Midnight Collision

Seraphina

The days blurred together in Damon Hale's penthouse. Sunlight streamed through towering windows in the mornings, painting the room in warm golds and soft grays, only to fade into city lights and shadows at night. The world outside felt distant, muffled by the thick glass and luxurious silence of her new reality.

But Sera wasn't really here. Not fully. Her body ached with every breath, her ribs wrapped tightly in Liam's careful bandages. Her mind felt… fractured. She stayed mostly curled up on the large leather couch, wrapped in one of the impossibly soft blankets that Liam had thrown over her shoulders during his last visit.

Damon kept his distance. She could feel him—his presence looming like a quiet storm in the corners of her mind—but he never pushed, never crossed a line. He was careful around her, moving with a predatory grace that somehow didn't scare her. Not really.

Liam, on the other hand, was a constant presence.

Liam

"Rise and shine, genius girl!" Liam announced, sweeping into the penthouse one morning with a paper bag and two coffees in hand. His brown leather jacket was slung casually over his shoulder, and his signature grin was firmly in place.

Sera looked up from her spot on the couch, blinking at him from beneath the messy curtain of her auburn hair. Her arms were still wrapped around her knees, but there was a faint flicker of warmth in her gaze.

"I brought bagels," Liam said, holding up the bag like it was a sacred treasure. "The good kind. Not the sad, dry ones."

She didn't respond, but her lips twitched slightly—almost like she wanted to smile but didn't remember how.

"Okay, that's progress," Liam said, dropping into an armchair across from her and unpacking the bagels. "You know, Damon has this whole intimidating, broody thing going on, but me? I'm charming. Delightful, even. Women usually laugh at my jokes."

Sera's lips pressed together, her brows raising slightly as if to say, Really?

"Okay, okay. Maybe not all women," Liam admitted with mock defeat, holding up his hands. "But at least my mom thinks I'm funny."

She huffed out a breath through her nose—a sound that could almost, almost, be considered a laugh.

"There we go!" Liam grinned triumphantly. "Look at us, breaking barriers. Next thing you know, we'll be doing karaoke in the living room."

Sera shook her head lightly, but her eyes softened.

For the first time in days, the silence between her and someone else didn't feel suffocating.

Damon

Damon watched from the hallway, arms crossed over his chest, as Liam worked his magic. The faintest trace of a smile ghosted across Sera's face before she ducked her head again.

It wasn't jealousy that gnawed at him—not really. It was something else. Something raw and jagged that he couldn't quite name.

He wanted to talk to her. To tell her that she was safe now. That whoever had hurt her would regret it in ways he couldn't begin to describe. But every time he stepped into the room, she seemed to shrink into herself.

His presence was heavy, dark—he knew that. And she had already been surrounded by enough darkness to last a lifetime.

But Damon Hale wasn't the kind of man who gave up easily.

That night, Damon walked into his private office, phone pressed to his ear.

"Get me the best laptop money can buy. I don't care about the cost. Top specs, everything maxed out. I want it delivered by tomorrow morning."

The voice on the other end hesitated. "Understood, Mr. Hale."

He hung up, his fingers drumming lightly on the glass desk.

If she couldn't speak to him—if she couldn't look at him without flinching—then he'd find another way to reach her.

The following afternoon, Sera was sitting cross-legged on the couch, wrapped in her blanket and staring absently at the skyline. The weight in her chest felt a little less suffocating today, but the ache in her ribs was a sharp reminder of how fragile her body still was.

"Seraphina."

She flinched slightly at the sound of Damon's voice. He stood at the edge of the living room, his tall frame partially silhouetted by the light from the hallway. But he wasn't empty-handed.

In his hands was a sleek, silver laptop—thin, impossibly elegant, and clearly state-of-the-art.

He stepped forward carefully, setting the laptop down on the coffee table in front of her.

"It's yours," he said softly. "For your work. Your projects."

Sera's breath caught in her throat. Her wide green eyes flicked from the laptop to Damon and back again.

Slowly, hesitantly, she reached out and touched the edge of the laptop with trembling fingers, as if it might vanish the moment she made contact.

"It's the best one on the market," Damon continued. "You'll have everything you need—software, processing power, privacy. Whatever you want."

For a moment, Sera said nothing. Then, almost imperceptibly, her lips quirked into a tiny smile.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Damon's shoulders eased slightly, tension he hadn't even realized he was carrying slipping away at the sound of her voice.

"Do you need help setting it up?" he asked cautiously.

Sera shook her head, her fingers now tracing the laptop's surface with delicate precision.

"No… I can do it."

He nodded once, his steel-gray eyes softening as he took a step back.

"Take your time, Sera. You're safe here."

Later that night, Sera sat at the kitchen island, the new laptop open in front of her. The faint glow of the screen reflected in her tired eyes as lines of code began to fill the interface. Her fingers danced over the keys, hesitant at first, then more confident as muscle memory kicked in.

Liam had left hours ago with a wink and a cheesy joke. Damon had retreated to his office, leaving her in peace.

But as she worked, she felt something unfamiliar blooming in her chest.

Hope.

For the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn't coding to escape. She wasn't working in a cold, cramped lab or hiding from the man who had haunted her every breath.

She was building something.

Something hers.

Damon 

Damon stood in the shadows of the hallway, watching Sera as she worked. Her brows were furrowed in concentration, her lips pressed together in determination. There was a faint light in her eyes now—something he hadn't seen before.

He could feel his rage simmering beneath his skin every time he thought about what had been done to her. But this? Watching her, in this moment, focused and free—it anchored him.

"I'll keep you safe, Seraphina," he vowed silently. "Even if it kills me."

And somewhere in the depths of his chest, Damon Hale felt something crack—something he hadn't let himself feel in a very long time.