Page 123 of Modern Romance May 2026 Books 5-8
“Of course I care.” Dominic’s rare display of affection unsettles me, makes me restless. “But caring isn’t enough. Not for Seraphina. She deserves love.”
Cassian brings the bottle over and tops off my glass. “So what, you don’t love us?”
I roll my eyes. “We kept each other from starving and saved each other’s lives more than once. We earned the respect we share. It’s different.”
“How?” Dominic pushes. “She worked herself like crazy for you for three years. You said yourself she made you a better advisor. And then she agrees to a fake engagement to help you.”
“I saw the way she looked at you.” The teasing tone is gone from Cassian’s voice, replaced by a seriousness I’m not used to. “And the way you looked at her.
“You know what I admired the most about you for so long? How strong you were. Even on the worst days when we were digging in the trash for food, you never flinched.” Cassian’s frown deepens. “But you’ve taken it too far. You don’t have to do this on your own.”
“My pain is private,” I ground out. “I don’t share. With anyone.”
“You shared with Seraphina,” Dominic says quietly.
“And that was a mistake,” I retort. “She’s already been through hell. I have no right to ask her to stay with me when I’m incapable of being what she needs.”
“Did she ever ask you to change?” Cassian demands. “Did she walk away after Randolph pulled out, or did you push her away?”
I blink. My heart starts pounding in my chest, thundering against my ribs.
“I…” My breath rushes out. “She offered me time. Space. Whatever I needed. But I didn’t want her to get pulled in.”
The emotion I’ve been suppressing is starting to simmer, rise up. I try to keep it down, to maintain some semblance of control.
“She knows you, Aiden.” Dominic approaches, stops behind Cassian. “Just like we do. We’ve always been here for you. And I imagine, if you gave her a chance, Seraphina would be, too.”
“But you didn’t even give her a choice.” Cassian throws up his hands and stalks back to his chair, dropping down into it a frustrated exhale. “And is that because you’re protecting her or protecting yourself?”
The accusation hits me square in the chest. I stare at him, the words penetrating my shield. Every time I pushed Seraphina away, she gave me space. Time to deal with my demons while never wavering from my side. She saw me, all of me, and instead of letting her in, I gave in to fear and pushed her away.
“That’s one of the things I love about Aiden…”
When Seraphina said those words in front of George Randolph in Venice, the way she looked at me, I knew. Deep down I knew she wasn’t just acting for Randolph’s sake. And I knew the feelings she stirred inside me weren’t fleeting. No, they were feelings I’ve been fighting for far too long.
My lips part. “I’m in love with Seraphina.”
Cassian throws up his arms. “Finally.” He points at Dominic. “You owe me fifty bucks.”
I glare at them. “You bet on me being in love?”
“Oh, we both knew you were.” Dominic pulls out his wallet and slowly starts pulling out ten-dollar bills. “Cassian just bet we could get you to say it out loud before dinner.”
I’m in love with Seraphina. I’m in love with the assistant who saw my passion and did everything she could to help my firm grow. I’m in love with the fire dancer who wields flames with confidence. And I’m in love with the woman who once thought she was broken and, instead of locking herself away, rebuilt herself piece by piece. She’s not perfect, but I don’t need her to be. I just need her to be who she’s always been.
I need to talk with Seraphina. Need to tell her how I feel, how sorry I am. She may take one look at me and tell me to go to hell. But I need to take this chance. Need to know I did everything I could to show her I love her and, God willing, win her back.
Chapter Sixteen
Seraphina
Three days later
THETEMPLE OFDENDURis small, with a gateway made of sandstone and the small sanctuary located just behind it. But its size doesn’t make it any less impressive. Papyrus and lotus plants are carved into the base of the temple. The interior of the sanctuary is softly lit, golden light bathing over the ancient stone. The reflecting pool surrounding the temple makes it easy to imagine such a temple sitting just beyond the banks of the Nile.
A stark contrast to the soaring glass wall to my right that faces Central Park. I still can’t believe I’m dancing at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Jessica called me on Tuesday, her excitement so intense it took several times of me encouraging her to slow down before she finally shared that a benefactor had not only booked the entire exhibition wing at the Met, but had also sold an additional two hundred seats for the show.
My heart twists in my chest as I glance at my reflection in the mirror set up in one of the makeshift dressing rooms. I’m wearing the same outfit I wore that night at the Hudson Springs gala: red halter with sparkling sequins, black skirt and a red rose tucked behind one ear. Unlike that night, however, I’m not wearing a wig or a mask. It’s just me, Seraphina Clark.
