The next morning, I wake up with a heavy heart, the events of the previous night still lingering like a dark cloud over my thoughts. 

The tension from yesterday hasn't dissolved, and instead of dissipating with sleep, it has settled into my bones, making my limbs feel weighted, my mind foggy.

I lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, trying to muster the energy to get out of bed. 

My emotions are tangled, a mix of frustration, anger, and something I don't want to admit—hurt. I hate that I feel this way, that I let last night affect me so much. 

But the truth is, I can't shake the image of Eleanor and Lucien together, can't silence the echo of their laughter or the way she looked at me, so smug and victorious.

I should be used to this by now, used to the constant push and pull, the mind games, the subtle jabs. 

I've dealt with far worse—deceit, betrayal, bloodshed. And yet, this... this feels different. It's personal in a way that nothing else has been before. 

Lucien isn't just anyone; he's someone I love, someone I thought understood.

Seeing him with her, watching the way he looked at her—it felt like a betrayal I hadn't seen coming.

A part of me knows I should let it go, that I should focus on the bigger picture.

 There's too much at stake, too many lives depending on the decisions I make. 

But another part of me, the part that's still reeling from last night, can't seem to move on. It's like a splinter in my mind, small but irritating, impossible to ignore.

I sit up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed, and bury my face in my hands. 

I need to be stronger than this. I've been through worse. 

I've stared death in the face and come out the other side. I've sacrificed too much to let something like this derail me.

But even as I tell myself this, the hurt lingers, a dull ache in my chest. It's not just about Lucien and Eleanor—it's about everything I've lost, everything I've given up to be where I am. 

I've  made sacrifices, I've chosen this path, but in moments like these, I wonder if it's all worth it.

I take a deep breath, forcing myself to push the thoughts aside. 

There's no time for self-pity. I have a job to do, and I can't afford to let my emotions get in the way. 

But as I get up and start my day, the weight of it all remains, a constant reminder of the price I've paid, and the battles I still have to fight.

I know I need to focus, to channel this frustration into something productive. 

But as I go through the motions, the heavy silence of the morning only amplifies the chaos inside my head. 

I can't help but think about how things used to be, how simple it all was before... before everything got so complicated. 

Before marrying Lucien. 

Before Eleanor. 

Before the lines between duty and desire became so blurred.

I pull on my clothes, the routine bringing some semblance of normalcy, but I can't shake the feeling that something has shifted irrevocably. 

That the path I'm on is leading me further away from who I used to be, from the person I once thought I was.

Today, I'm going to the university. 

It's a small escape from the chaos at home and a chance to immerse myself in something familiar.

"Just breathe," I tell myself as I shower and dress in a simple yet elegant outfit. The routine is comforting, a small act of normalcy in an otherwise tumultuous time.

The drive to campus is soothing. The city is waking up around me, with bustling streets and quiet corners flashing by. 

When I arrive at the university, I take a deep breath, savoring the sense of normalcy that the campus brings.

Walking through the familiar hallways and lecture rooms, I feel a sense of relief wash over me. I sit through my classes, diligently taking notes and participating in discussions.

"Hey, Sera, you seem more focused than usual," my teacher Alex comments as we exit a lecture hall.

"Just trying to keep my mind off things," I reply with a small smile, grateful for the distraction.

During lunch, I meet up with Cynthus. His easy-going nature is a balm to my frayed nerves.

"Hey, Sera! Long time no see," he greets me with a warm hug. "What's been going on?"

"Just life, you know," I say, forcing a chuckle. "How about you?"

"Oh, the usual. Classes, projects, and trying to survive," he replies with a grin. "Come on, let's grab a bite. I have some hilarious stories to tell you."

We chat about our courses, mutual friends, and future plans. He doesn't pry into my personal life too much, which is a relief.

"Remember that time we pulled an all-nighter for Professor Lee's project?" Cynthus asks, laughing.

"How could I forget? You almost fell asleep during the presentation," I reply, genuinely laughing for the first time in days.

After our last class, I decide to head to my favorite café to study. The cozy corner booth and the gentle hum of conversation around me provide the perfect backdrop as I dive into my books.

As I sip my coffee and highlight my notes, the familiar scent of coffee and the comforting routine of studying ground me. 

***

I'm lost in my studies when my phone buzzes. It's a reminder about the club opening I need to attend tonight, an important event for maintaining alliances. Panic rises as I realize I don't have enough time to go home and change.

"Not now," I mutter to myself, quickly gathering my things. I make a call to Gabriella's salon, hoping she can fit me in on such short notice. 

Fortunately, she can.

The drive to the salon is a blur of city lights and rushing thoughts. Gabriella's salon is nestled among a row of luxurious boutiques, a testament to her impeccable taste and business acumen.

Despite the challenges of our world, she's managed to create a space where she can thrive.

Married, yet fiercely independent, she's a shining example of what women can achieve, even in a society that often underestimates us.

"Serafina, darling!" Gabriella greets me with a warm hug. "What brings you here in such a rush?"

"I have a club opening to attend," I explain, slightly breathless. "I need to look presentable, and I don't have time to go home."

She nods understandingly, leading me to a plush chair. "Say no more. We'll make you look stunning."

As Gabriella and her team work their magic, I feel a sense of calm wash over me. They style my hair into an elegant up do, apply flawless makeup, and help me choose an outfit from a selection of evening gowns Gabriella keeps for such emergencies.

"You're a lifesaver, Gabby," I say, admiring my reflection in the mirror.

She smiles, her eyes twinkling. "Anything for you, Serafina. Now go, knock them dead."

I call my driver, and soon I'm on my way to the event. I have no idea if Lucien is attending or even if he's invited, but I push that thought aside. 

This is about maintaining alliances and projecting strength. 

I arrive at the club, stepping out of the car with my head held high.

Inside, the atmosphere is buzzing with excitement. I navigate through the crowd, engaging in polite conversations with various guests.

"Serafina, it's been ages! How's married life treating you?" asks an older woman, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

"Wonderful, thank you," I lie smoothly, forcing a smile. "Lucien and I are very happy."

"Oh, I'm so glad to hear that. You make such a lovely couple," she says, patting my hand.

As the night progresses, a group of spoiled brats approaches me. They're the kind who thrive on gossip and drama, always looking to stir trouble.

"Where's Lucien?" one of them sneers, their tone dripping with sarcasm as they circle me like vultures. "Too busy to accompany his lovely wife?"

The words hit like a slap, but I refuse to let it show. I've dealt with worse than their petty jabs. I feel a surge of anger bubbling up, but I push it down, forcing a calm smile. 

"He's occupied with work," I reply smoothly, my voice steady. "Important business to attend to." I let the implication hang in the air—because we all know there's no business more important than what Lucien does.

But they don't care about subtlety. They laugh, a chorus of cruelty that grates on my nerves. "Or maybe he just didn't want to come. Can't blame him, can we?" one of them quips, their grin wide as if they've scored some victory.

I can feel the heat rising in my chest, the sting of their words cutting deeper than I want to admit. They're testing me, waiting to see if I'll break.

And for a moment, I consider letting them have it, tearing them down with the sharp edge of my tongue.

But just as I'm about to respond, the room falls silent. It's as if the air itself has shifted, the atmosphere crackling with tension. I turn, and there he is—Lucien. 

He steps into the club with an air of authority that demands respect, his mere presence commanding immediate attention. 

The way he carries himself, with that effortless confidence, sends a clear message: he's in control, and anyone who challenges that will regret it.

His eyes find mine across the room, and for a moment, everything else fades away.

 There's an intensity in his gaze that I can't quite place, a mixture of emotions that he keeps carefully guarded. 

The air between us feels electric, charged with all the things we've left unsaid.

He makes his way over to us, the crowd parting as he moves. His expression is unreadable, but there's a hardness to his features that I recognize—Lucien is not in the mood for games. 

"Is there a problem here?" he asks, his voice cold, cutting through the tension like a blade.

The group of brats who were so eager to provoke me a moment ago quickly lose their bravado. 

They stumble over themselves, mumbling excuses as they retreat, their arrogance evaporating in the face of Lucien's silent fury. 

I watch them scurry away, my heart still pounding in my chest.

Lucien stands beside me, his presence a protective barrier against the world. He doesn't say anything at first, just looks at me with those piercing eyes that seem to see everything. 

"You look beautiful tonight," he says softly, the words almost a whisper, but they carry a weight that's impossible to ignore.

"Thank you," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper, too. There's so much between us, so much that remains unspoken, but in this moment, I let it be. 

The tension between us is palpable, a mixture of unspoken words and unresolved feelings. 

I can feel it in the way his eyes linger on me, in the way his hand brushes mine as we stand there.

We spend the rest of the evening together, moving through the crowd with practiced ease, mingling with the guests, and reinforcing our alliances. 

On the surface, everything is as it should be—we're the perfect power couple, united in front of everyone who matters. 

But beneath the facade, there's an undercurrent of strain, a tension that never fully dissipates.

Still, having Lucien by my side feels like a small victory, a silent affirmation that, despite everything, we're still in this together. At least, for now.

"Glad you could make it," I say, trying to keep my tone light, though I can't quite hide the hint of relief in my voice.

"I wouldn't miss it," he replies, his eyes searching mine for something unspoken, something he seems unable—or unwilling—to articulate.

For a moment, we just stand there, the noise of the party fading into the background. 

It's just the two of us, caught in this strange limbo between duty and desire, between what we are and what we could have been. 

I wonder if he feels it too—the weight of all that's unsaid, the unresolved tension that hangs between us like a storm cloud.

And as the night goes on, I can't help but wonder how long we can keep up this charade, how long we can continue pretending that everything is fine when, deep down, we both know it's anything but.

Later, as we leave the club, I can't help but feel a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, amidst the chaos and uncertainty, there's still a chance to salvage something from the wreckage of our lives.

Back home, the silence is deafening. I change out of my gown and sit by the window, staring out into the night. 

The events of the day swirl in my mind, a tangled mess of emotions. 

I think about my decision to bring Eleanor into our lives, the regret and frustration that decision has caused. 

I think about my dreams, the ones I once held so close, now seemingly out of reach.

Tears well up in my eyes as I consider the future. I chose this path, hoping to bring happiness to Lucien, but now it feels like a mistake. 

The weight of my choices, the reality of our situation, is crushing.

"I brought her here for you, Lucien," I whisper to the empty room. "So you could be happy. And now... it's strangling me."

I think about Eleanor's constant presence, her blatant attempts to come between us. "I wanted you to have a chance at happiness, but all I did was invite this nightmare into our lives."

Silent tears stream down my face as I recall my dreams, the ones where Lucien would see me as more than just an ally, more than just a partner in duty. 

"I wanted you to fall in love with me, Lucien. But now... all those dreams are shattered."

I bury my face in my hands, sobs wracking my body. "Why did I think this would work? Why did I believe that bringing Eleanor here would solve anything?"

The reality is suffocating. My heart aches with the weight of my decisions, the realization that I might have lost Lucien forever. "I thought I was making the right choice. I thought... I could make you happy."

But the truth is harsh and unforgiving. "Now, I'm just left with this... emptiness. This regret."

I cry until I have no more tears left, the pain and sorrow overwhelming. "I don't know how to fix this. I don't know how to make things right."

As the night deepens, I finally fall into a restless sleep, haunted by the choices I've made and the love I fear I'll never have.