Chapter 31

Serena's POV

I roll my eyes. "Why would I do that? Maybe if you didn't jump to conclusions and judge people by their looks, you wouldn't be in this mess."

Ian's face contorts with anger. He looks ready to lash out or say something truly vile, but the crowd behind him is still buzzing, and he must sense that starting a full-blown argument now would only drag him deeper. With a final glare, he storms off, probably going to lick his wounds in private.

I watch Ian storm off, shoulders tense and fists clenched. His humiliation is almost tangible, but he won't dare explode again in front of so many people. I stand there for a moment, exhaling slowly, letting the last echoes of anger slip away. The night already feels too charged, too full of unexpected twists.

Just when I'm debating whether I should slip out of this place before more drama erupts, a man wearing a perfectly tailored suit hurries over. He's got short, neatly combed hair and the kind of polished demeanor that screams "professional." I've seen him a couple of times hovering around Lucas.

"Excuse me, Ms. Sinclair?" he says, his voice polite but urgent. "I'm Miles. Mr. Harrington's assistant. He asked me to pass along a message-he'd prefer if you didn't leave just yet."

My heart does a little flip at the mention of Lucas's name. After everything that happened tonight, he can't be done with me just yet? I clear my throat. "Uh, why?"

Miles offers a tight smile. "He'd like to speak with you when he's finished handling a few matters. If you could wait for him... I'd really appreciate it."

For a split second, I'm tempted to brush him off and leave. I'm beyond tired of everyone's judgmental stares and the tension that's been building all night. But before I can decide, Miles steps back into the crowd and disappears as swiftly as he arrived.

I'm still mulling over my next move when I spot Milo and Stella weaving through the guests, coming straight at me. They look excited-and a little relieved-to find me standing here. Stella's eyes shine as she grabs my hand, while Milo's grin spreads across his face like he's up to something.

"Mommy!" Stella calls out, tugging on my sleeve. "You're not leaving, right?"

Milo nods, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "We still want you to take us to the garden. They have a huge swing set out there!"

Something in me softens. It's impossible to say no to these two. I sigh and force a small smile. "Okay, I'll stay for a little bit."

They both cheer like it's the best news they've heard all night. I let them lead me toward the double doors that open onto the grand estate gardens. The air outside smells of flowers and night dew, and just for a moment, I feel like I can finally breathe again.

But the moment we approach the marble staircase leading down into the gardens, a waiter carrying a tray of wine and champagne nearly crashes right into us. His eyes are wide, and he's stumbling like someone tripped him on purpose. Instinct jolts me-I yank Milo and Stella out of the way, but not fast enough to avoid the spray of red wine sloshing onto my dress. My body goes rigid, the wet cold seeping through the delicate fabric.

The waiter practically falls over himself apologizing. "I'm so sorry! I-I lost my footing-"

Behind him, I spot Nina Sinclair and Evelyn Whitmore standing to the side with smug little smirks. They're exchanging looks like they just pulled off some elaborate prank. My stomach twists. It doesn't take a genius to see who orchestrated this.

Evelyn steps forward, fake sympathy coating her words. "Oh, Serena, dear, you look like you've taken quite a spill. That's such an expensive dress too." She glances at my wine-stained gown, her lips curving into a nasty smile. "It's a pity it got ruined."

I grip Stella's hand a bit tighter, forcing myself to remain calm. I can feel anger simmering in my chest, but I do my best to hold it in check. "Accidents happen," I say with a shrug, though my voice trembles with barely contained rage. "Nothing a good dry cleaner can't handle."

"Oh, but that fabric's so delicate," Evelyn coos, still pretending to be oh-so concerned. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather just go home and change? I'm sure it's more comfortable than sticking around likethat."

Behind her sweet tone, I can hear the unspoken message loud and clear: Leave. You're not wanted here. I square my shoulders, refusing to budge. "I'll manage."

Evelyn scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Suit yourself." She flicks her hair over her shoulder as she spins around. The grand sweep of her gown trails behind her-until Milo's foot just "happens" to land squarely on the edge of the skirt. There's a loud rip, and Evelyn stumbles with a startled yelp.

The entire room seems to freeze. Evelyn whips around, her face twisted in shock. Part of her gown is torn, exposing the pricey underlayer beneath. The look on her face is priceless: absolute horror. There's a scattered gasp from nearby onlookers.

Milo blinks innocently, looking up at her with big eyes. "Oh no, I'm sorry," he says, voice trembling with a mocking sweetness that makes me want to laugh out loud. "You won't be mad at a kid, right?"

Evelyn's mouth opens and closes, but no sound comes out. She is livid, practically shaking with humiliation. Within seconds, Daniel and Grace Whitmore rush over to drape a jacket around Evelyn's shoulders, trying to salvage her dignity. Her voice cracks in hysterical rage. "I-I need to leave," she hisses.

They hustle her away, ignoring everyone's gawking. And the entire time, Milo watches them go with a triumphant smirk, one that matches the defiant gleam in Stella's eyes.

I'm about to respond when a magnetic, deep voice cuts through the air. "What's going on here?"

I glance up to see Lucas striding toward us, his tall frame moving with a quiet power that sends goosebumps down my arms. Before I can say anything, he's at my side, sliding his hand under my elbow and guiding me away from prying eyes. His dark suit fits his muscular frame perfectly, and this close, his presence is overwhelming.

He glances at my soaked dress, his handsome face tightening with concern. "Are you okay?" he asks in a deep, low voice that makes my heart skip. Without waiting for my answer, he shrugs off his own jacket and drapes it over my shoulders. The warmth of the fabric and the faint scent of his cologne wrap around me like a protective cocoon.

I swallow, wondering how many shocked eyes are locked on us right now. "I'm fine," I manage, even though my chest is still pounding with anger and adrenaline. "It's just some spilled wine."

Milo pipes up, voice loud and clear, "Daddy, Evelyn tripped that waiter on purpose. We saw her stick out her foot."

Stella nods eagerly. "She wanted to ruin Serena's dress."

Lucas's gaze hardens, his jaw setting in a grim line. "I appreciate you two telling me," he says quietly to them. Then he turns to me, voice gentler. "I'll handle this."