Chapter 200

Eleanor's POV

I watched in horror as he threw Maya against the peeling wallpaper of the motel. The thud made my stomach lurch as she crumpled to the floor, her uniform still on from her shift. "Get out of here, baby," she gasped, her voice barely a whisper.

My hands shook as I faced him, his eyes wild with the desperate look. His fingers dug into my arm through my blazer. "You're coming with me to see my guy in Joey's club. Bitch like you can cover what I owe."

"Let go, I have the cash-" Before I could finish, a familiar voice cut through the stale air of the hallway.

"Take your hands off her!" Drew's voice boomed down the corridor.

My heart jumped - I thought he'd left after dropping me off. Looking back, I saw him standing there, his face pure fury.

Tom sneered, still gripping my arm. "Back off, trust fund boy-"

The crack of Drew's leather shoe connecting with Tom's stomach cut him off mid-sentence. As Tom stumbled backward, Drew pulled me behind him. He give me a reassuring look.

Next second, Drew's fist connected with Tom's jaw, sending him sprawling. Years of meth had left Tom a shell of the man. Now he just curled up on the stained carpet, whimpering, "Jesus Christ, stop, please..."

Part of me wanted Drew to continue, to make him pay for Maya. But reality hit hard - assault charges, Helm Media headlines about the Yeager heir in a street fight. "Stop," I caught Drew's wrist. "That's enough."

Drew stepped back, his chest heaving. Tom took several minutes to pull himself up using the wall for support.

I threw the envelope at him. "Here's your thirty grand. Come near us again, and I'm not calling the NYPD - I'm calling the DEA."

Maya's voice cracked from where she still sat by the radiator. "Where did you get that kind of money? Eleanor, don't - you need that for yourself..."

Tom clutched the envelope, thumbing through the bills with shaking hands. He limped toward the stairwell, muttering about staying uptown from now on.

When his footsteps faded, Drew turned to me, his voice tight. "You got that money for him? What's his deal?"

I told him everything. "Christ," Drew ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "Should've hit him harder."

"And trade your penthouse for jail?" I shot back, though my voice softened seeing the genuine worry in his eyes.

"He'll be back," Drew's jaw clenched. "Guys like that always come back when they need a fix. Next time..." He trailed off, and I saw real fear flash across his face.

"I'm handling this," he declared. "Tomorrow, we're getting you both out of here. I've got a place in Tribeca-"

"Drew." I studied his face, watching him shift uncomfortably.

"Not to live together," he quickly added. "For you and Maya. This neighborhood... Just pack tonight. I'll look at some options in my portfolio."

"Nothing flashy," I said quietly. "We need to stay under the radar."

His serious expression cracked into a smile. "Got it." He pulled out his iPhone, already texting his property manager as he headed for the stairs.

I looked back at Maya, still huddled by the rusty radiator. "Need to hit the ER?"

"Just bruises," she quickly refused, smoothing her crumpled uniform.

I didn't push. The truth was, I couldn't fully bridge the gap between us.

"Eleanor, that young man..." she ventured cautiously.

"A friend," I cut her off, not ready to explain. "Let's pack before Tom changes his mind about staying uptown."

Serena's POV

Eight AM sharp when Quinn and I pull up to the courthouse. Today's the hearing that will decide everything.

The case has been blowing up on X and Instagram for the past three days. This morning, I made the mistake of checking - half of the trending topics on X are about me. Our Town Car stops at the courthouse steps, and I can see the media circus already in full swing. Quinn glances at me, his PR training evident in his measured tone. "Want me to run interference?"

"I've got this," I say, straightening my blazer.

Quinn just nods. The moment we step out, it's like sharks smelling blood in the water. The press corps surges forward, CNN and Fox News microphones thrust in my face. Quinn tries to create a buffer, but they've got us surrounded.

"Miss Sinclair, your thoughts on today's proceedings?"

"Legal experts are predicting potential federal charges. Care to comment?"

"Your career at StarRiver - any regrets about how things played out?"

"You were notably absent from the StarRiver Foundation Gala. Sources say Lawrence Sinclair has officially written you out of the family trust. Can you confirm?"

"How are you handling the family's public denouncement?"

I channel my composure, projecting my voice with the authority. "The judicial process will take its course. I have full faith in the American justice system, and I'll respect whatever verdict is reached."

When they push for more, I cut it clean: "As for the Sinclair family's decisions, they're entitled to manage their affairs as they see fit. I accept that."

The press pack starts shifting - Nina's Mercedes has pulled up. She's wearing smart professional outfit, playing to the cameras. I watch as they swarm her instead: "Miss Sinclair, your father's statement was pretty clear about Serena's status. Why show up today?"

"Helm Media says you're here for the schadenfreude. Care to comment?"

Nina brings out her practiced Ivy League sympathy: "Family is family, no matter what. Despite everything that's happened with the company and the board, she's still my sister. I'm just hoping for the best possible outcome today."

Then Lucas's Bentley arrives with Rachel Thorne, and the media pivots hard. I catch snippets about their merger announcement and Thorne Enterprises' new Manhattan headquarters before stepping into the courthouse.

Inside, the scene is set: Lucas and Rachel in their power suits up front, Jace beside Lucas, while Spencer from Sherwood Group and Drew sit across the aisle. Everyone who from the Manhattan elite is here to watch the show.