Chapter 4

Seraphina POV

To appease a 'traumatized' Valerie, Julian decided to host a charity auction on Friday night.

It was philanthropy in name only. In truth, it was a stage: to generate publicity for Valerie and formally reintroduce her as the woman of Julian's house.

The evening's centerpiece was an antique grand piano.

It was the grand piano Julian had given me for my eighteenth birthday, after I won the International Chopin Gold Medal.

Now, he was auctioning off that very piano, with all proceeds going to a foundation for the visually impaired, in Valerie's name.

How ironic.

Using his ex-wife's most cherished possession to pave the way for his current flame.

I was ordered to attend.

The reason: as the piano's original owner, I was needed for the final "handover" ceremony.

Humiliation. Pure, unadulterated humiliation.

Backstage at the venue, I stood in a corner, wearing a faded, ill-fitting old gown.

Valerie, in a custom-made gown shimmering like a night sky, was getting her makeup touched up, a princess reborn.

"Seraphina, I'm truly sorry for you." Valerie watched me in the mirror. "Julian said you can't play this piano anymore, and it's just taking up space at home, so it's better to use it for charity."

I looked at the black Steinway grand being wheeled onto the stage.

A faint scratch marred the lid, a tiny mark I'd made with my hairpin when I'd collapsed from exhaustion during practice.

Back then, Julian had been heartbroken, holding me tight, whispering reassurances all night long.

Now, he was selling that memory.

"Good for something, I guess," I said.

Valerie's smile faltered for a moment, then she recovered her sweet demeanor.

"Seraphina, you're so philosophical. Oh, Julian said he wants to play 'Wedding of Love' with me tonight. You don't mind, do you?"

'Wedding of Love.'

It was the song from Julian's and my wedding.

I said nothing, just lowered my gaze to my casted hand.

From the front, the host's voice boomed.

"And now, please welcome Julian and Valerie, as they bring us our opening performance!"

Thunderous applause. The curtain swept open, and two spotlights illuminated the center of the stage.

Julian sat on one side of the piano bench, Valerie on the other.

A four-hand duet.

The scene was picture-perfect.

I stood in the shadows behind the curtain, watching it all unfold.

Once, the one sitting there had been me.

The music began.

Valerie's technique was mediocre at best, riddled with wrong notes, her rhythm unsteady.

But Julian matched her, slowing his pace, using his masterful skill to cover her flaws.

When Valerie made a mistake, he would even turn to her, a doting smile in his eyes.

I felt sick.

I remembered three years ago, how my fingers were raw, covered in angry blisters, from practicing this very song.

Julian had carefully pricked my blisters, whispering, "Seraphina, from now on, play only for me."

Liar.

They were all liars.

The piece ended.

The applause was endless.

The host rushed onto the stage, thrilled.

"Simply breathtaking! This is what true love looks like! Next, we will be auctioning off this piano, a witness to Julian's love story! Starting bid: five million!"

"Ten million!"

The first bid sent a ripple of shock through the room.

Everyone turned.

A tall man in a gray suit, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, walked in from the entrance, holding up a bidding paddle.

Cyrus.

Cyrus Sterling, the head of the Sterling Corporation and Julian's fiercest rival in the business world.

And my former classmate.

The smile on Julian's face vanished instantly.

He stood up and walked to the front of the stage.

"Cyrus, what the hell are you playing at?"

"No particular reason," Cyrus said, adjusting his glasses. "Some things, if the original owner doesn't appreciate them, are better off with someone who does."

Julian saw me.

"Twenty million." Julian spoke.

He clearly regretted putting it up for auction.

"Thirty million," Cyrus said without hesitation.

"Fifty million!" Julian gritted his teeth.

The entire room gasped.

Fifty million for a piano was an astronomical sum.

Cyrus smiled, then put down his paddle.

"Julian, you're as rich as they say. But..."

Cyrus's tone shifted.

"Some things, you can't hold onto forever."

With that, he gave me a deep, knowing look, then turned and left.

In that fleeting glance, I saw a hidden message.

I understood.

Cyrus was helping me.

He was using this method to tell Julian that someone was watching this piano, watching me.

And it meant Julian, for the sake of his ego, would never let that piano leave his possession.

The piano went unsold, remaining with Julian.

Backstage, Julian dragged me into a dressing room.

The door locked with a heavy click.

"What's your relationship with Cyrus?" Julian pinned me against the wall, his eyes bloodshot.

"Nothing."

"Nothing? Then why would he spend thirty million on your damn piano?" Julian's grip on my chin was so tight, I thought my jaw would shatter. "Seraphina, have you already found someone new? That affair three years ago, are you still so shameless?"

"I didn't." I shook my head.

"If you believe I cheated, and now I have someone else, then let me go." I met his gaze directly. "You need to make room for Valerie anyway, and I've signed the donation papers."

"Never!"

Julian snarled.

"You want to leave? Dream on!" Julian's teeth were clenched. "As long as I say no, you're bound to me, in life and in death!"

He tore my gown.

"You want a man? Fine. I'll give you one!"

There was no prelude.

Just a brutal, punitive assault.

I bit down hard on the plaster cast on my arm, choking back every sound.

My tears had long dried. My heart was dead.

When it was over, Julian adjusted his clothes.

"Go to the hospital for pre-op checks tomorrow. Don't go anywhere these next few days."

He slammed the door shut and left.

I lay on the cold floor, my body aching.

I waited.

Waited for the signal Cyrus had left me.

When I'd been shoved earlier, I'd felt a slip of paper pressed into my pocket by Cyrus.

My trembling fingers pulled it out.

It contained only a short line of text and a tiny key.

"Tomorrow night, midnight, back door delivery truck. Locker 302."

The key to my freedom.

Or a one-way ticket to hell.

If I failed, I'd have my legs broken and be locked away forever by Julian.

But I had no choice.

I swallowed the paper and hid the key in the crevices of my cast.

Julian, you left me no choice.