The workday passed in a blur of corporate strategy and underlying anxiety. Kaelen attended meetings, signed off on projections, and presented a flawless, cold facade to her father and brother. But her mind was elsewhere, tethered to a simple note on her penthouse dining table and the two metrics that defined her new reality.
At 2:55 PM, she was standing by the car once more. This time, there was no Sera, only the driver's neutral expectation. The absence was both a relief and a strange weight. This was a test Sera had set for her. Fetch her later. Sera had been working too on her filming since she's an actress; that's why she couldn't fetch little Iris.
She arrived at St. Ignatius as the final bell rang. Children poured out of the doors in a chaotic, joyful stream. Kaelen stood by the car, feeling conspicuously tall and out of place amidst the chatting parents and nannies.
Then she saw her. Iris emerged, her backpack looking heavier than she was, her face lighting up when she spotted Kaelen. She didn't run, but she walked quickly, a shy smile on her face.
"Auntie Kae," she said, arriving at the car. "You came."
"I said I would," Kaelen replied, the simple statement feeling like a vow. She opened the door for Iris, a gesture that felt both awkward and right.
As Iris climbed in, a voice called out. "Iris! Wait up!"
Two of Iris's classmates, a boy and a girl, ran over. They were the same ones from the toy store. The boy, Leo, skidded to a halt when he saw Kaelen, his eyes going wide. His bravado was completely gone, replaced by pure, unvarnished fear.
"I-Iris," he stammered, not looking at Kaelen. "We're going to the park to play tag. Do you wanna come?"
The little girl, Maya, nodded enthusiastically. "It'll be fun!"
Iris looked from her friends to Kaelen, a clear war between desire and duty on her face. "I… I should probably go home," she said softly, her shoulders slumping.
Kaelen understood the dynamic instantly. Her presence, her name, had changed the game. But the fear in Leo's eyes wasn't what gave her pause this time; it was the disappointment on Iris's. This wasn't about power. It was about a little girl who just wanted to play.
Before she could second-guess herself, Kaelen spoke. "You should go," she said to Iris, her voice softer than she intended.
Iris's head snapped up, eyes wide with surprise. "Really?"
"Really." Kaelen looked over at the small city park across the street, a safe, enclosed space full of laughing children. "It's a nice day. You should play with your friends."
Leo and Maya stared, their fear now mixed with confusion. This was not the terrifying Alpha they expected.
"But…" Iris began, "what about you?"
Kaelen's first instinct was to say she would wait in the car. That was the efficient, distant thing to do. But the hopeful look on Iris's face, the memory of the 25% approval, and a strange, long-forgotten impulse made her say something else entirely.
"I'll come watch," Kaelen said. And then, feeling the words leave her mouth as if someone else were saying them, she added, "I could… use some air."
What happened next was a whirlwind. Permission granted, the three children dashed across the street, their earlier trepidation forgotten in the excitement of the game. Kaelen followed at a more sedate pace, settling on a bench that gave her a clear view of the entire playground.
For a few minutes, she simply watched. Iris, Leo, and Maya began a frantic game of tag, their shrieks and laughter blending with the sounds of the city. Iris was fast, darting between play structures with a grin that stretched from ear to ear. She looked… free.
Then, the game shifted. Leo, designated "it," was having no luck catching the two speedy girls. In a moment of strategic desperation, he ran straight toward Kaelen's bench, pointing at Iris. "Auntie Kae! You're it! Tag her!"
The world seemed to slow down. Three pairs of eyes locked onto her. Iris's were sparkling with daring challenge. Maya's were wide with anticipation. Leo's were pleading.
A system warning, cold and sharp, flashed at the edge of her consciousness:
[Unbecoming Conduct Detected. Threat to Persona Stability]. She was Kaelen Blackwood, heiress to an empire, a feared Alpha. She did not play tag in public parks.
But the persona it wanted to stabilize was the one that had a -88% approval rating with the woman she was supposed to win over. The one that made children flinch.
Ignoring the warning, a reckless, unfamiliar energy surged through her. A slow, predatory smile spread across her face. She rose from the bench with a grace that was entirely unnatural for a game of tag.
"Very well," she said, her voice a low purr that was both playful and terrifying. "Run."
Iris shrieked with delight and took off. What followed was not a game of tag so much as a tactical pursuit. Kaelen didn't run; she stalked. She used the playground equipment like an obstacle course, cutting off angles and herding Iris with an efficiency that was utterly absurd. The other children stopped their own game to watch, mesmerized by the spectacle of the tall, elegant woman in a designer suit expertly navigating the monkey bars to corner her giggling prey.
Finally, with a final, laughing shriek, Iris was cornered against the slide. Kaelen reached out, and with the very tip of her finger, gently tapped Iris on the shoulder.
"Tag," she said, her voice breathless in a way it hadn't been in years. "You're it."
The park erupted in cheers from the small audience of children. Iris beamed up at her, her face flushed with joy and exertion. "That was awesome! You're like a secret agent!"
Iris Vesper. Approximate Approval: 35%
Across the street, a sleek town car pulled to a quiet stop. Sera leaned forward, her brow furrowed. Her filming had run late, and a knot of anxiety had tightened in her stomach the entire drive over. She was late. Iris would be waiting. And Kaelen… who knew what Kaelen would have done.
She scanned the school entrance, expecting to see her daughter standing alone or, worse, sitting in Kaelen's car looking miserable. She saw neither.
Her driver pointed a gloved hand toward the park. "Miss Vesper, look."
Sera's gaze followed his gesture, and her breath caught in her throat.
There, in the middle of the park, was her daughter. Iris was laughing, her face flushed with pure, unadulterated joy. And there, moving with an impossible blend of lethal grace and playful intent, was Kaelen.
Sera watched, utterly transfixed, as Kaelen, in her impeccable suit, vaulted over a low bench with effortless ease to avoid being tagged, a rare, genuine smile lighting up her face. She wasn't just watching; she was playing. The sight was so profoundly bizarre, so completely antithetical to everything she knew about Kaelen Blackwood, that Sera could only stare.
She saw the way Iris looked at Kaelen not with fear or obligation, but with bright, uncomplicated admiration. The knot of anxiety in Sera's stomach unraveled, replaced by a warm, bewildering flood of relief. She had expected a crisis and found… this.
Unconsciously, she leaned back in her seat. "Drive around the block," she said softly to her driver. "Give them five more minutes."
As the car pulled away from the curb, a notification shimmered in Kaelen's mind. It wasn't the golden warmth of Iris's approval, but a cooler, more complex silver, representing a massive and undeniable shift.
Seraphina Vesper. Approximate Approval: -70%
It was still a negative number. The history of pain and manipulation was not so easily forgotten. But the drop from -88% was a chasm of progress. The hatred was now heavily diluted with potent, undeniable confusion, a spark of gratitude, and the indelible image of a villainess playing tag in the afternoon sun.
Kaelen's own comms device buzzed. A message from Mara, her secretary.
Miss Blackwood. A reminder: the Blackwood Corp annual charity gala is in one week. Your attendance, alongside Miss Vesper, is mandatory…
The message was the same, but the woman reading it was different. The sense of calm from the game fortified her against the familiar dread. The game wasn't just still on; she was finally learning how to play. And for the first time, the thought of the gala didn't just fill her with dread, but with a flicker of strategy.