Chapter 44: She’s Seraphina Lancaster!

Chapter 44: She’s Seraphina Lancaster! Author’s POV Now Lucien was driving like a madman, clenching his jaw at the thought of anyone else near her, brother or not. He was losing his mind, thinking about how to keep her by her side and not just protect her. What kind of sick joke was this? He didn’t even know her that well. And yet... her voice, her eyes, her pain, it wouldn’t leave him. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way. He wasn’t supposed to care this much. But here he was. Acting like she already belonged to him. He had become obsessed with her. Possessive at that! And the worst part? He didn’t even want to stop. With all those storming thoughts still clouding his mind, Lucien drove them straight to the Lancaster mansion and stopped the car right in front of the porch. "Thanks," Asher said coldly, not even sparing him a glance. The Thanks wasn’t real gratitude... it was just felt formality. Like he was forcing the word out because manners demanded it. Lucien let out a dry laugh, still not looking at him. "Don’t thank me yet, Asher," he muttered. "Just remember what you promised. If you break your word... you’ll regret stepping out of line." Asher didn’t say anything back. He didn’t care for warnings or threats. Right now, all he cared about was the girl sleeping in his arms. He adjusted her carefully, as if she’d shatter if he moved too fast. Her breath was soft against his chest, and he couldn’t help but look down at her face. She looked so peaceful... as if it wasn’t her who had lost control over herself just a moment ago. As he shifted to get out, a servant ran over and opened the car door. "Step aside," Asher said coldly. The servant froze. He was stunned... not because of his Young Master’s sharp voice... but because of who he was holding. The girl in his arms, who was curled into him like she belonged there. Seraphina Lancaster. The lost heiress of the Lancaster Family, who was long forgotten by everyone, was now being carried by the man who detested her the most. "Young Master, let me help you," the servant said, coming forth even after the warning. Asher ignored him and turned toward the car, where Lucien was still sitting. "Take the car back, I’ll send someone to bring it." Lucien had nothing to say, he just nodded and started the car, before looking on last time at Seraphina and driving away. For some reason, he felt like he would regret leaving Sera there, but he wanted to respect her wishes. If that was what she wanted, he would make that happen. It was as simple as that. Asher watched him leave and heaved a sigh of relief. He then turned to leave when several maids and servants ran toward them. He could feel the eyes of the staff on him. He wanted to shoo them away, but he had no time for that, so he directly entered the house. "Third Young Master, why are you carrying her?" A maid’s voice full of disdain could be heard. His jaw was clenched so tight it hurt, and his eyes burned with rage he hadn’t felt in years. He tightened his hold on Seraphina, as if he loosened even a little, she might vanish again. And this time... he wouldn’t be able to live with it. But each step he took forward, those voices behind him pushed him two steps back. "Let me carry the filth for you..." "She’s only here for us to play..." Asher froze. That was it. He stopped right there the middle of the hallway. The sound of his shoes against the marble fell silent, and so did everything around him. He turned back slowly. His face didn’t hold any expression. The darkness in his eyes was enough to shut anyone up. "Who said that?" His voice was low, rough, and heavy with warning. It wasn’t loud, but it hit like a slap in their face. No one answered. There was no sound, and no one even dared to breathe. "I asked a question," he repeated. This time, his voice was sharper, as if his voice could cut the air with its sharpness. But there was still no reply. One of the maids dropped her eyes while another took a step back as they were already trembling. The man who had spoken earlier dared not look up. Asher gave a cold, mocking smile, but it never reached his eyes. "Get out," he said flatly. "Every single one of you. Leave this house right now." "Y-Young Master—" one of them tried to speak. "I said, get fucking out of my house!" Asher’s voice thundered, shaking the walls of the house as if they were scared as well. The servants didn’t wait this time. They scattered like scared rats running and tripping over themselves, whispering apologies that meant nothing. When the noise died down, silence returned... and Asher finally turned back. He looked down at the girl in his arms. Seraphina was still sleeping. Her face was calm, tucked softly against his chest like she had no idea what had just happened. Good. She didn’t need to hear any of that. "I’m sorry," he whispered slow, only for her to hear. "I should’ve come for you a long time ago." And then he walked. This time, he wouldn’t let anyone bully her. He would deal with every single one of those who had gone against her. She was Seraphina Lancaster. And anyone who dared call her filth again... He’d make sure they’d never speak another word. Even if it was the whole world standing against her... He’d stand against the whole damn world. Without even realizing it, Asher had already devoted himself to his sister. There were no promises, no dramatic vows, just his determination. He didn’t understand what had gotten into him, but it was his truth. Asher couldn’t watch her suffer and was losing control. And strangely... He didn’t even care.