The morning light crept through the cracked curtains of Sera's room, soft and pale, as if even the sun dared not shine too brightly on a day like this. She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it would burst through her ribs.
I can't go.
The thought repeated over and over, a desperate prayer. But beneath it, a crueler truth whispered back: You have no choice.
Sera swallowed hard, forcing herself to move. Her body felt heavy, as if weighed down by dread. She stepped into the small bathroom, peeling off her nightdress with trembling hands. The mirror above the cracked sink reflected her pale face, the dark circles beneath her eyes, the fear that clung to her like a second skin.
The water from the shower was lukewarm, sputtering as it came to life. She stood beneath it, letting it run over her, hoping it would wash away the terror, the shame, the memory of William's dark smile.
Her fingers moved slowly, lathering soap over her skin. She scrubbed at herself as if she could erase his touch - the ghost of his hands, his mouth, his voice. The water slid over the swell of her breasts, down her stomach, between her thighs where she still felt the ache of longing she hated herself for.
She lingered beneath the spray, eyes closed, imagining the water as a shield, a barrier between her and the world. But the water couldn't protect her. Nothing could.
When she stepped out, she didn't bother to dry herself properly. She dressed mechanically, pulling on her simple blouse and skirt, her hands clumsy with nerves. She glanced at the small packet of food on the table - breakfast she'd packed for herself the night before - but the very thought of eating turned her stomach.
No appetite. No strength. But I have to go.
She opened the door and stepped outside, the air heavy with the scent of the coming rain.
Her eyes fell on her mother.
Serena sat on the worn stone steps of their small home, her thin hands folded in her lap. Her hair, streaked with silver, hung in a loose braid down her back. The lines on her face were deep, carved by years of worry and hardship. Her clothes was faded, the hem frayed, the blouse beneath too large for her small frame. She had mended it so many times that the stitching itself was visible - a patchwork of sacrifice.
Serena's eyes, so kind and tired, met Sera's. She smiled, though it was a smile heavy with unspoken pain.
"My Sera… you're leaving without breakfast again," she said softly.
Sera's throat tightened. She couldn't speak. She only nodded and turned away, her heart breaking all over again.
If I don't go… he'll hurt her. He'll hurt Gloria. I can't risk it.
Her feet felt like lead as she walked down the lane. Every step was slower than the last, as if her body was trying to delay the inevitable.
And then, she passed him.
Adam.
He stood beneath the shade of a tree, dressed in a simple white shirt and dark trousers, his hair neat, his face clean-shaven. To anyone else, he looked like just another man on his way to work. But his eyes… those storm-gray eyes watched her with concern, with longing, with a quiet promise of protection.
Sera didn't see him.
Her eyes were fixed on the ground, her mind lost in fear. To her, he was invisible.
Adam's heart clenched as he watched her pass, saw the tremble in her steps, the pale cast of her face. He wanted to reach for her, to speak, to help. But he knew.
She only knows me as the beggar.
If he spoke now, if he tried, it would confuse her, frighten her more.
So he let her go.
But not forever.
---
Nancy was waiting at the office entrance, arms crossed, pouting like a scolded child.
"Sera! You're so late today! I was about to call you!" she said, her voice a mix of concern and playful scolding.
Sera managed a weak smile. She couldn't speak - not with the storm building inside her.
Together they walked into the building, Nancy chatting about something Sera couldn't hear. Every step felt heavier. Every breath harder to draw.
And then…
Sera's world shattered.
Through the glass of William's office, she saw the unthinkable.
Her mother.
Serena.
Naked.
Her silver hair cascaded in wild waves down her back, tangling between William's fingers as he gripped it, pulling her head back to bare her throat to him. His mouth was relentless there - lips hot and searching, tongue tracing the delicate line of her pulse, teeth grazing just enough to make her shudder. He devoured her like a starving man, every kiss deeper, every taste more possessive.
His hands moved over her, firm and claiming, palms sliding up the curve of her back, fingers splaying over the softness of her skin. He cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing over sensitive peaks, drawing out soft gasps that filled the room like music. His grip tightened, molding her to him, pressing her slender form hard against the strength of his body.
His mouth left her throat only to trail lower, lips and tongue mapping a path across her collarbone, down to the swell of her breasts. He claimed them with his mouth, tasting, sucking, biting just enough to leave a mark - a reminder of his ownership. His tongue circled a hardened nipple, slow at first, then faster, flicking in a rhythm that made her breath hitch, her body arch closer, desperate for more.
One hand slid lower, over the curve of her hip, fingers stroking the dip of her waist, tracing along the sensitive skin of her stomach. His touch was both gentle and demanding, coaxing her open, guiding her to give him everything. His fingers slipped between her thighs, finding the heat there, teasing her with slow, deliberate strokes that made her legs tremble.
She melted under him, every moan, every gasp, every shiver a surrender. His name escaped her lips in a breathless plea, and he answered with a growl of satisfaction, his mouth returning to hers, kissing her with a hunger that threatened to consume them both.
His body moved against hers, hard and unyielding, his hands never still, his mouth never sated. Every inch of her was his to explore, to taste, to possess - and he took his time, drawing out every reaction, every trembling sigh, until she was nothing but heat and need beneath him.
And still, he wanted more.
William's mouth moved lower with agonizing slowness, his breath hot against her flushed skin. His lips brushed over the swell of her chest, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, his tongue flicking out to taste the salt of her desire. Every inch he claimed drew a fresh gasp from her lips, her body arching closer, needing more, craving the delicious torment he gave.
His hands, large and sure, slid over her sides, fingertips tracing the sensitive ridges of her ribs before rising to cup her breasts. He squeezed gently at first, feeling their weight in his palms, thumbs brushing over the hardened peaks with maddeningly light strokes. Then his grip tightened, firm and possessive, his thumbs circling, teasing, coaxing moans from deep within her chest.
His mouth closed around one aching nipple, his tongue swirling, sucking, biting just enough to make her cry out - a sound that sent a dark thrill through him. He lavished attention on her, his mouth moving from one breast to the other, leaving both slick and marked by his hunger.
One hand slid lower, fingers grazing over the flat of her stomach, making the muscles there flutter beneath his touch. He moved with purpose, fingers parting her thighs, spreading her open to him, claiming what was his.
His hand found her heat, his fingers stroking through her slick folds, slow and deliberate, each movement drawing a fresh shudder from her body. He explored her with a dark patience, mapping every reaction, every breathless plea. His thumb found the sensitive bud at her core, circling it, pressing just enough to make her hips jerk, to make her moan - a deep, raw sound that filled the room like music made of sin.
His fingers slipped inside her, slow at first, savoring the way she clenched around him, the way her body responded to his touch. He worked her skillfully, curling his fingers, stroking that hidden spot that made her whimper and beg without words.
Her hands clutched at him, nails raking over his back, her body trembling beneath the relentless assault of his mouth and hands. She was lost to him, consumed by the pleasure he gave, her moans growing louder, filling the room with the sound of her surrender.
And all the while, William's eyes burned with triumph, his mouth and hands driving her higher, pushing her to the edge, owning her completely.
Sera froze, unable to move, unable to breathe.
William lifted his head, his dark eyes finding hers.
And that smile.
That slow, wicked smile that promised he could take everything from her.
Sera's vision blurred, her body swaying.
Nancy's voice was a distant echo.
And then darkness claimed her, and she fell, the world slipping away.