The next morning, a sharp, stinging pain shot through Seraphina's head, pulling her out of sleep.
She groaned, pressing her fingers against her temples, her body protesting every movement. Her throat was dry, her limbs heavy.
Then—fragments of last night crashed into her mind.
The party. The drinks. Elias. The dance. Ezrin.
Her eyes flew open, and she exhaled slowly.
"It was just alcohol," she muttered to herself, forcing the thought away.
As her senses adjusted, she noticed her dress—wrinkled, slightly dirty, the silk fabric creased from the way she had slept.
Before she could process further, a voice cut through the silence.
"You can use my clothes if you want," Ezrin spoke, his tone cold and absolute. "And breakfast is ready."
Her head snapped toward the source—Ezrin stood near the door, arms crossed, watching her with an expression she couldn't quite read.
Ezrin left the room without another word, his footsteps fading down the hall.
Seraphina exhaled, rubbing her temples before dragging herself off the bed. The white shirt he had left for her was crisp, oversized, and smelled faintly of him. She picked it up, then made her way to the bathroom.
The warm water helped ease her headache, but as she stood under the stream, realization struck—it was Saturday. Horizon Initiative had the day off.
"At least I don't have to deal with Elias today," she thought, relieved.
Once out of the shower, she pulled on the white shirt. It fell to her mid-thighs, leaving her legs bare. She sighed—there was nothing else to wear.
Running a hand through her damp hair, she stepped out of the room. Her head still throbbed, but something else was clawing at her now—frustration.
She was in his house. She had slept in his bed.
The thought made her scowl. Of all places, of all situations, why did it have to be Ezrin?
As she walked down the stairs, her eyes wandered over the interior. Dark. Cold. Controlled. Every inch of the penthouse was a reflection of Ezrin himself—minimalistic yet intimidating, elegant yet detached.
Her bare feet barely made a sound against the polished floor as she moved toward the kitchen.
Ezrin was already there, sitting at the dining table, silently eating his breakfast. The crispness of his white shirt, the way he held his fork—everything about him screamed control.
The moment she stepped inside, something inside her shifted. Nervousness. A foreign emotion. One she didn't like.
She was angry at herself for feeling it.
She avoided his gaze, but it didn't matter. Even though he wasn't looking at her, she felt the weight of his presence, the quiet authority in the air.
It was absurd how even in silence, he had control.
Seraphina sat across from him, her breakfast already set before her. Without hesitation, she grabbed the glass filled with a drink meant to ease her hangover and downed it in one go. The bitter taste didn't matter—she just needed relief from the dull ache in her head.
Minutes later, she already felt better.
On the other side of the table, Ezrin remained composed, his expression unreadable as he continued eating. He never looked at her directly, but from the corner of his eye, he saw everything.
And it did nothing good to him.
His shirt—on her. The white fabric draped loosely over her frame, the hem barely reaching mid-thigh. Her legs, bare, stretched out in front of him. Her feet, delicate, pressing against the cold floor.
And then there was her hair—damp, curling slightly at the ends, strands clinging to her neck.
Ezrin's grip on the fork tightened.
Everything about her in that moment was testing his control.
And for the first time in a long time, he felt something he didn't want to feel.
As Seraphina focused on her plate, her movements slow and deliberate, an unexpected moment unfolded.
Their eyes met.
For a second, no longer than that, Ezrin held her gaze, piercing and unwavering, as if looking straight into her soul.
Seraphina froze. It wasn't just a look; it was control, dominance, something deeper that sent an unfamiliar sensation through her.
And the worst part? She couldn't look away.
Her fingers gripped the edge of the table, her breath uneven. The silence between them became heavier, stretching into something almost unbearable.
Then, as if breaking a spell, they both turned away.
Ezrin, unfazed, finished his breakfast and stood up. Without another word, he exited the kitchen, leaving Seraphina alone.
After finishing her breakfast, Seraphina stretched in her chair, debating what to do next. Going home seemed like the best option. With that decision made, she left the kitchen and walked toward the bedroom where she had slept.
But as soon as she reached the threshold, she stopped in her tracks.
Ezrin was standing in front of the mirror, his presence commanding as always. The air in the room shifted.
He didn't turn around. "What?" His deep voice filled the silence.
Seraphina hesitated for only a second before replying, "I was about to leave, so I thought of taking my things."
Ezrin turned now, his piercing gaze locking onto her. He always made her clarify herself, made her feel like she needed to explain every move she made. And she hated it.
His gaze flickered over her, taking in her bare legs, the oversized white shirt that hung loosely on her frame, her damp hair cascading over her shoulders.
"In this state?" His voice was low, carrying a dangerous edge.
That was when it hit her. She wasn't exactly dressed to leave.
But she refused to let him see her falter. She crossed her arms, lifting her chin. "What can I do? I have to go."
Ezrin's expression didn't change, but something shifted in his eyes. He stepped forward, closing the space between them. "And walk through the city like this?"
Seraphina clenched her jaw. He was always like this. Always pushing, always making her second-guess herself.
But she wasn't going to let him win. Not this time.
She held his gaze, unwavering. "That's my problem, isn't it?"
Ezrin didn't stop her. "Ok, as you wish," he said, his tone unreadable, before turning back to the mirror, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt with precise movements.
Seraphina didn't linger. She stepped inside, grabbed her things, and made her way toward the main entrance. Each step felt measured, controlled, but her mind was anything but.
The moment she pushed open the door, she felt it—the weight of curious gazes.
Guards. Staff. People who had seen her walk in last night.
Dressed in nothing but his shirt.
Her grip tightened around the shirt, but her expression remained neutral. She didn't care. Wouldn't care.
But just as she took her first step outside, his voice cut through the air, absolute.
"Get in the car."
She froze for a second, then continued walking.
Ezrin's voice came again, sharper this time. "I said, get in the car. I won't repeat myself. Get inside, or I'll make you."
Her heart skipped.
She turned slightly, just enough to glance over her shoulder. His gaze was locked on her, unyielding, his patience thinning by the second.
And in that moment, she knew—this wasn't a request.
She knew he would make her do it.
There was no point in testing his limits—not when his gaze was so firm, so unwavering. Without another word, she silently slipped into the car.
As Seraphina stepped into the car, her eyes landed on her clutch resting on the dashboard.
She froze for a second, realization hitting her. She had left it at the hall. But somehow, it was here.
Her fingers hesitantly reached for it, and as she clutched it in her hands, she turned her gaze slightly toward Ezrin.
He had gotten it for her.
She didn't say anything, just stared at the clutch in her lap, her thoughts tangled. Why did he even bother?
The ride remained silent, tension thick in the air.
When the car finally pulled in front of her apartment building, she took a deep breath and stepped out. Before leaving, she turned slightly toward Ezrin.
"Thank you."
Her voice was quiet, almost hesitant.
Ezrin didn't respond. His sharp gaze stayed on her for a second before he looked away, as if dismissing the moment entirely.
Without waiting, Seraphina turned and walked inside, gripping her clutch a little tighter than before.
Ezrin drove straight to Oblivion Division, his mind still clouded with thoughts he didn't want to entertain. The moment he stepped inside, his usual cold demeanor settled back into place—control restored.
Meanwhile, Seraphina stepped into her apartment, shut the door behind her, and groaned.
"Ahhhhhhhh, what is happening to me?"
She pressed her hands to her temples, trying to block out the flood of memories from last night—the alcohol, the dance, Ezrin's grip, his voice, the way he looked at her.
Everything felt like a blur, but at the same time, too vivid.
She kicked off her shoes and collapsed onto her couch, staring at the ceiling.
"This is not happening. I need to focus."
But no matter how much she tried to convince herself, her heart was still beating a little too fast.
The doorbell rang.
Seraphina, still lost in her thoughts, walked over and opened the door—only to see Lena standing there, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
Lena's gaze traveled over her, taking in the oversized white shirt, the messy hair, and the undeniable exhaustion on her face.
"What the hell happened to you?" she blurted out before stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.
Seraphina closed the door, pressing her temples as her headache refused to fade.
Lena turned to her again, this time with narrowed eyes. "But first, where were you for the last three days? And now I'm seeing you like... this?"
Seraphina sighed, dragging a hand down her face before slumping onto the couch. She had no energy to hide anything right now.
So, she told her everything.
From the night at the event to waking up in Ezrin's penthouse.
By the time she finished, Lena was sitting beside her, staring at her in complete shock.
"You're telling me..." Lena began, eyes wide. "You got drunk, ended up in his penthouse, wore his shirt, and he—" she paused, then suddenly gasped. "Oh my god, did something happen between you two?!"
Seraphina groaned. "No! Nothing happened. And stop looking at me like that."
Lena smirked, clearly enjoying this far more than she should. "But something almost happened, didn't it?"
Seraphina threw a cushion at her. Lena only laughed.
Lena caught the cushion and leaned back, grinning. "Okay, okay, so nothing happened. But you're telling me Ezrin carried you, took care of you, and made sure you didn't get into trouble? That's… not very CEO-like of him, don't you think?"
Seraphina rolled her eyes. "He was just making sure I didn't make a mess of myself. Nothing more."
Lena raised an eyebrow. "Mhm. And that's why he brought you to his penthouse instead of just calling a driver?"
Seraphina opened her mouth to argue but then paused. That thought had been in the back of her mind too. Why had he insisted on taking her himself? He could've easily let the drivers drop her home.
Seeing her hesitation, Lena smirked. "See? Even you think it's weird. Admit it, Seraphina—he's not acting like this for no reason."
Seraphina exhaled, rubbing her temples. "Even if that's the case, why would someone like him care?"
Lena shrugged. "That's what I want to know. I mean, this is Ezrin Theon Holloway we're talking about. The man barely acknowledges people, let alone personally takes care of them. And yet, here you are, wearing his shirt, sitting in your apartment, questioning everything."
Seraphina groaned, burying her face in her hands. "I hate that you're making sense right now."
Lena laughed. "Oh, trust me, I love it." Then she leaned in, eyes gleaming with curiosity. "But tell me… when you woke up in his penthouse, what did he say?"
Seraphina hesitated before replying. "He told me I could borrow his clothes and that breakfast was ready."
Lena blinked. "Wait, wait. He made you breakfast?"
Seraphina shook her head. "No, it was just there. I don't think he made it himself."
Lena sighed dramatically. "Still, rich, powerful, and feeding you? Seraphina, you might just be living in a romance novel."
Seraphina shot her a glare. "Shut up."
Lena laughed again but then tilted her head, her expression softening. "Okay, jokes aside—how do you feel about all of this?"
Seraphina looked away, thinking. Conflicted. Confused. Unsettled. But most of all, annoyed—at herself, at Ezrin, at whatever was happening between them that she couldn't fully understand yet.
Finally, she sighed. "I don't know, Lena. I really don't know."
Lena nodded, watching her carefully. "Well, you better figure it out soon, because something tells me Ezrin won't let you ignore it for long."
I need distraction, working will do it.
Lena sighed dramatically, throwing her hands up. "Fine, fine. Go bury yourself in work like you always do. But don't think this conversation is over."
Seraphina rolled her eyes and stood up. "It is for me." She grabbed her laptop from the table and sat down, opening it with determination. "Work is the best thing for me to do right now."
Lena leaned back, watching her. "You say that like it's going to erase everything that happened."
Seraphina didn't look up. "It won't. But at least it'll keep me from overthinking."
Lena hummed, amused. "Uh-huh. Sure. But don't forget, avoidance doesn't make things disappear. It just delays them."
Seraphina ignored her, already diving into her work. Seeing this, Lena smirked and stood up. "Alright, I'll leave you to your coping mechanism. But when you're ready to admit you're in deep, call me."
Seraphina waved her off without looking. "Bye, Lena."
Lena laughed as she walked to the door. "Bye, workaholic. Try not to think about a certain cold-eyed CEO while you type away."
The door closed behind her, and Seraphina let out a breath, shaking her head. "I won't." But even as she stared at her screen, her mind was already betraying her.
Seraphina immersed herself completely in her work, shutting out every lingering thought that tried to creep in. The more she focused, the easier it became—analyzing reports, cross-referencing files, and searching for inconsistencies. Hours passed in silence, the only sound being the occasional click of her keyboard and the rustle of papers.
Then, finally, she found it—another inconsistency. Her eyes narrowed as she traced the details, connecting it to previous findings. It wasn't just a small error; it was something deliberate, hidden beneath layers of fabricated information.
She leaned back in her chair, exhaling sharply. "Got you."
Her mind was now fully in investigative mode, her earlier frustrations and distractions replaced by a sharp sense of purpose. This wasn't just work anymore—it was a lead, another step closer to the truth. And she wasn't going to stop now.
Seraphina's mind raced ahead, calculating her next moves with precision. As a security consultant, she had access to Horizon Initiative's surveillance system—it wouldn't be difficult to retrieve the footage once she was back at work. But that wasn't enough. She needed the original, untouched version. That's where Kieran came in.
She grabbed her phone, quickly typing out a message before calling him. When he picked up, she didn't waste time.
"I sent you a report. There's a specific footage I need—can you retrieve the original for me?" Her voice was firm, businesslike.
Kieran was silent for a moment before responding. "Consider it done."
She smirked, satisfied. By the time she got back to Horizon Initiative, Kieran would have the raw footage, and she could compare both versions. If there were inconsistencies—if anything had been altered, she would know.
And if someone had tampered with it, she would find them.
Her plan was set. First, the footage, then the manipulation. Everything was falling into place. With that, she glanced at the clock, already 4 PM.
Letting out a sigh, she stood up, ate a quick lunch, and got ready for Oblivion Division. As she stepped outside and slid into the car, her mind involuntarily drifted back to Ezrin—the way he looked at her, the control in his presence, the silent tension between them.
Little did she know, at that very moment, Ezrin was experiencing the same.
As the car pulled up in front of Oblivion Division, Seraphina stepped out with purpose. The cold night air did little to clear her mind—she was too focused on what she had discovered. Without hesitation, she walked through the sleek, dimly lit corridors, her heels clicking against the polished floor.
Ignoring the curious glances of a few agents, she headed straight for Ezrin's office. She needed to tell him what she had found. There was no time to waste.
Reaching his door, she didn't bother knocking. She pushed it open and stepped inside. Ezrin was behind his desk, his sharp eyes lifting from the documents in front of him.
His gaze locked onto hers, unreadable yet piercing. "You have something," he stated rather than asked.
Seraphina nodded, stepping forward. "Yes. And you're going to want to hear this."
Ezrin leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled as he listened to every detail she laid out. His expression remained unreadable, but she could tell he was processing every word, every clue she had uncovered.
When she finished, a slow smirk played on her lips. "Elias made a big mistake handing me this case for a so-called second opinion," she said, satisfaction lacing her voice. "The reference files had a lot more in them than he thought."
Ezrin tilted his head slightly, his gaze sharpening. "Then let's make sure that mistake costs him."