Kairo never broke into the Headmaster's office.
He didn't have to.
One call. One threat. One name whispered.
The doors opened themselves.
He scanned the mahogany desk until he found the hidden drawer.
Only three people were supposed to know it existed.
He wasn't one of them.
Inside?
An old leather folder with two names embossed in gold.
**Velasquez. De León.**
He flipped it open — and the air left his lungs.
> *Marriage Contract.*
> *Sera Isolde Velasquez.*
> *Kairo Andrés De León.*
He blinked. Once. Twice.
No… this was a game. A lie. It had to be.
But the signatures were real.
His father's. Her mother's.
A merger. A claim. A cage.
He felt sick.
This wasn't about love. Or rivalry. Or power.
This was about **ownership**.
He staggered back, gripping the desk like it was the only thing holding him up.
She knew.
Sera **knew** and still played him like a piece.
And yet—
The look in her eyes last night. The rain. The heat. The way she walked away shaking.
She wasn't the only one who burned.
He was burning too.
For her.
For truth.
For a choice he never had.
> "You want war, Seraphina?" he whispered, throat raw.
> "Then I'll give you something worse—**truth in the ruins.**"