Chapter 56

Lucas's POV

I kept my movements measured and deliberate as I worked through the crisis response checklist, though my mind raced with possibilities and contingencies.

Miles stood quietly by the door, tablet in hand, waiting for my next instruction. I'd already set several wheels in motion: calls to media outlets, arrangements with the PR team, and a discreet conversation with Eleanor's management. Now came the hardest part.

My fingers closed around the Mont Blanc pen, turning it slowly as I stared at my phone. The urge to protect her warred with the knowledge that she valued her independence. I'd learned enough about Serena to know that a wrong move now could push her further away.

"Get the international crisis management team ready for tomorrow morning," I told Miles, keeping my voice steady. "Have them route through Weehawken first."

He nodded and stepped out, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The pen rotated faster between my fingers as I dialed her number. One ring. Two. The city lights blurred into streaks of gold and silver beyond the glass.

"Mr. Harrington." Her voice was controlled, professional. Too professional.

I forced myself to match her tone. "I've arranged for the negative coverage to be pulled. The crisis team will be here by morning, and I can have the funds transferred immediately."

The silence that followed felt endless. I could almost see her expression - that careful mask she wore when wrestling with difficult decisions.

"I appreciate the offer, but no." Her words came slowly, deliberately. "I'll handle this myself."

The pen stilled in my grip. "Don't you trust me?"

"No." A pause, then softer: "I don't trust anyone but myself anymore."

My knuckles whitened around the pen. "Serena-"

"Mr. Harrington," she cut in, "I'm grateful for your concern. But this is my problem to solve. I won't have you facing complications because of me."

The line went dead. I stared at the phone, jaw clenched, as the silence of the office pressed in around me. The pen creaked in protest under my grip.

A quiet knock preceded Miles's entrance. He took one look at my expression and said, "She turned down the help?"

I set the pen down before I could snap it. "She did."

"Sir." Miles's voice held a note of careful consideration. "Remember who she is. StarRiver's heir wouldn't risk her mother's legacy without a plan."

The tension in my shoulders eased slightly as his words sank in. He was right. Serena had survived worse, had rebuilt herself from nothing once before. If she said she could handle this...

"Keep monitoring the situation," I said, turning back to my laptop. "Discreetly."

"Of course, sir."

The night stretched ahead, filled with work that demanded attention. But my thoughts kept drifting to her, hoping she knew that even if she wouldn't accept my help directly, I'd still be here.

Serena's POV

At StarRiver Group's executive conference room, twenty-four pairs of eyes fixed on me, each revealing varying degrees of panic. I kept my gaze steady, though my fingertips pressed slightly harder against the leather portfolio in front of me.

This was StarRiver's first major crisis since Mother had passed away. The thought of her gave me strength - she would have handled this with the same composure I needed to show now.

"Serena, have you figured out how to handle this?" Nina's voice cut through the tension, dripping with manufactured concern. "If we don't act quickly, StarRiver might..."

I studied her carefully. The slight upturn of her lips betrayed her satisfaction at the chaos she'd orchestrated. Ian was likely involved too - the timing was too perfect to be coincidental. They were still using the same old tricks, just with higher stakes now.

"Thank you for your concern, Nina." I kept my voice level, ignoring the flutter of anxiety in my chest. "Let's review the situation systematically."

Wesley Morgan cleared his throat. "The preliminary numbers show fifty thousand units affected. The social media backlash is..." He trailed off, his expression grim.

I nodded, allowing the weight of the situation to settle before speaking. "I have a four-step plan to address this crisis."

The room fell silent. I could feel Nina's eyes boring into me, probably hoping to see me crumble. Instead, I straightened my spine and continued.

"First, we will accept all returns unconditionally."

"But the financial impact-" Wesley started.

"Will be significant," I finished for him. "Which brings me to step two. I need Finance to calculate our exact shortfall by end of day. Factor in both the 50% return rate and outstanding payments."

I paused, noting how Lily was already taking rapid notes.

"Third, we're holding a press conference tomorrow morning. Lily, I want you to invite all major Manhattan media outlets. No private negotiations, no under-the-table deals. We face this transparently." I turned to her. "Please arrange appropriate refreshments for the media. We're not bribing them, but we will show them proper hospitality."

Lily nodded, a glimmer of respect in her eyes.

"Finally, all department heads must reassure their teams. No external discussions about this situation. We handle this as one unified company."

The tension in the room had shifted. Where there had been panic, I now sensed cautious hope. But I wasn't finished. In a move that surprised even myself, I stood and bowed deeply to the assembled executives.

"StarRiver is more than just a company to me," I said, my voice firm despite the emotion threatening to crack it. "It's my mother's legacy, and I give you my word - I will not let it fall."

The silence that followed felt electric. Then Wesley stood up.

"Ms. Sinclair has my complete support," he declared.

"And mine," Lily added immediately.

One by one, the other executives voiced their support. I straightened, catching Nina's expression darken from the corner of my eye.

"Thank you," I said quietly. "Please begin implementing the plan immediately. We'll reconvene at 8 AM tomorrow to review progress."

As the executives filed out, I remained standing. Nina lingered by the door. "That was quite a performance, sis."

I turned to face her, seeing not just my stepsister, but a reflection of all the challenges ahead. "It wasn't a performance, Nina. It was a promise."