Cassian Wolfe's penthouse was exactly what Sera thought it would be: clean, sterile, and cold.

It was at the top of Wolfe Tower and had a stunning view of Manhattan. The windows went from floor to ceiling, and below them, in the dark of night, the city sparkled like diamonds. But the beauty only made things worse.

This wasn't a house. It was a stage.

A place that is meant to show off success, not comfort. A place where every vase, piece of art, and edge was sharpened to scare people.

Sera stood at the door to the master bedroom with a leather travel case in her hand. The older, stoic housekeeper had led her to the room that Cassian said would be hers. It was simple and had colours like ash, steel, and snow.

There were no personal things. No pictures. Not soft.

There was only one line of text written on a white card on the bedside table: 8 a.m. breakfast. By 6, the calendar will be sent.

A schedule for a business wife.

Sera dropped her bag and looked at the unmade bed. It was too empty and clean, like it had never really slept before. Only performance.

She didn't like it.

A knock on her door woke her up at 6:00 a.m.

It wasn't Cassian. The same housekeeper brought it, and it was a digital tablet with a breakfast menu and a calendar.

She tapped the screen. A press release at 9:00 a.m. A chance to take pictures at 11:00. At 1:00, lunch with an investor. Fitting at four o'clock. Dinner by herself.

Every hour cut out like she was a mannequin in a store window.

And the last note: “Get ready for the press conference tomorrow. Wolfe will give you a quick update. No change in the story.”

She looked at it until the words were hard to read.

She was starting to feel like an actress who got her script too late. There were no practice runs or table reads. It's only the first night, and the critics are watching closely.

The doorbell rang.

She thought there would be staff. But it was Cassian! He walked in without saying anything.

He was wearing a navy suit that cost more than her old college tuition. He had a cup of black coffee in one hand and a folder in the other.

He later said, “Good morning,” without any warmth.

“Is it?” she said, not looking up.

He sat across from her in the living room and put the folder on the marble coffee table. “We have to go to the press conference tomorrow.” These are the things you should say.

She opened the file. There were bullet points inside. Written phrases.

“We're thankful for this new beginning.”

“Our families have a long, complicated past, but we are stronger together.”

“I believe in second chances.”

She looked up. “Second chances? Who—me or you?”

Cassian didn't smile. “This isn't about saying you're sorry, Sera. It's all about how it looks.”

She shut the folder. “And when do we tell people that we are married?”

He drank some coffee. “Not yet. That will happen next week. We want to be in charge of the story. Don't drown in the scandal; drip-feed it.”

“And when can I say something real?”

He looked her in the eye and spoke harshly. “When real starts paying the bills.”

She got up. “You really think people will believe this?”

Cassian also stood up, and now he was taller than her. “They won't have to. They'll just have to want it.”

Their silence grew longer, full of tension.

Finally, he made his way to the lift.

Before he left, he said, “You will wear the black Dior tomorrow. My assistant had it changed already.”

“Of course she did,” Sera said quietly.

Sera ran away to the rooftop garden that night.

She needed some air.

It was lush, which surprised her. An odd oasis in a steel fortress. The noise from the city was far away and muffled.

She stood on the grass with no shoes on, letting the wind blow her hair around as she tried to breathe.

She let herself forget for a moment. The news. The money owed. The ring on her finger that wasn't real.

She looked up at the sky and thought about what her father would say if he saw her now.

He would call her brave. Or he might call her stupid.

Both were true.

A voice behind her said, “Nice place to brood.”

She turned around.

Leo.

She blinked. “What are you doing here?”

“I gave the doorman money.” He didn't care. “Also, tabloids aren't exactly hiding you right now.”

He held up a newspaper that was folded. Wolfe's Daughter? It said. The front page had a blurry picture of her getting out of Cassian's car.

Sera sighed and accepted it. “They don't waste time.”

Leo looked at her. “So. How does it feel to own the most beautiful iceberg in Manhattan?”

She made an effort to smile. “Colder than I thought.”

They sat on a short bench.

He said, “I'm worried about you.”

“I know.”

“You don't have to do this by yourself.”

She didn't say anything.

He took a small envelope out of his coat. “I found something about Cassian.”

She took her time. There were clippings inside. Reports from the past. Messages. A picture of Cassian at a biotech company's shareholders' meeting. The company went out of business six months later for reasons that are still unclear.

“Do you think he's hiding something?”

“I believe he has a plan. And I believe that you are more than just a shield for him.”

Sera looked out over the city. “Maybe.” But I agreed. I signed the forms. Tomorrow, I'll wear the ring.”

Leo's voice was quiet. “Then wear it like a knife.”

The next day, the press conference took place in a historic ballroom in the city centre.

Cassian came in wearing a charcoal suit and was calm and unreadable. Sera stood next to him in the Dior, which was black, fitted, and perfect.

The cameras went off. The whispers buzzed. The city wanted to know.

Cassian was the first to speak.

“Thanks to everyone who came. We're here to do two things: tell you about a new partnership between Wolfe Capital and the Calloway legacy, and share something personal.”

Sera's cue.

She moved forward.

“Cassian and I have been friends since we were kids. We have found a way to move forward after everything our families have been through. Together.”

She spoke calmly, but her back hurt. She could feel the attention on her skin like static.

A journalist raised a hand. “So this... relationship... is real?”

Cassian put a hand on her back.

He said, “More than real. It's needed.”

Flashbulbs went off.

But Sera could only hear one word in her head.

“Pawn”.

She grinned.

They took pictures.

The game was on.

Sera looked at the engagement ring Cassian had put on her finger just before the press got there. It shone like it had a soul.

“It fits,” he said without much thought.

“So does the lie.”

He didn't say anything.

She got out of the car as soon as they got back to the penthouse. The housekeeper gave her a soft nod, but that was too much for her.

She locked the door to her room. She needed a place that felt like home.

She lay down on the bed in her Dior clothes and let the weight of the day crush her.

Cassian Wolfe was ahead.

But she still had more games to play.