Chapter 238

Serena's POV

I woke up later than usual the next morning. Not that I could help it-sleep had eluded me last night, my mind too preoccupied with everything that had happened.

Fortunately, I didn't have any pressing matters to attend to. I'd already handled most of my work commitments over the phone, so at least I didn't have to worry about my late start to the day.

As I stepped out of the guest bedroom, I found Lucas sitting on the leather sofa in the great room, his attention focused on his phone. Upon noticing me, he rose smoothly and headed toward the open kitchen. By the time I reached the dining area, he had already set breakfast in front of my usual spot. Though we hadn't been living under the same roof for long, a strange sort of rhythm had developed between us-or rather, he had developed an uncanny ability to anticipate my needs. I was merely the passive recipient of his attention.

We ate breakfast together, even though it was well past ten in the morning. He had waited for me all this time.

"Is it to your liking?" he asked, his deep voice breaking the comfortable silence.

I glanced up at him, my fork pausing midway to my mouth.

"I heard you barely touched your dinner last night," he continued, his grey eyes studying my face. "I arranged for a different chef today. If you don't enjoy the food, please let me know. There's no need to punish your body."

I pressed my lips together, a wave of guilt washing over me. I hadn't realized my lack of appetite last night had cost someone their position.

"It's good," I replied briefly, my voice soft.

Sometimes I wondered if Lucas did these things deliberately-using my conscience against me to achieve his goals. Now that I knew my actions had consequences for others, I wouldn't dare skip meals, regardless of my mood.

As we continued eating, a housekeeper approached Lucas with careful steps. "Mr. Harrington, sir, did you say you wanted us to dispose of the entire outfit you wore last night?"

The uncertainty in her voice was clear-the clothes in question probably cost more than she made in months. A mistake would be costly.

"Yes," Lucas replied without hesitation, not even looking up from his plate.

The housekeeper opened her mouth as if to say something more, then thought better of it. With a respectful "Very well, sir," she retreated from the room.

I watched her leave, then turned my attention back to Lucas. "You know, I could return to the city," I suggested quietly.

I didn't see how my presence here was making anything better. Being caught between him and Rachel only complicated matters further.

"I prefer having you where I can ensure your safety," he responded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"And how long do you plan to keep me here?" I asked, unable to keep a hint of frustration from my voice.

"We'll see," he answered vaguely, his expression unreadable.

I bit my lip, swallowing the words that threatened to spill out. What was the point in arguing? This arrangement would end soon enough-next month at the latest, when he and Rachel would exchange their vows.

Drew's POV

I stared at my phone as Eleanor's name lit up the screen. Before I could even say hello, she asked, "Are you on your way?"

"Eleanor, I might be a bit late," I apologized, glancing at Spencer Sherwood's persistent messages. "Spencer won't let me leave. He's insisting I join him for drinks tonight. I've declined his invitations too many times lately, and now he's threatening to tag along if I don't stay. The last thing I want is him interrupting our evening together. Let me just get him properly drunk first, then I'll head over."

I could hear the slight disappointment in Eleanor's voice, though she tried to hide it. "That's okay. Take your time. I'll wait for you at home."

"I'll try to wrap this up as quickly as I can," I promised, my voice softening.

"No need to rush. The night is young," she replied with a hint of suggestion that didn't escape me. Truth be told, I had my own hopes for the evening ahead.

I shot an annoyed look at Spencer, who was pretending not to eavesdrop, and said to Eleanor, "See you tonight."

"See you tonight."

After hanging up, I couldn't help but smile. It's funny how happiness shows itself even in the smallest moments.

Spencer suddenly called out to Jace Gillard, who was typing away on his phone nearby. "I don't believe you actually have a girlfriend, Drew. Hey Jace, do you believe him? Unless you bring her out to meet us, I'm calling your bluff."

Before I could respond, Jace looked up and said simply, "I believe him."

I understood Spencer's game. He'd been trying to get me to bring Eleanor around for months. Though we'd been together for quite some time now, I'd never introduced her to my social circle. Sometimes I considered coming clean about our relationship, but whenever I brought it up with Eleanor, she'd gently discourage the idea.

I understood her hesitation. After everything that happened with the Harringtons, her need for privacy and security had only intensified. Besides me, only her closest friends, Serena Sinclair and Quinn Ashford, knew about us. She worried that if too many people found out, it might cause problems with the Harringtons. She knew Clara Harrington's vindictive nature well enough to know that time needed to pass before the woman's hatred would fade. Only then could we be together more openly. I had to respect her wishes.

As we headed downstairs, we ran into Clara Harrington and her daughter Maeve. The resemblance between Maeve and Eleanor was striking - they could almost pass for sisters. Everyone seemed surprised by the chance encounter, though given my mother Vivian's close friendship with Clara, perhaps it wasn't so unexpected.

"Drew, come here," my mother called out, waving me over.

I walked over, with Spencer and Jace trailing behind.

"Say hello to Clara," my mother prompted, giving me that familiar look that brooked no argument.

"Hello, Mrs. Harrington," I said politely, despite my personal feelings about her treatment of Eleanor. But for my mother's sake, I maintained the expected social niceties.

"This is Clara's daughter Maeve. She's two years younger than you," my mother said, her voice warm with obvious matchmaking intentions.

I studied Maeve briefly. Though she did look remarkably like Eleanor, there was something fundamentally different about her. "Hello," I said cordially.

"Hi," she responded shyly.

When the silence grew awkward, my mother jumped in: "You're usually so talkative, Drew. Don't tell me you're tongue-tied just because there's a pretty girl around?"

Before I could object, Clara interjected, "I'm afraid I've kept Maeve too sheltered. She's naturally quite reserved - perhaps I've been overprotective."

"Well, Drew has plenty of free time. He could show Maeve around, help her get more comfortable in social settings," my mother suggested, ignoring my glare.

"I'm actually quite busy," I protested.

"Busy doing what? Drinking with your friends?" my mother challenged, embarrassing me in front of everyone.

Unable to argue with her in public, I bit my tongue.

"We'd be so grateful if Drew could look after Maeve a bit," Clara added smoothly.

I wanted to refuse, but my mother's warning look forced out a reluctant "Sure."

I noticed Spencer and Jace exchange knowing glances - they clearly recognized this as the setup attempt it was.

The conversation that followed only made me more uncomfortable. They discussed Maeve's aspirations to enter the entertainment industry, with Clara asking Jace about potential roles for her daughter. My stomach churned as I remembered Eleanor's struggles in the industry, and how Clara had never shown an ounce of concern then. But now, for Maeve, she was pulling every string possible.

During dinner, they deliberately seated Maeve next to me. The whole situation felt suffocating. My thoughts kept drifting to Eleanor, counting the minutes until I could escape and see her. The forced small talk and obvious matchmaking attempts only strengthened my resolve to get through this quickly and get to where I really wanted to be - with Eleanor.