In the elite circles of Manhattan, Silas Sterling was a king, and he had two "princesses" by his side. One was a spoiled brat who pouted and called him "Uncle Silas." The other was a siren who drove him to madness in the sheets. I was the latter. The former was Tiffany Moore, a girl who hated me to the bone. She was reckless, cruel, and pampered beyond reason. The day she pushed me into the freezing Atlantic from a luxury yacht, she laughed so hard she could barely stand. "You're just a cheap little bird, Sera," she sneered. "Did you really think you could compete with me? Now, go feed the sharks." Let her throw me in. I was already carrying Silas’s child, and I was just looking for the perfect way to turn his protective streak into a weapon of mass destruction. 1 Silas Sterling ruled both the boardroom and the back alleys of New York. The tabloids called him ruthless, a man with ice in his veins who had no room for women. Two years ago, I appeared by his side, sporting the face of an innocent "English Rose"—pure, soft, and fragile. Only after getting close did I realize that this "ascetic" mogul was anything but. On countless blurry nights, Silas would strip away his mask of cold indifference. He would tear off my silk slips and drag us both into a feverish abyss. The high-thread-count sheets would be soaked in sweat, smelling of his heavy, masculine cologne. It was Friday the 13th, a night of bad omens. Silas returned to the penthouse reeking of expensive bourbon. The city lights flickered like dying embers outside. He shed his bespoke suit jacket and gestured for me. I walked over obediently and sat on his powerful, muscular lap. In the dim light, Silas’s emotions were thick and suffocating. I cupped his sharp jawline, raining kisses on his eyes, his nose, and finally, his sensitive throat. He let out a low, tired chuckle. "Only with you, Sera... do I find a moment of peace." I knew that. Silas had climbed to the top over the bodies of his own rivals. Family betrayals, boardroom coups—he had seen it all. He was pathologically paranoid. Every woman who approached him, whether an A-list actress or a billionaire heiress, was viewed as a pawn with an agenda. Except for me. Well, and one other girl: Tiffany Moore. Silas had doted on her for far longer. At 3:00 AM, she was the only one who dared to call his private line. He put it on speaker. A muffled sobbing came through: "Uncle Silas... it’s the anniversary of my dad’s death. I had that nightmare again." "Can you come over? I'm so scared." 2 I leaned against Silas like I had no bones, my arms wrapped tightly around his neck. "It's a bad night to be out so late," I whispered. "Can't you wait until morning?" Silas looked at me with a gaze that was cold and unreadable. I sighed and obediently slid off him. My face was a mask of disappointment and worry. Seeing me turn away, he brushed the hair from my neck and kissed my earlobe firmly. "Tiffany is just a kid, Sera. Don't be petty." Right. In the eyes of men like him, the girls they hold in their palms are always "kids." Even if she was a year older than me. I kicked him playfully under the covers. "If she’s a kid, what does that make me?" Silas pulled me back into his arms, kissing my lips until I was breathless. "You're a little succubus. You’re the one I can't stay away from." I blushed, burying my face in the pillows, my voice muffled and longing: "Tell Arthur to drive you. If you get a DUI, the papers will have a field day." "Mhm." As he closed the door, his gaze held a softness he didn't even realize was there. 3 This wasn't the first time Tiffany had snatched him away. She was "drunk." She had "fought with friends." She was "being harassed at a club." She always had an excuse to bring Silas running. The paparazzi, used to the scandals of the wealthy, were stunned by how much he indulged her. Once, on a flight to Aspen, Tiffany complained of a stomach ache. Silas ordered the private jet to turn around immediately. He lost a nine-figure deal that day, but he didn't care. He stayed by her side. Rumors flew that Silas was simply waiting for her to grow up. But years passed, and they never became "official." Meanwhile, every woman who tried to get close to Silas was either blacklisted, disappeared, or had her reputation ruined in the most public way. Tiffany proved, time and again, that her position was untouchable. She was the one in his heart. Until I showed up. Silas protected me fiercely, keeping me out of the spotlight. We met at NYU. I was a finance major—beautiful, sharp, but seemingly untouched by the world. I was a hard worker, a girl from a rough background who had clawed her way into an Ivy League circle. He had me investigated. He found a father with a history of violence and a mother who died young. My background was as clean as white paper. I was the perfect project: innocent and aspirational. I’ll never forget the day Tiffany found out about me. She trashed my apartment and slapped me across the face until I bled. Silas screamed at her for the first time, shielding me behind his back. Tiffany wailed, "Uncle Silas, don't you love me anymore?" His heart softened instantly, and he let her sob into his chest. "You’ll always be my first priority," he promised. But men have weaknesses. Lust is a powerful thing. To take the top spot in Silas’s heart, I didn't just work on being his "muse." I spent my nights studying how to be his greatest addiction. Hard work pays off. When he left me now, he was no longer so decisive. 4 It was a high-society charity gala hosted by the Hunt family. Tiffany, as usual, arrived draped in Cartier and haute couture. When she saw me, her smile vanished. "Seraphina Vance. How did a stray like you get an invite?" Tiffany looked down on me. To her, I was just Silas's high-end "kept woman." I had been with him for two years, and not even my college roommates knew. I was his secret, a ghost in his life. I didn't belong at a party like this. But Silas wasn't hiding me because he was ashamed; he was hiding me because I was his Achilles' heel. Normally, I met him at his private penthouses, driven by his personal security. But after a stalker nearly broke into my place, he moved me into his most secure estate. Facing Tiffany's sneer, I remained poised. "I graduated top of my class, Tiffany. I have friends in high places. It shouldn't be a surprise to see me here." Tiffany eyed my floor-length, form-fitting gown. Her eyes turned venomous. "You’re nothing. One phone call last night and Silas came to me. He gave me a pink diamond necklace from the Sotheby's auction. It’s worth six million." "What did he give you? That dress looks like a rental." She was right. Silas never took me shopping. I didn't ask for luxury gifts. But I didn't need to. In the quiet of the night, he taught me the secrets of the market, hand-holding me through investment strategies. Isn't that more interesting than a piece of jewelry? When she saw no jealousy in my eyes, she hissed: "Bitch. He’ll get bored of you soon. When he's done, you won't be able to find a job in this city." I touched my neck, smiling. "Last night... he was so obsessed he wouldn't let me leave the room until dawn. I don't think he's getting bored quite yet." I leaned in closer. "It’s pathetic, Tiffany. You love him, but you’re too afraid to even try to get into his bed." 5 Tiffany lost it. She smashed her wine glass against the floor near my feet. A shard of glass sliced into my calf. Blood began to seep out. Grayson Hunt noticed the commotion and rushed over. "Miss Moore, I'm hosting this event. Why are you attacking my guest?" In New York, Tiffany was used to being Silas's untouchable ward. "The bitch started it," she snapped. Grayson was about to argue, but I grabbed his arm. "It's fine. I must have been a poor host. She’s the guest here; I should apologize." Tiffany looked triumphant. "Kneel down and wipe that wine off my shoes." Grayson was about to protest when a familiar, deep voice came from behind. "Tiffany. That’s enough." "Uncle Silas! She was bullying me!" Tiffany flew into Silas’s arms like a wounded bird. I took a step back, feigning a stumble. My heel caught, and my silhouette was perfectly framed in the light. Grayson caught me by the waist to steady me. "Did you twist your ankle?" Silas’s eyes went cold, his gaze fixed on Grayson’s hand on my waist. I tried to push Grayson away, but he held me firm. "You injured your foot playing tennis last week, Sera. Don't make it worse." I looked back at Silas. The rage in his eyes was like a physical heat. 6 I was dozing off in my apartment when Silas arrived, unannounced. I limped to the door. He pinned me against the sofa, biting my lip hard. "Seraphina... how dare you let another man touch you?" His kiss was a punishment, meant to consume me. Eventually, I went soft in his arms, whispering: "Grayson doesn't even like women, Silas. He’s like a brother to me." The words acted like a sedative. Silas paused. "I don't care! No one touches what's mine." He was so possessive. I bit my lip. "If he didn't help me, was I supposed to kneel and lick the floor? I’m not a dog." "Of course you aren't. Tiffany was out of line. I’ve dealt with her." He added, "She’s just a girl. She’s immature. Just stay away from her for a while." Tiffany really was his weakness. I toyed with his tie, my fingers tracing the silk. "I know. I'm not trying to take anything from her." "It's her birthday on Saturday. I'll go and apologize to her." Silas looked satisfied. "I bought her a yacht for her birthday. If you like, I'll buy you one too." I didn't want what everyone else had. I wanted something better. Looking into Silas's dark, wanting eyes, I kissed him sweetly. "That’s so expensive. I should bring her a very special gift, shouldn't I?" A gift she would never see coming. 7 Tiffany really was number one. Silas was a man whose schedule was booked months in advance, but he cleared an entire day for her birthday yacht party. The party was wild. Tiffany was surrounded by her "mean girl" squad and a group of male models they had hired for the day. When she saw me, her face fell. Who wants their enemy at their birthday party? I stayed quiet, handing her a beautifully wrapped gift with a smile. Tiffany scoffed. "Cheap." Silas rubbed her head. "The jewelry and the Ferrari weren't enough? Be nice to Sera." Tiffany grew even more irritated. She went over to her friends, whispering about how I was just a "gold-digger." Silas was busy on a conference call. Tiffany took off her million-dollar watch and threw it into the ocean. "Whoever dives in and finds it gets to keep it!" The male models scrambled into the water. Tiffany didn't care about the watch; she only wanted to make Silas jealous. I sighed, leaning in close to her so only she could hear. "Don't be mad at Silas. He's always busy. He only really has time for me at night." I knew exactly what would push her over the edge. She glared at me, her face contorted. "You're just a whore who's good in bed." I smiled gently, my hand resting on my stomach. "Careful, Tiffany. One day, my child might have to call you 'sister'." She looked at me in disbelief, screaming: "You bitch! Silas would never have a kid with you!" "Why not? I'm smart, I'm educated, and he's obsessed with me." "You aren't old money. He’d never marry you." "You don't know Silas very well. He never goes on the dates his family sets up." I lowered my voice. "Or are you just waiting for him to marry you? But he only sees you as a niece. You feel it too, don't you?" That was the breaking point. Tiffany lost her mind and shoved me into the ocean. "No one save her!" she screamed. "Let's see how long she lasts!" The water was freezing. I had told Silas a lie once—that my father had tried to drown me when I was a kid and that I was terrified of deep water. I had to make my struggle look desperate. How else would I erase Tiffany from his heart? 8 I woke up in a hospital bed. My face was pale, my body aching. Silas was there, his expression heavy. "You're pregnant? Why didn't you tell me?" I forced a smile that looked more like a sob. "Mr. Sterling... I knew you wouldn't want it. I was going to find a time to end it. I didn't expect..." Losing the baby didn't seem to make Silas sad. He was an illegitimate son himself. He had a traumatic childhood. He had always sworn he wouldn't have children before marriage. But his protection of the "murderer" was far too obvious. "Tiffany said... you tripped and fell." My eyes burned with tears. "Is that what she said?" "I want to hear your version." I didn't need to say anything. To keep Tiffany safe, Silas had installed hidden cameras all over the yacht. He hadn't told her because she hated being watched. I had chosen the perfect spot to provoke her. I leaned back against the pillows, my eyes red. "It was my fault. I slipped. It's a miracle I was saved." Silas leaned over, his eyes searching mine. He wanted to see through me. But in an instant, my tears fell uncontrollably. "I'm sorry. I lost control." Silas wasn't a patient man. He hated crying women. Except for Tiffany. But this time, he pulled me into his arms. "It’s okay. You’re young. We can have children later." I sniffled. "I wasn't ready to be a mother anyway. You know my family was terrible. I didn't want to bring a baby into this world to suffer." 9 Silas froze. He would never marry me. The "father" of my future children would have to be someone else. He gripped my chin roughly. "Seraphina... are you planning on having kids with someone else?" I didn't fight him. I took his hand and looked at him sincerely. "Silas, I’m not a canary looking for a gilded cage. Without your help, the aunt who raised me would have died. I owe you my life." "I won't leave you. Unless..." He cut me off with a harsh, punishing kiss. He wiped the tears from my eyes, his voice a warning: "You aren't leaving without my permission." I suppressed my grief and hugged him back. I'm sorry, baby, I thought. This world was too dirty for you anyway. 10 As compensation, Silas gave me a job at his firm. In the venture capital department—his favorite division. Silas had a legendary eye for investments. It was how he had ousted his half-brothers and taken control of the family empire. Tiffany was there too. She got paid, but she did no work. Silas just wanted to give her a title. Just like he had donated a building to her college to get her a degree she didn't earn. In the office, Tiffany tried to make my life hell. Silas kept his personal and professional lives separate. He wasn't going to stand up for a "mistress" in front of his staff. I didn't care. I used my own money to buy coffee and snacks for the team, making friends with everyone. When the "mean girl" tried to make me her personal assistant, my colleagues stood up for me. I played my own game. I used my "recovery" as an excuse to stop going to Silas's estate. He mocked me: "The little bird's wings are getting strong." I laughed it off and went back to work, pulling all-nighters to create brilliant investment proposals using the knowledge he had taught me. Months later, the head of the department praised me in front of Silas. "Seraphina is brilliant. She has a rare gift for this." The boardroom erupted in applause. Silas had a faint smile on his lips. He looked at me through his gold-rimmed glasses—the look of a man who was no longer just attracted to a body, but to a mind. 11 When I finally returned to his estate, Silas taught me more about the dark side of business. I sat on his lap, rewarding him with kisses. He was in a great mood, his hands wandering over my waist. I stopped him, looking pained. "Promise me... we’ll be careful. I can't have another baby." "You really don't want my child?" "No. I told you... my father killed my mother. I barely survived." "I don't want my history to repeat." Silas had done a background check, but he only knew the basics. He didn't know that in my remote, impoverished hometown, domestic violence wasn't a crime—it was a way of life. My mother was kind, but she couldn't give my father the son he wanted. Every time he was frustrated, he beat her. The winter my uncle had a son, my father came home fuming. He attacked my mother without warning. I tried to protect her, but he threw me aside by my hair. He kicked her until she was vomiting blood. I tried to take her to a doctor in the next town, but my father found us. He hit me with a shovel, shattering my leg. "You aren't taking her anywhere," he hissed. My mother died of internal bleeding. My leg was broken. My father refused to pay for treatment. He wanted me to drop out of school to serve him. A volunteer teacher in the village paid for my surgery. She wasn't much older than me, but she told me: "The world is big. If you work hard, you can fly away." From that day on, I studied like a demon. I never missed a chance to escape. Silas stared into my eyes. "What happened to your father?" "After I left, he kept hounding me for money. He threatened my aunt. I had to give in." "And then?" "He became an alcoholic. He spent all the money on booze and froze to death one winter." I looked sad, as if I were grieving. "I handled the funeral. He was still my father." Silas kissed my forehead. "You're a good person, Sera. That’s why you’re so patient with Tiffany." I almost laughed. Good? I was the one who made sure he had an endless supply of cheap, high-proof alcohol. He killed my mother and got away with it. I just let the universe handle the rest.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "417806", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel