Chapter 124

Serena's POV

I walked out of the grand ballroom with deliberate grace, each step measured and unhurried.

The night air hit my face as I stepped outside, bringing with it the familiar symphony of Manhattan - distant sirens, the hum of traffic, the pulse of a city that never truly sleeps. My crimson gown caught the light from the towering buildings around us, and for a moment, I allowed myself to appreciate the irony.

"Your car, Ms. Sinclair," Ethan held the door open.

I slid into the back seat of the black Rolls-Royce, letting out a carefully controlled breath only after the door closed behind me. The leather seats were cool against my bare shoulders, and I watched the city lights blur past the tinted windows, consciously avoiding any glimpse of the building I'd just left. *Don't hope, and you won't be disappointed.*

It took precisely six blocks before I realized we weren't heading toward home.

"Ethan," I kept my voice level, "this isn't the way to my apartment."

There was a slight pause before he responded, his eyes meeting mine briefly in the rearview mirror. "Mr. Harrington requested your presence at the family estate, Ms. Sinclair."

My hand instinctively moved toward my phone, but Ethan's next words stopped me cold.

"I wouldn't advise making any calls, Ms. Sinclair. Mr. Harrington assured me no harm will come to you, but unnecessary resistance might... complicate matters."

I felt my jaw tighten but forced it to relax. In Manhattan's upper echelons, the Harrington name carried weight. If Howard Harrington wanted someone to disappear, they disappeared.

The car turned onto Fifth Avenue, leaving the busier streets behind as we headed toward the more exclusive neighborhoods. I used the time to think, to plan. My mind cataloged every detail - the route, the driver's demeanor, the timing.

The Harrington estate emerged from behind wrought iron gates like something from another era - a mansion that wouldn't have looked out of place in Newport's Gilded Age. Old money, old power. The kind that didn't need to announce itself.

A butler met me at the door. His silver hair and impeccable posture were as much a part of the house as its marble columns.

"This way, Ms. Sinclair," he gestured toward the grand staircase. "Mr. Harrington will join you shortly."

The study he led me to was exactly what I expected - leather-bound books, antique furniture. A silver tray of refreshments sat on a side table, an oddly hospitable touch for what was essentially a kidnapping.

I settled into one of the leather chairs, smoothing my gown with steady hands. The clock on the mantel read 9:15 PM.

I helped myself to a delicate chocolate truffle from the tray. Whatever was coming, I refused to face it on an empty stomach. At precisely 10 PM, the study door opened.

I rose from the chair as Howard was wheeled in by his butler.

The door closed behind them. Now it was just the three of us in the study.

Howard positioned himself behind the desk, while butler stood respectfully behind him. Both of them studied me intently.

Some people possessed an innate ability to intimidate - it was impossible to ignore their presence.

"Please sit, Miss Sinclair," he finally spoke after scrutinizing me.

"Thank you, Mr. Harrington," I responded, maintaining my composure - neither submissive nor arrogant.

"Miss Sinclair, I'll be direct." Howard's voice carried the weight of generations of authority. "I want you to leave Lucas."

I'd been expecting this conversation, but the bluntness still caught me slightly off guard. I took a measured breath, keeping my voice steady. "With all due respect, Mr. Harrington, I don't believe this is something for others to decide."

He lifted his teacup, and I noticed the slight pause in his movement - barely perceptible, but there. His eyes, sharp as ever, studied me over the rim. "You're not what I expected, Miss Sinclair."

"And what did you expect?" I met his gaze evenly.

"Someone easier to intimidate, perhaps." The ghost of a smile touched his lips. "I've done my research on you, Serena. Your handling of the StarRiver crisis was... impressive. The way you outmaneuvered Nina Sinclair- that showed real talent."

The compliment felt like the prelude to a strike. I remained silent, waiting.

"Which is precisely why this situation is so... unfortunate." He set down his cup with deliberate care. "You're a remarkable young woman. Smart, capable, ambitious. You could have your pick of suitable matches. Jace Gillard, for instance, has expressed interest."

A humorless laugh escaped me before I could stop it. "Love isn't something you can orchestrate like a business deal, Mr. Harrington."

"Isn't it?" His eyes hardened. "Given your background and capabilities, you could choose anyone in the Harrington family - except Lucas."

The words stung more than I wanted to admit. They echoed too closely to wounds that hadn't fully healed, reminders of past rejections and family betrayals.

"I understand your position," I said carefully. "And I respect that you want what's best for Lucas and his children. But if this relationship needs to end, it should be our decision. We deserve at least that much dignity."

Howard's fingers drummed once on his desk. "You misunderstand, Miss Sinclair. I'm not suggesting a mutual parting. I want you to leave him. Make him believe it's your choice."

The cruelty of the request hit me like a physical blow. "No." The word came out soft but firm. "I won't pretend to be something I'm not to make this easier for you. If you want to destroy what Lucas and I have, you'll have to do it openly."