Chapter Three
SERENITY VEYLOR-KORVEN
Eleven months later.
After eleven months of marriage, each evening in this estate still reminded me that I was alone in this marriage. Konflict kept his distance, sticking to his promise not to touch me and I stopped wishing he’d ever change his mind.
At first, I tried talking to him when we crossed paths in the hall, but all I got were cold looks that made it clear I didn’t belong. The man who once saved me as a kid couldn’t even look at me without wishing he could end me.
So I built a life without him.
The Korven estate became a place I managed instead of shared. I kept my family’s business afloat and showed the city a Veylor still standing, carrying the weight of two houses while Konflict barely even acknowledged we were married.
The only time I ever saw him was at Big Six galas, where every head of house and spouse had to show up. Every few months, I got an invitation and the same cold message:Be ready.
“Valery,” I called to my assistant, lifting my dress carefully, “how did things go at the casino last night?”
Standing by the wardrobe, she had her tablet in her hands, her eyes already scanning numbers. Her long legs were accentuated by a fitted suit that hugged her figure. The Fulani braids she’d gotten a few days ago suited her deep coffee-brown skin beautifully. Valery had been part of the Veylor family forever. Her parents joined the household staff a few years before I was born, so she’d always been there, right by my side. I was grateful this brutal war with the Korven’s hadn’t taken her from me, too. I wouldn’t have survived it.
“We had an issue with a client acting suspicious. The new security lead intervened.”
I paused, the dress half-zipped in my hands. “New security lead?”
“Yes. Konflict replaced Viking and appointed one of his own men.”
The words slipped under my skin before I could shield myself from them.
I remembered Viking’s voice from last week—mocking, loud in the VIP corridor as he told me I had no authority, that without my father my word meant nothing. I remembered the staff watching him speak to me like that, waiting to see whether I would bow or find enough spine to stand. I calmly stripped him of his position and walked out without raising my voice once. I knew he would defy me and linger, and I had already planned to look for a replacement strong enough to handle him. What I had not planned was for Konflict to hear about any of it. I certainly had not imagined he would care enough to act.
“Who told him?” I asked softly.
“No one,” Valery replied. “But the Korven’s hear everything before it hits air and given Konflict’s reputation… it wouldn’t surprise me if Viking has already disappeared. Mr. Korven takes his wife’s protection seriously.”
I let out a quiet, humorless breath and turned back to the mirror.
“He protects his name,” I corrected, smoothing the silk over my hip, “not me. He did it because insulting the wife of the head of a Big Six family is the same as insulting the house itself. He was defending his territory, not his marriage.” I paused, letting my words settle. “Anyway,” I murmured, steadying my breath, “I need to finish getting ready. The council expects perfection tonight, and I won’t give them a single crack to whisper about.”
The dress settled against my body, stitched for every curve I owned. Midnight silk clung to my hips, the neckline dipping just enough to whisper confidence without begging for attention. My skin, deep and warm under the light, caught the shimmer of the fabric as if it had been made to glow against golden-brown tones like mine. I looked good. So good that for just a breath, I let myself imagine walking into this night as a woman desired by her husband, not merely tolerated by his name.
But I left the estate alone.
Konflict had never once come to collect me for an event, never offered his arm, or acknowledged that appearances mattered for a married couple in the Big Six. So I climbed into the car with the same quiet resolve I had carried for months and watched the city blur outside the window while I rehearsed the smile I would have to wear.
When I walked into the reception hall, every head turned.
The chandeliers spilled soft gold over the crowd, the music drifting somewhere between luxury and boredom. I felt the eyes before I saw the faces. Judge Marquette and Hollister’s wives were already gliding toward me.
“Serenity, you look stunning tonight,” Halley Hollister said, pulling me briefly into a polite embrace before stepping back to study me. “But… where is your husband? We expected you two together.”
I smiled even though the truth pressed its weight behind my ribs.
“He had an unexpected matter to handle,” I replied smoothly. “He’ll be arriving a little later. I came ahead to represent the Korven’s until he joins us.”
She returned my smile—but her eyes flicked toward the entrance, confusion softening into something sharper.
“In that case, why is he arriving with another woman on his arm?” Maureen Marquette murmured.
My breath stilled.
