Serena vane's day had already gone to hell before it truly began.
"We're letting you go, serena.The words from her manager still rang in her ears like an insult that refused to fade.
No warning,No thank you,Just a cardboard box and pitying stares. She had spent
three years breaking her back for that company-late nights,Ask anything weekends, unpaid hours and they
discarded her like she was nothing.
Rain poured as if the sky itself mourned her.
The elevator doors shut behind cerena vane with a cruel finality. She walked out of the law firm where she'd poured two years of her life, gripping a white envelope like it was the last piece of her pride.
"Terminated effective immediately."
Budget cuts,Restructuring,HR spin. But everyone knew the truth: Sarah from HR had finally gotten her revenge after Zara exposed internal fraud last quarter. No thank you. No goodbyes. Just silence and the sound of her heels against marble.
She wandered the street in a haze, phone buzzing with pity texts she couldn't bear to open. Her world was cracking, and there was only one person who might make it feel less cruel.
Jason,Her boyfriend. Her safehouse.
She didn't tell him about the firing—yet. But he'd understand. He always had.
A cab dropped her off in front of his block and decided to walk a little,but the cold walk didn't soothe her boiling thoughts. She needed comfort, validation, love-anything
to remind her she mattered to Someone.
She knocked,Once,Twice. No
answer.
Frowning, she dug into her bag and
pulled out the spare key he had
given her months ago, hesitated,she used the spare key he'd given her.
"For emergencies," he'd said. If not now, then when? then she unlocked the door.
Inside, silence greeted her. Then—soft moaning. Not music. Something primal.
Her blood iced.
Serena followed the sound. It led to his bedroom. Door cracked open. She pushed it.
Jason was inside. With someone else.
No—worse. With Tamara —Her best friend since college.
Naked,Laughing Mid-thrust.
They didn't even stop.
Jason met her gaze and smirked. "Didn't think you'd come by today."
Serena stood frozen, heart bleeding, lips trembling. "Jason…?"
Serena stood there shivering from
shock and soaked clothes.
"Everything I did for you... all the
sacrifices..."
"Yeah, well, I didn't ask you to," he
said coldly. "Now get out."
He threw a pillow at her like she
was the intruder.
"Your body never did it for me," he said casually. "Tamara's fire. You were charity."
"I loved you!"
He shrugged. "And look where that got you."
Tamara chuckled softly ."You're embarrassing yourself serena."
Serena turned away before she shattered completely.
"Close the door on your way out," Jason said.
Serena backed out
slowly, heart in shards, vision
blurred.
She ran out into the rain.
And she didn't look back.
---
Serena clutched her duffel bag in the back of a rusting taxi as the city blurred past, tears hot on her cheeks. Fired. Betrayed. Abandoned.
Her family hadn't picked up her calls. Again. No one ever did when it counted.
The driver glanced back. "You okay, miss?"
"I will be," she lied.
The radio played a love song. She almost laughed.
They pulled to a stop downtown. No plan. No home. Just numbness.
She stepped out into the night.
And that's when the black car pulled up. Sleek. Quiet. Tinted windows.
A woman stepped out. Older, Regal, Silver hair and dark eyes with grace in every movement.
"You're Serena vane?" she asked.
Serena froze. "Who are you?"
"My name is Vivienne . I believe we're fated to meet."
"Sorry. Not interested in small talks tonight."
Vivienne's lips curled. "Neither am I. But I am here to help you."
"You are still not helping."
"I know you have nowhere to go," Vivienne said calmly. "Your job's gone. Your love betrayed you. Your family? Absent. But I am here to offer you purpose."
Selena frowned. "What kind of purpose?"
"There is a man— My grandson. His life depends on someone like you. Broken, yes But unyielding."
Serena narrowed her eyes. "I'm not some prophecy girl."
"And yet," Vivienne said softly, "you followed your gut here, didn't you?"
It felt like madness. But her instincts weren't screaming danger. Just mystery.
Selena exhaled. "If this is a trick—"
"It's not."
"Are you sure …Fine. I'll hear you out."
Vivienne smiled. "Good girl."
Serena entered the car.
---
The estate loomed like something out of a gothic dream—marble walls, iron gates, gardens manicured with surgical precision.
Inside, everything reeked of power.
Vivienne turned to her. "You'll meet him tomorrow. Tonight, rest and you will know about everything."
Selena nodded stiffly. She was shown to a guest room with silk sheets and chandeliers.
She lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling.
A man's life tied to hers?
This was insane.
But it was better than being forgotten.
--
Lucien Thorn stood on his balcony, the skyline bathing him in cold gray light. A half-empty whiskey glass dangled from his fingers.
He was dying.
Six years left. Maybe five. The illness didn't care about legacy or wealth.
Behind him, Vivienne stepped onto the balcony.
"Still breathing,"lucien said dryly.
"I brought someone."
He turned, annoyed. "Another therapist? Psychic?"
"No. A girl."
He rolled his eyes. "You're matchmaking now?"
"She's a mirror, Lucien. Fractured. But intact."
"She's not my type."
"She's not supposed to be. She's your option to fight."
Lucien looked away. "I don't need saving."
"No," Vivienne agreed. "You need a reason to live."
He drained his glass. "Fine. I'll meet her. Once."
---
Celene dressed in the morning, her curls pinned back, a soft blue dress hugging her frame.
Her reflection showed someone unfamiliar. Hardened. Still standing.
The butler knocked. "Mr. Thorn will see you now."
Selena followed him down halls of marble and silence.
Lucien stood by the window, tall and distant in black slacks and an open shirt.
He turned. Hazel eyes. Sharp jaw. Beautiful in a cold, lethal way.
"And you are?" he asked.
"Selena."
"My grandmother thinks you're my miracle."
"She told me about the 'prophecy.' I think it's ridiculous."
He smirked. "Good. You're not a fool."
She crossed her arms. "I'm not here to fall for you."
"Excellent. I'm not here to be loved."
They stared at each other. Two strangers. Two storms.
"I need a wife," he said. "Public image. Corporate pressure. You need a reset. Let's strike a deal."
"A fake marriage?"
"Exactly. You get shelter. Privacy. Resources. I get silence and control."
She hesitated.
"What's the catch?"
"No emotions. No complications."
Selena folded her arms. "Fine. But I have conditions."
"Name them."
"No touching. No lying. No interfering with my space."
"Done. Mine: no drama. No jealousy. No falling in love."
Selena's lips curled. "Please. I'd rather marry a snake."
He extended his hand. "Then let's poison the altar together."
She shook it.
And the contract of thorns began.