Chapter 153

Serena's POV

Eleanor sent me a text. "What time did you leave this morning?"

"Just after 7 AM," I replied.

"So you didn't sleep at all last night?" Her concern was evident even through the message.

"I got a little rest," I texted back. "Remember to eat. I have a meeting starting soon."

"Take care of yourself," Eleanor urged.

"I will."

Even through the screen, I could sense Eleanor's worry about my hectic schedule.

I put down my phone and headed to the conference room. The morning was spent discussing bidding proposals, while the afternoon was dedicated to developing a new brand strategy. For a company to keep growing, constant innovation is essential.

By the time the meetings ended, it was already time for most people to leave the office. I stayed behind to process dozens of approval requests that needed my attention.

My phone rang. I glanced at it and declined the call. A moment later, it rang again - an unknown number this time. After a brief hesitation, I answered, "Hello?"

"This is Midtown North Precinct, NYPD. We're calling in regards to yesterday's assault, Chapman versus Whitmore. We're requesting you come in to the station to clarify your statement."

"Alright," I agreed. "Should I come now?"

"That would be best."

"I'll be right there." I set aside my work and left my office.

Vincent looked surprised to see me leaving so early. "Ms. Sinclair?"

"My computer's still on. Could you help process the requests? Call or message me if you're unsure about anything."

"Of course," Vincent quickly agreed.

I took a taxi to the police station. My driving skills weren't the best, and given how little sleep I'd gotten last night, I didn't want to risk driving while fatigued.

When I arrived at the station, Ian was already there. My phone vibrated again - another call from Beatrice. I silenced it without looking.

"Ms. Sinclair?" The detective's voice broke through my thoughts. "If you'll follow me, we need to verify a few details about last night's incident."

I nodded, rising from the hard plastic chair. Ian Whitmore lounged against the wall. Our eyes met briefly before I looked away, refusing to acknowledge his presence.

The detective led us both to his office, a cramped space dominated by a desk cluttered with files and coffee cups. I deliberately chose the chair furthest from Ian, keeping my posture rigid despite my body's protest for rest.

"About Mr. Chapman's actions last night," the detective began, shuffling through his papers. "You're certain you want to press charges?"

"Absolutely." My voice came out stronger than I felt. "James Chapman's behavior was completely unacceptable. He threatened not only me but potentially the stability of StarRiver Group. I want this on record."

The detective nodded, sliding a form across the desk. "Please review and sign this statement."

As I leaned forward to read, my vision blurred momentarily. I blinked hard, forcing myself to focus on the words. My signature was less steady than usual, but it would suffice.

"That should be all for now," the detective said. "We'll contact you if we need any additional information."

I stood carefully, gathering my coat and bag. The floor seemed to tilt slightly beneath my feet, but I refused to show any sign of weakness. Ian followed me out of the office, his footsteps echoing mine.

"Serena." His said with hypocritical generosity. "Let me drive you home. It's late, and cabs are scarce at this hour."

"No, thank you." I kept walking, heading for the station's exit.

He persisted, matching my pace. "Don't be stubborn. We could grab a late dinner, talk things through. After everything that's happened with the Whitmore family crisis, I've had time to reflect. I realize now how much you did for me, how much I took for granted."

I stopped abruptly, turning to face him. "Save it, Ian. Your sudden concern isn't fooling anyone, least of all me."

"I'm being sincere." He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "I know I hurt you. I want to make amends. After this is all over, I'll stay out of your life completely. Just give me one chance to apologize properly."

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "If you were truly sorry, you wouldn't be here right now, trying to manipulate the situation to your advantage. I see right through you, Ian. Whatever scheme you're plotting, whatever angle you're working - save your breath. I'm not giving you any opening to exploit."

The mask of contrition on his face flickered for just a moment, revealing a flash of the calculation beneath. "You've become quite cynical, Serena. I remember when you used to believe in second chances."

"I remember when I used to believe in you. We all grow wiser - ."

The world suddenly tilted sharply. I reached out instinctively, my hand finding the wall for support. The station's harsh lighting seemed to intensify, creating halos around every object.

"Serena?" Ian's voice sounded distant. "Are you alright?"

I tried to respond, to maintain my composure, but the room was spinning faster now. A strange numbness crept through my limbs. Something was wrong - deeply wrong. The last thing I saw before darkness claimed me was Ian's face, his expression an unsettling mixture of blackness and calculation.