Chapter 20

Serena's POV

I meet his gaze, cold and unwavering. "Then you'd better find someone else, because I'd rather burn this entire mansion down than tie my life to a jerk like you."

He raises an eyebrow, his grin never fading. "We'll see," he says, giving me one last condescending glance before strolling off.

I head downstairs. My mind's focused on just one thing: getting the hell out of here. But as soon as I step past the foyer, I spot Nina lingering by the main entrance, arms folded, an annoyingly smug look on her face.

"Serena," she calls, voice dripping with fake concern. "Wait up."

I don't slow down. "What is it?"

She rushes over, blocking my path. "I heard Dad wants to arrange something with James Chapman. Makes sense, doesn't it? He's well-paid, fairly high up at Harrington International Holdings, great connections-"

"Don't waste your breath." I cut her off, feeling that familiar flash of anger. "I'm not interested in middle-aged jerk who think they're God's gift to women."

Nina's eyes flick over my face. "You're being too picky. You know, you're not exactly young anymore, and a man with stable finances-"

"Spare me," I snap. "Having a decent paycheck doesn't make him a decent human being. You, of all people, should know appearances mean nothing."

Her face twitches at that backhanded jab. "Fine," she says sweetly, "but keep in mind, you could do worse. At least he's not a total nobody."

I let out a harsh laugh. "He's beyond nobody-he's a smug creep who thinks I'm desperate. And if you're so eager, why not marry him yourself?"

Nina stiffens, and for a second, her mask cracks. "My business is none of yours," she hisses under her breath.

I step around her. "Exactly. Now get out of my way."

She doesn't pursue me further, but I can feel her glare on my back. I know what she's thinking. She wants me shackled to some mediocrity so that her own path stays open-especially if she's angling for Ian Whitmore or any other prestigious connection.

I wake up the next Monday morning, half-expecting more chaos to explode in my face. The first thing is April Carter turning up at my office around lunchtime, eyes red and puffy. She clutches a resignation letter to her chest, trembling so hard she can barely hold it out to me.

"I'm leaving," she chokes, voice wobbling.

I glance up and notice faint bruises on her neck and what looks like scratch marks near her collar. It's obvious somebody roughed her up, likely on Angela's orders. I don't bother pretending to sympathize.

"You already signed an NDA when you joined StarRiver Group," I remind her, flipping through the letter. "Anything that happened here-"

She cuts in, tears streaming. "I know, I won't say anything. Please, just let me go."

She looks so pitiful it's almost laughable. Once, she acted all high and mighty, throwing herself at Lawrence for power or money or both. Now she's just a terrified pawn being kicked off the board.

"Your final paycheck will be processed next week," I say coolly, handing back her letter. "Don't come back."

She sniffles, nods, and practically sprints out. I'm left feeling nothing-no pity, no regret. She chose this twisted game; she lost. End of story.

That same afternoon, I call Henry Lockwood into my office. He steps in, calm as ever, and I give him a quick rundown. "April's out. We need a new secretary."

He nods. "I've shortlisted a few candidates, but one stands out: Vincent Chadwick. Relatively new to the field, good at administrative work, no complicated ties-"

"Sounds perfect," I say, leaning back in my chair. "Set up a meeting."

Henry hesitates. "Are you sure about someone so inexperienced?"

I shrug. "He won't cause trouble if he's on a tight leash. And that's exactly what I need right now."

Henry nods in agreement. "I'll let him know."

Tuesday arrives, and with it comes a scheduled design presentation by Nina Sinclair. She's got this ridiculous entourage from the Design Department, led by some so-called design chief named Linda Finley. They settle into the conference room, flipping through slides of bland, recycled sketches.

I sit at the head of the table, tapping my pen against my notebook. "That's it?" I say when Nina finishes her pitch. "It looks like you took a bunch of random 'trendy' pieces and cobbled them together. Where's the identity? Where's the brand uniqueness?"

Nina flushes. "We're trying to integrate multiple influences-"

"Cut the crap," I interrupt. "StarRiver Group needs its own voice. What I see is a halfhearted patchwork of mainstream knockoffs. This isn't going to fly."

Linda Finley lets out a derisive snort. "You're the chairman, right? Maybe you can enlighten us with your brilliant creative ideas."

I fix her with a glare. "Be careful what you wish for, Linda. Starting today, I'm taking direct oversight of the Design Department. Every design concept goes through me."

A ripple of shock spreads across the table. Nina's eyes widen, and Linda clamps her mouth shut. I push my chair back, standing up. "If you want to keep your job, step up your game. I'm not here to babysit lazy copycats."

As I turn to leave, Nina blurts, "Wait, Serena-there's a reason Dad recommended me to manage this department. I'm-"

I hold up a hand. "Actually, Nina, I have an announcement. Since you've already been so involved in StarRiver Group's operations, I'm promoting you. Effective immediately, you're the new general manager of the entire company."

Her jaw drops. Everyone around the table gasps. One or two manage half-hearted claps, clearly confused. Nina's eyes dart between me and the others. "You... what?"

I flash her a sweet smile. "Consider it Father's will, right? He's always praising your competence. Now you can prove it." I step closer, pat her shoulder gently. "I'm sure you'll do a great job."

She looks stunned, unsure whether to feel flattered or trapped. The room buzzes with whispering. I walk out, letting the heavy conference room door slam behind me.

Back in my office, I barely have time to sit down before the phone rings. I snatch it up, already suspecting who it might be.

"Serena." My father's voice practically vibrates with fury. "What the hell are you doing promoting Nina to GM? You think this is some kind of joke?"

I lean back in my chair, twirling a pen between my fingers. "Isn't that what you wanted? She's your prized protégé. I'm just honoring your efforts. This is StarRiver Group, after all. You and Nina have been involved for years. Why not let her run it?"

He hisses through the receiver. "Don't act coy. You know exactly what you're doing."