"Seraphina, I know you're in there." The voice sounded familiar, but Tristan couldn't place it. "Open up; it's me, Michael."
Seraphina's eyes doubled at the name.
The very mention of the name 'Michael' made her take a deep breath. She could feel a sharp twinge of dread spiraling in her chest.
It was evident she was trying to muster up the courage to face the past she had locked away.
"Let me handle it," she whispered urgently, trying to reach for the door handle.
But Tristan shook his head, feigning a smile, and said, "I got this."
Before she could get to the door, Tristan had walked toward it, gladly opening the door but also hiding behind it.
As the door swung open, a tall, muscular man with sharp features walked in.
Michael had an air of arrogance around him, with piercing blue eyes, a chiseled jawline, and thick, wavy jet-black hair.
