Chapter 292

Serena's POV

I rested my head against Lucas's chest, his heartbeat strong and steady beneath my ear. Despite my overwhelming exhaustion, sleep refused to claim me. Every time I closed my eyes, bloody images flashed before me-Milo looking so small, so helpless in Rachel's grasp. My body ached with fatigue, but my mind remained cruelly alert, replaying those terrifying moments over and over.

The silence between us was heavy with unspoken words. I couldn't bear to let my thoughts wander in that quiet, couldn't face the memories that lurked in the stillness.

"Lucas," I spoke suddenly, my voice sounding foreign even to my own ears.

"Hmm?" His response rumbled through his chest, vibrating against my cheek.

The question that had been haunting me rose to my lips before I could stop it. "Do you hate me?"

I felt his body tense slightly beneath mine. He paused for a moment, then answered with quiet certainty, "I've never hated you."

"Not even once?" I pressed, needing to understand. "I've pushed you away so many times. Over and over again. You never resented me for it?"

His hand moved to stroke my hair gently. "No. Every time you pushed me away, I was too busy figuring out how to bring you back. I never had time to hate you."

The simplicity of his answer made my throat tighten. How could anyone be so steadfast, so unwavering in their devotion? Especially someone like Lucas Harrington, who could have anyone he wanted with a mere glance.

"Serena," he said softly, his voice taking on a thoughtful tone. "Have I ever told you why I love you so much?"

"You said it was love at first sight," I replied, remembering his words from months ago.

"Yes, but did I tell you when that first sight was?"

I looked up at him, confusion clouding my thoughts. "What do you mean?"

He shook his head slightly. "We met long."

"We did?" I searched my memory, finding nothing.

"Yes. At your mother's funeral."

The words hit me like a physical blow. My mother's funeral. I was only six years old when Helen Sinclair passed away, leaving me alone with a father who would soon remarry and welcome a new daughter into his life-a daughter he would love far more than me.

"How?" I whispered, struggling to process this revelation.

Lucas shifted slightly, his arms tightening around me as if to shield me from the pain of the memory.

"I was there with my grandfather and parents. A business obligation, really. I was just a child myself." His voice took on a distant quality, lost in recollection. "But then I saw you. This tiny girl, kneeling in the great hall, not crying, not making a sound. You were so still, so silent that you seemed barely there at all."

I remembered that day in fragments-the suffocating black dress, the sea of strange adult faces, the overwhelming emptiness where my mother's love had been.

"You were so composed," Lucas continued. "But your eyes... your eyes held such profound sadness that I couldn't look away. I remember tugging on my grandfather's sleeve, asking if we could take you home with us."

A small, broken laugh escaped me at the thought of young Lucas trying to adopt me like a stray kitten.

"What did Howard say to that?"

"He patted my head and told me that you had your own family to take care of you." Lucas's voice hardened slightly. "I didn't understand then what kind of 'care' Lawrence Sinclair would provide."

I closed my eyes, feeling the sting of old wounds.

"After that day," Lucas went on, "I would hear your name whenever I came back from boarding school. My friends would mention the brilliant Serena Sinclair, and something in me would stir, though I couldn't understand why."

"So when did you realize?" I asked, curiosity momentarily overshadowing my exhaustion.

"I think I knew I liked you when I was twelve," he admitted. "But you were only nine, so I kept it to myself. I was away at school most of the time anyway, and then university abroad. The visits home became less frequent, and Rachel was always there..."

My body tensed involuntarily at the mention of Rachel Thorne.

"So you did have feelings for Rachel?" The question slipped out before I could stop it, betraying an insecurity I hated to acknowledge.

Lucas shook his head firmly. "No. When I turned twenty and saw you again at that rooftop bar downtown, I knew with absolute certainty." His hand tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his intense gaze. "Rachel was just what was expected-appropriate backgrounds, compatible families. But with you..." His voice dropped lower. "With you, it was something I couldn't control. It was like trying to stop a storm with your bare hands."

The raw emotion in his voice made my heart constrict. Here was a man who had waited for me, fought for me, never given up on me despite my best efforts to push him away.

"I didn't know," I whispered, thinking of all the time we'd wasted, all the pain we might have avoided if I'd known the depth of his feelings sooner.

"You weren't supposed to know," he replied, a hint of his characteristic confidence returning. "I wanted to earn your heart, Serena. Not claim it because of some childhood connection you didn't even remember."

I reached up to touch his face, tracing the strong line of his jaw. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice barely audible above the hum of the engine. "For all the misunderstandings I had about you before."

Lucas turned to me, his gray eyes softening in the dim light.

"It doesn't matter," he said, reaching over to take my hand. His touch was warm, steady, anchoring me when everything else felt like it was spinning out of control. "None of it matters now."

He pulled me into his embrace. "Being with you like this is enough," he continued, his deep voice rumbling in his chest against my ear. "I can feel your heart now, Serena. I can feel that it's real, what's between us. That's all I need."

His words sounded too much like a goodbye, and panic clawed at my throat. I reached up and pressed my hand against his lips, silencing him.

"Don't," I pleaded. "Don't talk like you're saying goodbye."

His eyes met mine, steady and resolute. I realized then that his words weren't just meant to distract me from our desperate situation. He was afraid this might be his last chance to tell me how he felt, to express the love he'd carried for years.

"I don't want you going in there with the mindset that you have to die," I said, my voice breaking despite my efforts to stay strong. "That's not how this ends, Lucas."

He gently removed my hand from his mouth, but kept it held tightly in his. "We need to face reality, Serena. I want us to have as few regrets as possible if-"

"No," I cut him off, shaking my head. "No matter what we do, there will be regrets. There always are."

"Rachel won't let Milo go easily," he said, his voice hardening at the mention of her name. "You know that."

Rachel Thorne. The woman who had been a thorn in my side from the beginning, who had tried to take everything from me.

"All I can promise is that as long as I'm alive, Milo will be too," Lucas continued.