Mated to My Fiancé’s Alpha King Brother - Chapter 240
Chapter 240: Chapter 240
Seraphina’s POV
Six months.
It had been six months since I moved out.
Six months of living in this tiny apartment with its beige walls and windows that didn’t quite close all the way.
Six months of pretending I was fine.
I woke up to my alarm like I did every morning. Reached over to silence it before the sound could fully register. The bed felt too big. Too empty. Even though I’d been sleeping alone for half a year now.
The coffee maker was already programmed. I stumbled to the kitchen. Poured myself a cup. Stared out the window at nothing.
This was my life now.
Training facility. Home. Training facility. Home.
With the kids sprinkled in between. The only good parts. The only moments that felt real.
I drank my coffee black. Couldn’t be bothered with cream and sugar anymore. Everything tasted the same anyway.
My phone buzzed. Adrian.
**Adrian: Can you pick us up after school today? Dad has a meeting.**
Of course he did.
**Me: Sure, buddy. I’ll be there at 3.**
**Adrian: Thanks Mom.**
I set down the phone. Finished my coffee. Got dressed in my usual training clothes. Black leggings. Sports bra. Loose tank top.
Pulled my hair back. Didn’t bother with makeup. Nobody at the facility cared what I looked like.
The drive to work was automatic. Turn here. Stop there. Park in the same spot I always parked.
Jessica waved when I walked in. “Morning, boss!”
“Morning.”
“You look tired. Late night?”
“Something like that.”
I wasn’t tired. I was just… existing. Going through the motions. Waiting for something to change without knowing what that something was.
The female warriors were already warming up when I entered the main hall. Stretching. Running drills. The sounds of fists hitting bags echoed off the walls.
This was my domain now. The one place where I felt useful. Where I could lose myself in the rhythm of training and fighting and pushing these women to be better.
“Alright!” I clapped my hands. “Let’s start with combinations. Jessica, you’re with Riley. Maya, you’re with Sophie. I want to see clean technique. No sloppy hits.”
They paired off immediately. Started moving. Punching. Blocking.
I walked among them. Correcting form. Pointing out mistakes. Pushing harder when they got lazy.
“Sophie, your guard is dropping! Keep it up!”
“Maya, you’re telegraphing again! I can see that punch coming from a mile away!”
This I could do. This made sense. Clear rules. Clear goals. No complicated emotions or broken marriages or husbands who maybe-possibly-probably cheated.
The morning flew by. Drill after drill. Technique after technique.
By lunch, everyone was exhausted. Sweaty. Breathing hard.
“Good work today,” I told them. “Take an hour. Then we’ll do ground work.”
They dispersed. Heading to the cafeteria or outside for fresh air.
I stayed in the training hall. Went to the heavy bag in the corner. Started hitting it.
Left hook. Right cross. Left hook. Right cross.
The rhythm was soothing. Mindless. Just movement and impact and the burn in my muscles.
I didn’t hear him enter.
“You’re pulling your punches.”
Damien’s voice made me freeze mid-swing.
I turned slowly.
He stood in the doorway. Arms crossed. Watching me with those blue eyes that used to make my heart race.
Now they just made me tired.
“What are you doing here?” My voice came out flat.
“Lucas mentioned you’ve been training alone during lunch. Thought I’d check on you.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re pulling your punches,” he repeated. Stepped closer. “Your form is good but you’re not committing. Like you’re afraid to actually hit something.”
I turned back to the bag. “I know how to hit things, Damien.”
“I know you do. I’ve seen you fight. But right now? You’re just going through the motions.”
“So?”
“So…” He moved beside me. Too close. “That’s how people get hurt. When they stop caring. Stop focusing.”
“Maybe I don’t care anymore.”
The words hung between us. Heavy. True.
He was quiet for a long moment. Then: “The kids miss you.”
“I see them three times a week.”
“They want you home.”
“I am home.” I hit the bag harder. “This is my home now.”
“I heard Emma left.” I changed the subject. “That she’s gone. Disappeared.”
He nodded stiffly. “She requested extended leave.
“Did you pay her off?” I asked. “Like you wanted to?”
“No.” He ran a hand through his hair. “She left before I could do anything. Just vanished. Nobody knows where she went.”
“Convenient.”
“Sera, I swear I had nothing to do with it. She just… left.”
I studied his face. Looking for the lie. For any sign he was still hiding something.
All I saw was exhaustion. And something that looked like genuine confusion.
“Okay,” I said finally.
“Okay?”
“Okay. I believe you. About that part at least.”
Relief washed over his features. “Thank you.”
We stood there in awkward silence. The weight of six months pressing down on us.
“The kids want us to have dinner together,” he said. “This Friday. All four of us.”
“Damien—”
“Please.” He stepped closer. “Not for me. For them. They’re confused. They don’t understand why their parents can’t be in the same room without it being weird.”
“Because it is weird.”
“I know. But we can pretend. For a few hours. Can’t we?”
I wanted to say no. Wanted to tell him that pretending was killing me. That every time I saw him, every time we played happy family, it felt like swallowing glass.
But the kids. God, the kids.
Adrian’s careful questions. Lily’s worried face. Both of them trying so hard to be good. To not cause problems. To keep both their parents happy.
“Fine,” I heard myself say. “Friday. Dinner. But that’s it. We eat. We talk about normal things. Then I leave.”
“Deal.”
He left before I could change my mind.
I went back to the bag. Started hitting it again.
Left hook. Right cross. Left hook. Right cross.
This time I didn’t pull my punches.
—
Friday came too fast.
I stood outside the house—his house, not mine anymore—for five minutes before I could make myself go in.
The door was unlocked. Of course it was.
“Mama!” Lily’s voice rang out immediately. She came running. Crashed into my legs. “You’re here!”
“Hi, baby girl.” I picked her up. Held her tight. “Did you miss me?”
“So much!” She wrapped her arms around my neck. “Daddy made your favorite. The pasta with the white sauce.”
My throat tightened. “That’s nice.”
Adrian appeared in the hallway. More cautious. Always more cautious.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hey, buddy.” I set Lily down. Pulled Adrian into a hug. He let me. Briefly. “How was school?”
“Good. Got an A on my science test.”
“That’s great! I’m proud of you.”
Damien emerged from the kitchen. Wearing an apron. Hair slightly messy. Looking domestic and comfortable and so familiar it hurt.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” he said. “Sera, can I get you something to drink?”
“Water’s fine.”
We moved to the dining room. The table was set. Four places. Like a real family.
I sat in my old spot. Muscle memory. My body remembering before my brain could object.
The kids chattered through dinner. Talking about school and friends and the upcoming science fair.
Normal kid stuff. Safe topics.
Damien and I contributed when necessary. Asked questions. Made appropriate comments.
But mostly we just watched them. These two beautiful children who were trying so hard to keep their broken family together.
“Can we watch a movie after dinner?” Lily asked. “All of us?”
I opened my mouth to say no.
“Sure, baby girl,” Damien said before I could. His eyes met mine. Pleading.
“Okay,” I agreed. “One movie.”
Lily squealed. Adrian smiled. Small victories.
The movie was some animated thing. Bright colors. Happy songs. The kind of simple story where everything worked out in the end.
Lily fell asleep halfway through. Curled up between me and Damien on the couch.
Adrian made it to the end. Barely.
“Bedtime,” Damien said quietly. “Come on, guys.”
“I should go,” I started to stand.
“Stay.” His hand caught mine. Just for a second. “Please. Help me put them to bed?”
I looked at our joined hands. At his face. At the hope written there.
“Okay.”
We carried them upstairs together. Lily to her room. Adrian to his.
I tucked Lily in. Smoothed her hair. Kissed her forehead.
“Love you, Mama,” she mumbled. Already half-asleep.
“Love you too, baby.”
Adrian was already in bed when I checked on him. Reading as usual.
“Night, Mom.”
“Night, buddy.” I kissed the top of his head. “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
I closed his door softly. Turned around.
Damien stood in the hallway. Watching me.
“Thank you,” he said. “For tonight. For trying.”
“It was for them. Not for you.”
“I know.” He stepped closer. “But still. Thank you.”
We stood there. Too close. Too familiar. The space between us charged with everything we weren’t saying.
“I should go,” I said.
—
The next morning, I went to the training facility early.
Needed to work off the frustration. The confusion. The mess of emotions I couldn’t sort through.
But when I walked into the main hall, something was different.
All the female trainees were clustered together near the equipment room. Talking. Laughing. Looking excited about something.
I watched them for a moment. Their energy was infectious. Happy. Light.
Whatever they were discussing was clearly good news. The kind that made people smile.
My curiosity got the better of me.
I walked over. Smiled at the group.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “What did I miss?”