Chapter 191

Serena's POV

Lucas met my gaze with characteristic intensity. "Aunt Clara is furious right now. If I intervene on Eleanor's behalf, it will only escalate the situation. The best approach is to let things cool down for a while. Once Aunt Clara's anger subsides, we can handle this more effectively. At least then, Eleanor won't end up with nothing."

My anger flared at his calculated response. "That's your strategy. Do whatever you want, but you have no right to stop me from seeing Eleanor."

"I admit I'm being selfish," he said, his voice measured. "I don't want you becoming my aunt's target. She's forbidden anyone from approaching or helping Eleanor right now. If you go see her, it will only make your situation worse. You're already dealing with the lawsuit."

"That's my problem," I replied coldly.

He persisted, his tone remaining steady. "Besides, Eleanor might not want to see you. She has her pride. Going from being Manhattan's golden girl to... this. Do you think she's ready to face you or anyone else? She probably needs time alone to process everything..."

"Lucas..." I started to argue.

"More importantly," he cut me off, "Jace is watching over her."

I paused, then let out a derisive laugh. "Jace? Really? When Eleanor was still the Harrington heiress, he could barely spare her a glance. Now that she's fallen from grace, you think he'll wade into this mess? And even if he wanted to, what could he do? Your aunt has banned anyone from helping her. What's Jace going to do - get himself thrown out of the family too? You really think he'd go that far for Eleanor?"

"Remember when I told you Jace had his reasons for rejecting Eleanor?" he said suddenly.

I remained silent, unwilling to engage with this line of reasoning.

But as he carefully explained those reasons, each word deliberate and weighted, I felt the ground shift beneath my understanding. In the span of a day, the Harrington family had dropped two bombshells that left me reeling.

Seeing my shocked expression, he concluded simply, "So yes, you can trust Jace in this."

I found myself wavering, my earlier certainty crumbling.

"I understand your friendship with Eleanor," he continued, his voice softening. "And I've never opposed that relationship. Eleanor is a wonderful person, Harrington or not. She deserves true friends. But you've tried calling her - her phone remains off. That says something. It says she doesn't want to be disturbed right now, by anyone."

My heart sank, unable to deny the logic in his words. Perhaps Eleanor really did need this time alone, rather than interference from anyone.

Eleanor's POV

The city was erasing me, one advertisement at a time.

I watched from across the street as workers tore down my billboard in the drizzling rain. They didn't even wait for better weather - that's how desperate everyone was to forget me. My face, printed on expensive paper that had cost thousands to produce, was now being crumpled and tossed into the back of a pickup truck like yesterday's garbage.

I had left the hospital early this morning, slipping out during the nurses' shift change. After a week of turning off my phone and shutting out the world, I couldn't take another day of her visits. Every day she'd come with her homemade soups, her eyes filled with a desperate need for forgiveness that made my skin crawl.

"I don't need this," I'd tell her each time, sometimes knocking the soup container to the floor in frustration. She never argued, never defended herself. She'd just silently clean up the mess and leave, her shoulders hunched with the disappointment. Her silence was worse than any excuse she could have offered.

My heart was screaming. *I don't want your pity or your attempts at redemption! I never want to see you again - not in this lifetime. I won't feel sorry for you, I won't forgive you, and I can't stand seeing you grovel like this. I'm sick of you trying to manipulate me with guilt!*

The headlines about Serena Sinclair's lawsuit still dominated social media, but surprisingly, my true parentage remained hidden. Of course it did - the Harringtons would never voluntarily expose such a scandal. I'd never officially been presented as their daughter anyway, so it was easy enough to keep buried.

November in Manhattan was brutally cold, and I'd left the hospital wearing only thin clothes. The doctor's warnings echoed in my head. "You're still weak. No exposure to cold, no strenuous activity. You need at least a month of rest."

*But what did it matter now? When you've lost everything that defined you, what's a little physical discomfort?*

I wandered aimlessly through the streets. It was strange - I'd been featured in so many magazines and billboards, yet no one recognized me now. The only looks I got were ones of concern or confusion, probably wondering why anyone would be walking in this weather without a proper coat.

As dusk approached, the city's lights began to flicker on, but they offered no warmth. The rain had soaked through my clothes, and my hair clung to my face in wet strands. I should have been cold, but I felt nothing.

I kept walking. After all, what else could I do? In a city of millions, I had never felt more alone.