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Trapped within an invisible pyramid-shaped house, Seraphine is a ghost bound by a curse to protect a treasure no one can see. For centuries, she’s watched the world from the shadows, longing for someone to stay with her—someone who won't leave once they discover the gold buried within the house's cursed walls.

When Lucien Vale, a desperate man with nothing left to lose, stumbles upon the legend of the house, he risks everything to find it. A man broken by poverty, haunted by his past, Lucien seeks only wealth—but when he crosses the threshold, something shifts.

Seraphine sees him for the first time, not as a greedy trespasser, but as a chance for love, for companionship. But as their fates entwine, she must confront a haunting truth: all who seek the house come for gold, and in the end, greed is always the thing that tears them apart.

In her loneliness, Seraphine has killed every man who tried to escape, burying them in the graveyard behind the house. Will Lucien be the first to stay? Or will his own darkness unravel them both?

Unfolded

She stayed still in his arms, heart pounding against his chest like it could shake the walls of the house itself.

Then, slowly, she pulled back to look at him.

Her gaze was searching, wide and wet and confused. "Why didn't you come when I asked you to?"

Lucien looked down at her, at the fragility in her voice, and guilt twisted in his gut. But the truth—the real truth—wasn't safe here.

"I… I don't know," he said quietly.

She tilted her head, brow furrowing. "You promised me," she whispered. "You said you wouldn't leave."

So he pulled her back into his chest again, held her tight, and said softly near her ear, "I was mad at you."

"Because you don't trust me," he murmured. "You showed me the graveyard… to scare me. So I wouldn't leave."

Her eyes shimmered again. He lifted her face gently by the chin.

"I'm not going to leave you, Seraph," he said, voice low, steady, and too convincing. "Never."

It was not shy or soft. It was aching. Desperate. A collision of need and uncertainty. Her breath hitched as his mouth claimed hers again and again, his hands pressing against her back, cradling her like something delicate.

His fingers tangled in her hair, his mouth trailing down to her jaw, to the hollow of her neck. She gasped, tilting her head back, letting him map her throat with his lips, every inch a vow.

He kissed her again, harder this time, and her hands clutched at his shirt, pulling him closer as they stumbled backwards onto his bed.

He hovered above her, eyes searching hers one last time for permission.

She pulled him down into another kiss.

They moved together like the only thing that could save them was each other. His hands slid along her waist, under the fabric of her dress, up her ribs, reverent.

She arched into him, whispering his name like it was sacred.

He pressed his forehead to hers, breathless.

His hands trembled slightly as he lifted the hem of her gown further, revealing the soft skin beneath.

But as he moved, settling between her legs, she caught his wrist.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, eyes wide—not scared, but… unsure.

Lucien nodded. He kissed her again, slow this time, almost gentle, lips brushing hers like a promise.

They lay like that, tangled in each other, hearts thundering and unsaid things thick in the air. He pulled a blanket over them both and let his hand rest against the curve of her waist.

Neither of them said another word.

To Be Wanted