sunglasses on her head. "I didn't think I'd be scraping the bottom of that particular barrel."

My brow lifts. "Still a bitch. Thank God. I thought Italy might've scrubbed you clean."

She grins. It's not kind. "Please. The day I go soft is the day I die."

I hum. "Shame. I was hoping today might be the day."

She shrugs, a little too cool about it. "Italy's big, but the supernatural circle? Not so much." Then she gestures toward the waiting car like this is fucking normal. "Come on. We'll talk on the drive."

The silence between us is brutal-thick with all the shit we never said and probably won't.

But I follow her toward the waiting car anyway, because what the hell else am I supposed to do? Turn around and fly back to the ruins of my life?

She gestures with a flick of her manicured hand, and I climb into the backseat, spine stiff and fingers curled too tight around my duffel. Inside the car smells like leather and coffee. There's a half-empty bottle of sparkling water in the cupholder and some kind of EDM shit playing quietly from the front speakers. I settle in, tense, while Ser climbs in beside me and pulls the door shut.

This is the same girl who bullied the heavens out of me back then, yet also the first friend I thought I has when I first stepped in the Riverstone Pack.

She hasn't even asked why I'm here. But she knows.

CHAPTER 119

"You look like hell," she says, folding one leg over the other. "Rome's gonna eat you alive."

I shrug. “Let it try." I've had enough for the last week.

The driver doesn't say a word. He doesn't need to. He's paid to pretend we're not

sitting back here like two former enemies dressed in civility and secrets.

"So," she starts, dragging the syllable like it offends her. "You ran.”

I glance out the window. "I survived."

"And now you're here. Working for the same people who fund half the supernatural politics in Europe. Cute."

I turn my head, deadpan. "You done?"

She smirks. "Not even close. But I'll pace myself."

"So..." I say finally, dragging the word out. "You're a what now?"

She snorts, tipping her head back. "A lead secretary. Not exactly what I dreamed of when I was sixteen and delusional about becoming a Luna, huh?”

I glance sideways at her. "Didn't stop you from trying."

She shrugs again, a small wince tightening her face. "Fair. But after you... left, things between me and Kallias turned to absolute shit. Turns out status doesn't warm your bed when he won't touch you."

"Ouch."

bitter and amused. "Don't look so smug. I know I was

me out."

it's never met a bruise." She laughs, and it's real this time. "God, I forgot how fucking annoying you are." The car slides through Rome's streets, past peeling murals and sunburnt domes, and I let the

"So. What

the driver. He

doesn't speak English," Ser says, waving a hand.

My fingers curl tight in my

new start," I mutter. "Things got... dangerous

Majesty?" she asks, too

CHAPTER 119

Which

were mated to the

shit. You and King Ghost-Face-damn. You really like your

say the same about you and

"Touche."

a beat, voice softer but no less dangerous, "I always wondered

tilt my head, curious in that masochistic

She laughs, bitter. "You were always the feral one.

back from the dead with a job and a

Something flickers across her face, and for the first time, I see it-the shadow of guilt. Real or fake? Who the hell knows

those men-after

My body tenses.

Like a madman. After the fire. After your scent disappeared. I thought he was

skin. I hate

him," she says. "But you were already gone,

hard.

answer. Just looks out the window like it's easier to face Rome

me.

you love him?" she asks

that really

I'm asking

pause. "He's not the kind of man you love quietly. He's a

exhales, slow. "That's what

clouds, casting long shadows over the cobblestone street. I step out and immediately smell basil and tobacco,

CHAPTER 119

divorce.

eyes as she locks the car. "Every fucking time I come home, someone's cooking pesto

"Honestly? Vibe."

crooked smile that barely reaches her eyes and leads me inside the building. It's older, but not in a creepy haunted-violin-music way. More like a "this place has history and probably a thousand secrets under the floorboards" kind

walls covered in faded floral

now?" "One of the perks of being a corporate bitch," she smirks, swiping a keycard and motioning for me to follow. "The company pays for language lessons, housing, wardrobe, even your Uber to therapy if you snap from the pressure. And

That... sounds oddly appealing.

me a half- tour with a lazy wave. "Guest room's down the hall. Bathroom's yours

"Sounds promising."

me a pillow

into bed, the adrenaline's finally leaving my system, leaving me raw and sore in all the places you can't see. I stare at the plain ceiling and imagine how my life would've looked if

and shoot a

anyone where I am. Not even Zoe. Not even

try calling Zoe.

Bubbly, clingy Zoe with her tea spills and love for

Straight to voicemail,

I try again. Nothing.

to myself, a sharp prick crawling

call it panic. Not yet.

CHAPTER 119

toss. I turn. I curse at the ceiling like it

Still no sleep.

finally close my eyes. That's when Eris

just appears in my

all fucking night for me to acknowledge

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