Nightow_l

Seraphina Vale has always lived in a world of elegance, where fabric weaves stories and beauty is her silent armor. As the face of her mother’s renowned fashion empire, she walks the runway with grace, but off-stage, she’s the quiet storm—reserved, untouchable, and calculating.

Her twin brother, Caelum, is her opposite—a scheming charmer with a heart too big for his own good. And then there’s Isolde, the warm yet enigmatic girl who has been part of their family for as long as memory serves. Caelum adores her. Seraphina trusts her. But love and trust are fickle things.

Enter Lucian Drax—the cold, infuriatingly charming heir to the wealthiest family in Velmoria. Once the golden boy of the city, he vanished without a trace, only to return years later with an unreadable gaze and a past he won’t speak of. To the world, he is untouchable. To Seraphina, he is the one mistake she never saw coming.

A single night. A tangled fate. A secret neither of them is ready to face.

Neither Lucian nor Seraphina remember much about the night they spent together—except for one detail, a clue that only he knows. It lingers in his mind, an unsolved mystery, whispering a question he cannot ignore: Could the woman he shared that fateful night with be the very same girl he once thought was an unreachable star?

In a world of whispered scandals, stolen glances, and the kind of love that burns slow but deep—Seraphina and Lucian find themselves in a dance of fate neither of them can escape.

Because some echoes refuse to be silenced.
And the past never truly stays forgotten.

Echoes of the unforgotten

The golden sun dipped into the horizon of Velmoria, casting a warm glow upon the Vale estate—a place where elegance and tradition intertwined like the delicate lace of a gown. The grand manor, nestled atop the hills of Aurelle, stood as a silent witness to the life within—a life woven with love, ambition, and quiet secrets. Tonight, the halls would come alive, the chandeliers would gleam like stars fallen from the heavens, and laughter would spill through corridors lined with history.

Seraphina Vale's twentieth birthday.

A twin celebration, for where she was, Caelum was never far behind.

Inside the estate, the scent of vanilla and fresh roses swirled in the air, mingling with the quiet hum of preparation. Soft melodies from a grand piano echoed from the east wing, where her mother, Lady Evangeline Vale, a designer whose name graced the lips of the fashion elite, ensured every detail of the soirée was as flawless as the gowns she created. Her presence alone was elegance embodied—statuesque, with an artist's soul and the quiet strength of a woman who built an empire from thread and dreams.

Across the estate, in his dimly lit study, Lord Dorian Vale, a man of unwavering principles and calculated words, overlooked the city below. His law firm, a pillar of justice in Velmoria, had seen countless battles in its grand halls. He was a man of letters, of law, of wisdom—but in this home, he was simply a father, one whose love was measured not in words, but in the silent protection he cast over his children.

And their children—twins as different as the sun and moon.

Seraphina, the quiet storm, draped in grace, with an aura that spoke louder than words. Reserved, yet never unnoticed. Innocent, yet calculating. The girl whose beauty was rivaled only by the sharpness of her mind.

Caelum, the reckless flame, burning too bright and too fast. A schemer, a charmer, a lover of laughter, yet fiercely protective of the one who shared his name, his birth, his fate.

And then there was Isolde Veyne. The girl with no last name to call her own, until the Vales took her in. A daughter of justice, born to a judge and a prosecutor, stripped of her family by the cruel hands of fate. She had arrived at the Vale estate in the shadow of tragedy, but time had woven her into their world. A sister in all but blood. A presence as steady as the ticking of time.

The preparations stretched into the evening, the estate glowing under golden chandeliers as the city below hummed with life. The night would bring laughter, champagne, stolen glances, and whispered promises beneath a moonlit sky.

But the echoes of fate had already begun their quiet song.

For some nights were meant to be remembered. And others, to be unforgotten.

Whispers of Celebration