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Chapter 86 - ASHBORNE'S BLOOD

Roman stood in the center of Serene's empty closet, his fingers ghosting over untouched fabric, tags still clinging to dresses he had ordered months ago—each one chosen by him, for her.

None were missing.

Not even the red one he had told her to wear the next time she begged him for forgiveness.

She hadn't even tried to take anything from here.

She was really gone.

A cold, slow-brewing storm swirled beneath his calm exterior. The kind of silence only born in monsters who had learned patience too early. Who had mastered how to smile while bleeding inside.

She thought she'd run.

They all did.

His wife. His parents. The maid. That cousin she clung to like a lifeline.

Did they think he didn't notice?

He was an Ashborne.

He knew when the temperature in the room shifted even slightly. He could taste fear like copper in the air. And Serene—his Serene—had been walking around like a woman on the edge. Hope had started to shine in her eyes again. Not the kind he'd put there. A different kind. Dangerous. Delusional.

He had known she was slipping.

So he waited.

When his parents called and casually requested to take Lelo for a few days, said something about traveling soon and wanting to bond—he had smiled. Nodded. Agreed, even. But only because he wanted to see how far they were willing to go to defy him.

He'd built that mansion as a cage gilded in glass and luxury. A place she could drown in silk and call it love.

And now, she had vanished. Not a trace. Not a note. Not even the scent of her perfume lingered.

Only silence.

Roman moved back to their room, picked up her favorite hairbrush, the one she never used anymore but refused to throw out. His grip tightened around it until it cracked in his palm.

She'd left wearing clothes that weren't even hers. Bought by another woman. Not a single thing Serene took belonged to her—or him.

She had walked away from the Ashborne name like it was dirt under her feet.

He tilted his head, staring into the mirror. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

"No," he murmured. "Not walked. Dragged. She was helped."

His eyes darkened as the list of names grew in his mind.

He had been merciful before. Because he thought she could learn.

But now?

Now they had stolen something from him. His wife. His order. His control.

That wouldn't go unpunished.

Roman slid open the drawer on the far end of the room—his private drawer, the one only he touched—and pulled out the file he had built for this day. Tucked behind it were numbers. Accounts. Passports. Phone trackers.

He hadn't just married Serene.

He owned her story.

And she had forgotten that.

But she'd remember soon enough.

Because no matter how far she ran, no matter how clean the break seemed… she would never escape the weight of the Ashborne name.

And she would never survive what happened to people who tried.

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He didn't crave her. He needed her. In his space. In his reach. In his bed. Roman didn't love Serene like a man—he consumed her like a religion. A possession. A madness with no cure. And if the world thought it could hide her from him, it hadn't met an Ashborne with nothing left to lose. His obsession wasn't a secret. It was a promise. One day soon, she would look up… and he'd be there. Smiling. Waiting. Taking her back.

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𝔼ℕ𝔻 𝕆𝔽 𝕍𝕆𝕃𝕌𝕄𝔼 1

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