Chapter 224

Serena's POV

I watched Lucas and Atticus square off like two apex predators. Lucas's grip on my wrist tightened.

"You call this protecting her?" Lucas's voice carried that fury edge that could cut through air tension. I caught the slight twitch in Atticus's otherwise perfectly maintained composure.

"If it was protection, she wouldn't be at this circus," Lucas continued, his usual restraint giving way to raw anger.

"This isn't about Atticus," I cut in, my voice sharp. "I'm here because I choose to be."

"Serena..." His tone carried a hint of surprise, clearly not expecting me to speak up for Atticus.

I lifted my chin, channeling every ounce of steel in my voice. "This is a business partnership with clear ROI. Nothing more. I'm here because it's good for StarRiver's market position. Now let go."

I tried to pull away, but his grip was unyielding. I feel a bit angry - no one can control me.

"We're leaving for Manhattan. Now." His tone was dominant - brooking no negotiation, dismissing any counter-offer.

"Move," he ordered Atticus, his grey eyes cold as a Manhattan winter.

Atticus stood his ground, though I could see his resolve wavering. This situation angers me even more - I refuse to be manipulated by weak or angry men.

"I don't need your damn oversight!" I snapped, my terminal confidence showing. "If I want out, I'll call my own car!"

He ignored me completely, shouldering past Atticus, who hesitated before stepping aside.

Something in me snapped. Without thinking, I bent down and bit his hand. I felt him tense, saw the muscle in his jaw work, but his grip remained venture-capital firm. I bit harder, tasting copper, refusing to yield until-

"Lucas..." A soft voice cut through the tension.

I released my grip, noting the blood on his cuff. Rachel stood there, her gown a perfect complement to her practiced society smile, though it couldn't hide the pain in her eyes. "The family council's looking for you. I didn't expect to find you here."

I watched Lucas's throat work beneath his tie, but he offered nothing.

I watched as Rachel's eyes welled with tears, yet her breeding held. "If you're busy, I can explain to your grandfather," she said, her voice trembling. "But could you... could you please come back afterward? There are other matters tonight..." Her request was so humble, so desperate.

Even I felt a pang of sympathy for her. She looked utterly miserable. But Lucas could be this cold-blooded.

So cold-blooded that he seemed completely unmoved by her grief. He merely tossed out a few icy words: "I know."

He held my hand to slip away. We had just passed Rachel when a sharp voice rang out.

"Just where the hell do you think you're going?!"

The commanding tone made my blood run cold. I felt Lucas's hand tense around mine for a split second before he gripped it even tighter. I could see Howard Harrington being wheeled forward by the old butler, flanked by security in dark suits. His steely gaze locked first on Lucas, then dropped pointedly to our joined hands, his expression hardening.

"Damn it, Lucas, I've put up with enough tonight. Let her go. Now." Howard's voice carried that unmistakable authority that brooked no argument.

"I'm taking her home. I'll be back," Lucas stated firmly.

Howard's face reddened with fury. "Leaving a Thorne Foundation gala with Serena Sinclair? In front of the entire board? If she hadn't handled that auction situation earlier with such finesse, your little stunt tonight would've been all over media tomorrow! Lucas, I expected better from you."

I stood there, pulse racing, as Lucas shot back without hesitation: "Well, I guess expectations can't always be met."

That response hit like a thunderbolt. I watched Howard's complexion turn dangerously red, his breathing becoming labored. The butler stepped forward urgently. "Sir, your blood pressure. Dr. Morrison was very clear about the risk of another stroke. Please try to stay calm..."

I noticed Lucas's stance soften slightly, but his grip on my hand remained steady.

Butler turned to Lucas, his voice low and urgent: "Mr. Harrington, please. You know how fragile your grandfather's health. If something were to happen..."

"This won't take long," Lucas replied tersely.

Suddenly, Howard's voice rose sharply: "For God's sake, Lucas! Do you want to watch me die right here? Like you watched your parents' car go off that bridge? Is that what you want - to stand by while another family member dies?!"

Lucas was visibly struggling now, his color distressing. The weight of the moment crushed my chest as I made my decision, memories of my own mother's hospital room flashing through my mind. Lucas's tight grip on my hand slowly loosened. I pulled my hand free from his grip. I couldn't bear to be responsible for another family tragedy.

"I won't have a stroke on my conscience," I said coldly, even as my heart hammered against my ribs. I heard Lucas's knuckles crack as his fists clenched.

Without meeting his eyes, I turned to Atticus. "Would you mind calling my driver?"

When Atticus nodded, I knew I'd made the right call. I still wasn't sure why Lucas had been so desperate to get me away from the gala. But whatever the reason, I refused to be the cause of more family drama. There was no reason to stay.

As Atticus walked me toward the exit, I heard Howard's sharp command behind us: "Get back in there with Rachel. The entire board is waiting!"