Chapter 301

Serena's POV

I held Milo and Stella's small hand tightly as we approached the gray, imposing building. The detention center looked just as cold and unwelcoming as I remembered from my previous visits.

"Are you okay, Mommy?" Stella looked up at me with those deep gray eyes that reminded me so painfully of Lucas.

I forced a smile, bending down to straighten her jacket collar. "I'm fine, sweetie. We won't be long, I promise."

I hadn't wanted to come. The prosecuting attorney had called multiple times, always with the same message: Nina wanted to see me, saying she would only cooperate with their investigation if I agreed to meet with her. I'd refused repeatedly, determined to keep my distance and protect the new life I was building with Milo.

But they kept calling. And the shadow of the past kept stretching longer.

"Let's finish this," I whispered, as we neared the entrance.

We were about twenty feet from the entrance when the glass doors swung open, and three all-too-familiar figures emerged. My stomach knotted instantly. Lawrence Sinclair-his face like a thundercloud. Behind him, Angela, her expression a practiced mask of concern that never reached her eyes. And trailing them both, my half-brother Oliver Sinclair, looking every bit as entitled and angry as always.

I froze, instinctively pulling Milo and Stella closer to my side. I could have turned around, avoided this confrontation entirely. But something in me refused to retreat.

Lawrence spotted me immediately, his expression darkening further.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, striding toward me with Angela and Oliver following in his wake.

I straightened my shoulders but said nothing, focusing on keeping my expression neutral. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me react.

"What's the matter?" he sneered, gesturing toward the building behind him. "Come to enjoy Nina's downfall? To see the spectacle?"

The bitterness in his voice just confirmed everything I already knew about him.

"Nina deserves exactly what she's getting," he continued, his voice rising. "She actually joined forces with the Thorne family to steal control of Sinclair! My own daughter! After everything I did for her!"

Something inside me snapped. "And you think that makes you look good?" I asked coldly. "Your daughter is sitting in a detention center, facing serious charges, and you're out here celebrating her downfall. Father of the year, aren't you?"

Lawrence's face flushed red. "Nina and I severed our relationship long ago. Everyone knows we had a falling out. Her disgrace has nothing to do with me."

I couldn't help the cold laugh that escaped me.

His eyes narrowed dangerously. "I raised two ungrateful daughters-both of you determined to ruin me!"

"Are you sure it's just the two of us?" I challenged, meeting his gaze. "Maybe the problem isn't your daughters. Maybe it's you."

Oliver stepped forward then, his face contorted with rage. "You think I'm like you and Nina? Those pathetic, clingy daddy's girls?" He jabbed a finger toward me. "I'm his son. His only son! You're just daughters-cheap goods meant to be married off. You were never going to carry on the Sinclair name anyway! But me? I'm the Sinclair legacy. My children will bear our name. I am the roots of this family!"

I almost wanted to laugh at his outburst-the perfect distillation of everything wrong with the values my father had instilled in this family. But beneath my contempt, I felt a flicker of pity. Oliver was as much a product of Lawrence's toxic parenting as Nina and I were. The difference was that I'd escaped it.

"Fine," I said simply, too tired to argue further. "Have it your way."

I guided kids past them, heading toward the entrance.

"Serena!" Lawrence's voice stopped me in my tracks. I didn't turn around, but I paused, waiting.

"Go talk to Nina," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for discussion. "Convince her to hand over the Sinclair shares."

I stood frozen, disbelief and rage bubbling beneath my calm exterior. How dare he? After everything that had happened today, he had the audacity to ask me to do his dirty work?

The fury inside me rose like a tide. I might not have any sisterly affection for Nina, but as a human being with dignity, I couldn't accept his callous attitude. What right did he have to demand shares that Nina had sacrificed her self-respect to obtain? And what made him think I would ever help him take them?

"Mr. Sinclair," I said coolly, deliberately using the formal address.

I sensed rather than saw his face darken at my words. I turned slowly to face him, my posture straight and unyielding. "You just announced that Nina has severed all father-daughter ties with you. What gives you the right to demand she surrender her Sinclair shares?!"

Lawrence's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching as he responded with misplaced conviction. "Those shares belong to me!"

A bitter laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it. "If they were truly yours, they wouldn't be in Nina's possession now, would they?" I took a step closer, my voice dropping to a contemptuous whisper. "At your age, you should know better than to be so shameless!"

The words hit their mark. Lawrence's face contorted with rage, his hand shooting up as he moved to strike me.

I didn't flinch. I'd seen this coming from a mile away. This was the real Lawrence Sinclair-a man who resorted to violence when his authority was challenged.

Before his hand could make contact, two small figures darted between us. Milo stood protectively in front of me, his small body a shield, while Stella grabbed my hand tightly.

"Don't you dare hit my mommy!" Milo shouted, his voice trembling with both fear and determination.

Stella's eyes flashed with a fierceness that belied her tender age. "We won't let you hurt her!"

My heart swelled with a love so powerful. I placed a gentle hand on Milo's shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. "It's okay, sweethearts," I said softly. "He won't hurt Mommy."

And I was right. Lawrence lowered his hand, his face a storm of thwarted rage. He knew better than to create a scene here, in public, with witnesses.

"My greatest regret in life," he snarled, "was raising two ungrateful daughters like you and Nina!"

I met his gaze evenly, unmoved by his declaration. "You'll have even greater regrets coming your way."

Taking Milo and Stella by the hands, I walked past Lawrence, my head held high. As we brushed by him, I paused just long enough to deliver a final warning: "You'll reap what you've sown, Lawrence. That day is coming."