A Dangerous Gamble

The storm outside roared, lightning flashing against the high windows of the Duke’s manor. The room seemed darker now, the weight of Lucian Ravencourt’s silver gaze pinning Ishani in place.

Her words still lingered in the air. I’m not your enemy. Not anymore.

The real Seraphina Valente would have scoffed, thrown her head back with mocking laughter, and spat venom at him just to prove her arrogance. But Ishani Rao, trapped in the villainess’s body, had no such luxury.

She needed to survive. And survival meant change.

Lucian’s hand still tilted her chin upward. His touch wasn’t gentle—it was a test, a reminder that at any moment he could end her.

“You speak strangely, wife,” he said, his tone unreadable. “I wonder if you think I’m fool enough to believe you.”

His thumb brushed against her jawline, not tender but calculating.

Ishani’s throat dried. Every instinct screamed at her to pull back. But she forced herself to hold still, to meet his gaze with trembling determination.

“If you wish to kill me, you can,” she said softly, her voice shaking but steady enough to be heard. “But what would that earn you, my lord? Nothing but blood on your floor. A wife who is obedient… could serve you better.”

Silence.

The words tasted bitter. Obedient? She wanted to gag at the word. But if playing meek kept her alive one more day, so be it.

Lucian’s eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable. Then, he released her chin and stepped back.

“Obedient?” His laugh was low, humorless. “Seraphina Valente, the serpent of high society, speaking of obedience? Now I am certain—tonight, you are different.”

His boots echoed as he turned, striding toward the window. The storm’s light carved his silhouette sharp against the glass.

Ishani let out a shaky breath, her chest heaving. He hadn’t killed her. Not yet.

Her mind raced. I need to act carefully. If I push too far, he’ll see through me. If I act too much like Seraphina, I’ll die like her. I need a balance. I need him to hesitate.

When Lucian turned back, his gaze sharpened. “If you truly wish to prove you are not my enemy, wife, you’ll have to do better than trembling words.”

His words pierced through her. He wasn’t wrong. In this world, words alone wouldn’t save her. Actions would.

Swallowing her fear, Ishani lowered her eyes—a gesture the real Seraphina would never have given. “Then tell me, my lord. What is it you expect of me?”

The silence stretched. She could feel his surprise, though he masked it quickly.

Finally, Lucian’s lips curved in a faint, dangerous smile. “Very well. Tomorrow, you will accompany me to the council meeting. You will sit beside me, silent, composed, and you will not disgrace me. If you fail…”

His voice trailed off, the implication clear.

Ishani’s pulse quickened. The council? Nobles? Politics? She didn’t know the rules of this world beyond what she had read. If she slipped up, one wrong word, she’d be devoured.

But she nodded anyway. “As you command.”

Lucian tilted his head, his eyes glinting. “Obedient indeed. I almost want to see how long this act lasts.”

He brushed past her, the faintest scent of steel and leather lingering in the air. At the doorway, he paused.

“One more thing, wife.”

Ishani stiffened.

“If this is a game you’re playing, if you think to manipulate me… remember this.” His voice turned razor-sharp. “Snakes can be skinned alive before they ever bare their fangs.”

The door shut behind him.

Ishani collapsed onto the bed, her legs finally giving way. Her hands shook violently, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Her heart screamed: I survived. I survived tonight.

But tomorrow?

Tomorrow, she would face the Duke’s world. Nobles who despised Seraphina. A council of men ready to sneer at her downfall. And at her side, a husband who watched her like a predator studying prey.

She pressed her palms to her face, tears stinging her eyes. “Ishani Rao, what have you done? You wanted to change her fate… now you might die even sooner.”

But even as fear gnawed at her chest, a spark flickered deep inside.

She remembered the countless times she had cried reading Chains of Desire, wishing the villainess had fought harder, been smarter.

This is my chance. My only chance. If I can play this role better… maybe I can rewrite the ending.

Her lips curved into a shaky, determined smile.

“Fine, Duke Lucian Ravencourt,” she whispered into the silence. “If it’s a game you want, I’ll play. But I’ll play my way.”

The storm outside began to fade, the patter of rain softening against the windows. Ishani lay back on the bed, clutching the silk sheets as if they were a lifeline.

Sleep didn’t come easily. Memories of Seraphina’s cruelty whispered at the edges of her mind—how she had humiliated servants, sabotaged the heroine, and scorned the Duke himself. Every memory was a trap waiting to pull Ishani into the same fate.

But Ishani Rao wasn’t Seraphina Valente. She wouldn’t repeat those mistakes. She couldn’t.

As dawn crept into the sky, her eyes fluttered open. Today would be her first true test.

Morning arrived with a knock at her chamber door. A maid entered, her expression stiff and wary.

“Good morning, my lady,” the maid said, bowing shallowly. Her tone carried no warmth, only fear mixed with resentment.

Ishani’s chest tightened. The real Seraphina would have slapped the girl for not bowing low enough. But Ishani forced a gentle tone.

“You may rise.”

The maid’s eyes widened, confusion flickering across her face.

Ishani offered a small smile. “Prepare me for the council meeting. I… want to look my best.”

The maid bowed again, clearly unsettled, before hurrying to fetch gowns and jewels.

Ishani touched her reflection in the mirror once more. The villainess’s face stared back—beautiful, sharp, terrifying.

She whispered to herself, “From today… Seraphina Valente will no longer be the villainess everyone despises. If I’m to survive, I’ll change her story.”

But as the heavy doors of the council chamber loomed closer in her imagination, her heart pounded with dread.

Because change was dangerous.

And in the world of the cruel Duke, one mistake could still mean death.

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