Chapter 234

Serena's POV

I stared at Lucas in disbelief as he calmly stated, "I've been the one taking care of you these past few days."

*And your point is?* I thought to myself.

He continued listing his caretaking duties with surprising directness. "Helping you wash your face, cleaning up, changing your..."

"Can we please stop there?" I cut him off, unable to bear any more details.

"Of course," he replied with that impossibly handsome smile of his.

"Would you like to shower?" he asked, maintaining his professional demeanor.

"No, thank you." I declined immediately. There was a world of difference between knowing something happened and having it spelled out in detail.

Trying to distract myself from the tempting thought of a hot shower, I changed the subject. "Where exactly are we?"

"This is my private residence in Portland, about two hours from the Thorne estate," he explained. "Besides us, there's a small staff - two housekeepers, five security personnel, and a private physician."

"Has Rachel been here?" I asked. The question wasn't born of jealousy. Honestly, whatever relationship had developed between him and Rachel Thorne wasn't my primary concern. What worried me was my safety. If Rachel happened to discover my presence here, I doubted Lucas could truly protect me - just like that night when he knew about the danger but couldn't prevent it.

"She doesn't know about this place," he answered. "To be precise, none of the Thornes know about this private residence."

I studied his face as he added, "I wouldn't lie to you. I wouldn't dare."

I pressed my lips together before asking directly, "You knew there would be danger that night, didn't you?"

"No, I didn't," he responded. Seeing my frown, he continued, "I've been in Portland for a month, helping the Thornes with some corporate restructuring and assisting Rachel with their annual charity gala. As for whatever the family might have been planning behind closed doors, I was kept in the dark. They still don't trust me completely."

"Then why did you try so hard to keep me away from Portland?" I challenged, skepticism evident in my voice.

He began a detailed analysis: "It was speculation based on two critical situations facing the Thorne family. First, their strategy regarding Silas Thorne's branch of the family, which is crucial to their political ambitions. Second, maintaining Clarence Thorne's commercial empire, which represents generations of family power. The key players in both situations are Atticus and myself."

I listened silently as he elaborated on the family dynamics. He explained that if anything happened to Atticus, it would severely impact Silas's position, as Atticus's father lacked both the capability and interest in political advancement. Clarence's faction saw Atticus as their primary target in their move against Silas.

Lucas explained that Clarence chose to act now because of rumors about Silas's health issues. By targeting Atticus, they hoped to force Silas's hand, possibly even engineering a situation that could prove fatal for Atticus.

His expression grew more serious when discussing his own role as the other key player. The family's approach to him differed completely from their treatment of Atticus - while they wanted Atticus eliminated, they sought to bring Lucas into their fold. My existence, he said, was the only complication in their plan to secure his loyalty.

I watched him intently, noting the subtle changes in his expression but remaining silent.

"The charity gala presented them with an opportunity they couldn't resist," he concluded. "With both you and Atticus present, they could accomplish two objectives with a single action."

I noticed his throat tighten slightly as he recalled the violence of that night. He admitted that he wasn't clever enough to fully predict the family's intentions, that these were just his assumptions and post-event analysis. He couldn't foresee everything, couldn't prepare for every possible threat to my safety. Even the family's choice to stage a car accident was something he only realized at the last moment.

"That's why I tried to keep you away from Portland," he explained. "Without your presence, they might have only targeted Atticus. But with you there, they would definitely move against him. No one, especially a family as calculating as the Thornes, would pass up the chance to achieve two goals with one strike."

His words left me in contemplative silence, the weight of the situation settling over us both.

I'll help rewrite the scene from Serena's first-person perspective, adapting it to the Manhattan setting while maintaining the emotional depth and character dynamics.

I'd anticipated the risks of coming to Portland. That's precisely why I'd left the charity gala early with Atticus Thorne. Lucas had been right - we're not omniscient. There was no way to predict how the Thorne family would move against us. Leaving early had been a calculated decision, not mere caution.

My presence in Portland wasn't simply an act of defiance against Lucas. I'd made it clear earlier - I had no other options left. Once the Thornes had set their sights on me, retreat became impossible. My only path led forward, and I needed Atticus Thorne as my shield in this game of corporate chess.

Every move I made had to consider the delicate balance of my alliance with Atticus. In the ruthless world of Manhattan's elite, the moment you cease being valuable is the moment you become disposable. I'd learned that lesson all too well in the marble halls and penthouse boardrooms of the city.

I didn't bother explaining any of this to Lucas. Looking at his composed profile against the stormy Portland sky, I suddenly found myself unable to define our relationship. It wasn't just about our personal connection anymore - it was about the precarious balance of power and influence. Were we allies or adversaries? What was his true stance on the Thorne family drama? Perhaps he was simply watching from the sidelines, waiting to see whether Clarence or Silas Thorne would emerge victorious before making his final move.

Meanwhile, I'd already cast my lot with Silas Thorne, betting everything on his son Atticus. The weight of that decision pressed heavily on my shoulders.

My emotions were a tangled mess. I'd weathered many storms before: my mother Helen's early death, the cold manipulation from my father Lawrence and stepmother Angela, and Ian's betrayal. Back then, those were simply personal wounds - things I could endure or fight against alone. But now, for the first time, I felt truly lost, unable to glimpse even a shadow of what lay ahead.

"How's Atticus?" I asked abruptly, trying to ground myself in the present. The complexities of the situation threatened to overwhelm me, but I knew one thing with certainty - Atticus and I were in this together now.

"Alive," Lucas replied curtly, his tone carrying a weight of unspoken thoughts.

"May I borrow your phone to call him?" I asked politely, maintaining the formal courtesy that came naturally after years in Manhattan's social circles.

Lucas didn't immediately respond. His obvious hostility toward Atticus only added to my confusion about where Lucas and I stood. What should our relationship be? What positions should we take in this corporate war?

"I think I need to rest a bit longer," I said softly, not pushing the issue.

"Did you know about Atticus's... preferences?" Lucas asked suddenly, his voice carefully neutral.

"Yes." I answered honestly. When Atticus had first approached me in my office about our partnership, he'd handed me evidence of his own scandals - compromising photos with other men. It was his way of ensuring my absolute trust.

Perhaps that's why I trusted Atticus more than others. For someone in Manhattan's spotlight, such revelations would be catastrophic. If I ever leaked those photos, his career would be finished. By sharing this vulnerability, he'd demonstrated absolute sincerity and given me genuine security in our alliance.

"Keep it brief," Lucas said, finally extending his phone to me.

His sudden change of heart surprised me. Moments ago, he'd been clearly resistant, but now he acquiesced without further argument. Lucas's thoughts remained as impenetrable as ever, like the mirrored surfaces of the skyscrapers we called home. I'd learned to accept that there were parts of him I might never fully understand.

After handing me his phone, Lucas stood and walked toward the door.