Chapter 83

Serena's POV

The silence that followed was deafening. I could see Angela wanting to protest, but the red mark on her cheek kept her quiet.

They filed out of my office like defeated soldiers. As the door closed behind them, I allowed myself a moment of quiet triumph.

The morning sun had climbed higher, warming the leather of my chair. Somewhere in heaven, Mother must be watching. All those years of sacrifice, all those shares she'd worked so hard to accumulate - they were finally back where they belonged.

Ian's POV

The boardroom still held traces of the morning's tension - stale coffee and cigarette smoke lingering in the air like accusations. I sat alone at the table, watching another notification flash across my phone screen. Stock prices. Down. Again.

"Useless!" Father's words from minutes ago still rang in my ears. "One week, and you can't even contain a simple scandal? Is this how you plan to run Whitmore Industries into the ground?"

I clenched my jaw, remembering my clipped response. "I'll handle it today."

"You'd better." His final warning had carried the weight of generations of Whitmore expectations. "Don't make me regret choosing you as my successor."

Now, in the empty boardroom, I pulled up the week's headlines on my tablet. Each one felt like a personal assault:

*"Whitmore Heir and Sinclair Heiress: Secret Affair Exposed"*

*"Serena Sinclair's Tears: 'He Betrayed My Trust'"*

*"Whitmore-Sinclair Merger in Jeopardy?"*

My fingers tightened around the device. Lucas Harrington. It had to be him pulling strings behind the scenes. The thought of him with Serena made my blood boil.

Making my way to my private office, I settled into the leather chair and opened my phone's encrypted folder. The photos were still there - Harrington with Eleanor at the charity gala last month. Their body language suggesting intimacy, her hand lingering on his arm. Circumstantial, but in the right context...

I gave Evelyn a call.

"Brother?" Evelyn's voice dripped with annoyance. "I'm getting ready for the fashion gala tonight. What's so urgent?"

"Is Eleanor still the closing act?"

"Why do you care about that social climber?" A pause. "Wait... Ian, what are you planning?"

"Yes or no, Evelyn."

She sighed dramatically. "Yes, she's closing. But you should focus on fixing things with Nina instead of-"

"Worry about your own problems." I ended the call, a cold smile forming as I studied the photos again.

The pieces were falling into place. By tomorrow morning, the city's attention would shift to a much juicier scandal. Harrington's perfect reputation would take the hit this time, and Serena... she'd see him for what he really was.

Evelyn's POV

Chaos reigned in the backstage area of Le Grand Fashion Gala. Makeup artists rushed between stations, stylists frantically steamed designer gowns, and PR teams barked into headsets. I stood in my corner, watching it all through the mirror while my makeup artist added final touches.

The moment the makeup artist left, I scrutinized myself in the mirror. Perfect. The champagne-colored Valentino gown hugged my curves exactly as it should, and my freshly styled hair cascaded over one shoulder in elegant waves. I looked every bit the star I was meant to be.

"Miss Whitmore, we need to start the rehearsal in twenty minutes." My manager's voice grated on my nerves.

"I need some air," I snapped, not bothering to look at her. My thoughts were consumed by one thing only - Jace would be at tonight's ceremony. He'd been avoiding my calls for weeks would finally be within reach.

I heard Eleanor Yates was also attending. Of course she was - that woman seemed to appear everywhere lately, stealing roles that should have been mine. My fingers clenched involuntarily at the thought.

The corridor was mercifully empty as I made my way toward the VIP area. My Louboutins clicked against the floor. I knew exactly which room was his - I'd made it my business to know.

Outside his door, I paused to check my reflection in my phone camera. A slight adjustment to my lipstick, a strategic loosening of a curl - everything had to be perfect. I could already picture his expression when he saw me.

Without knocking, I pushed open the door. The sight that greeted me made my breath catch - Jace stood by the window, shirtless, his sculpted torso catching the late afternoon light. He turned sharply at my entrance, surprise quickly morphing into annoyance.

"Oh!" I covered my mouth in feigned shock, though my eyes lingered appreciatively. "I'm so sorry, I should have knocked."

"You should leave," he said flatly, reaching for his shirt.

I took a step forward, deliberately catching my heel in my dress. As I stumbled, he reflexively moved to catch me - exactly as I'd planned. My hands pressed against his bare chest as I steadied myself.

"My hero," I breathed, looking up at him through my lashes. "I just wanted to thank you properly for that day you directed for me..."

The door opened again. Eleanor stood in the doorway, holding a bow tie. Her eyes took in the scene - my hands still on Jace's chest, his state of undress.

"Don't let me interrupt," she said coolly, placing the tie on a nearby table before turning to leave.

The muscles under my fingers tensed. "Eleanor, wait-" Jace called after her, but she was already gone. The tenderness in his voice when he said her name made my blood boil.

"What's going on between you and her?" I demanded, dropping all pretense. "Why was she bringing you your tie?"

Jace stepped back, putting deliberate distance between us. "Miss Whitmore, if there's nothing urgent, I need to change."

"I could help with that," I offered, letting my voice drop to a suggestive whisper. "I'm not looking for anything serious. Just... mutually beneficial arrangements."

His expression hardened. "Leave. Now. Unless you want everyone to know about your... interesting proposition."

Humiliation burned through me as I backed toward the door. But beneath the shame, determination crystallized. If he thought this was over, he was wrong. Nobody rejected me - especially not for Eleanor Yates.

"This isn't finished," I muttered as I pulled the door shut behind me.