Chapter ten: A slap in the face

Serena's POV 

“Lucas,” I whispered, fingers tightening around his. “Stop. Please.”

He didn’t even look at me when he answered. “I warned them. They poked anyway.”

Samuel scoffed. “This is a joke. She killed her own son, and you’re defending—”

The sound of Lucas’s chair scraping back echoed like a threat.

“Say that again,” he said quietly.

Everyone in the room froze.

Samuel swallowed but kept his chin high. “I said—”

Lucas slammed his palm against the table. Not hard enough to break anything. Just enough to make every man present jolt.

“Don’t.” His voice was low, lethal. “Not in front of her. Not in my company. Not ever again.”

Samuel’s face drained a shade. His eyes flicked to me, then to the security guards already stepping in.

“This isn’t over,” he muttered.

“It is,” Lucas said. “For you.”

Two guards took Samuel by the arms and led him out. The doors shut behind them with a thud that felt like a judge’s gavel.

Silence swallowed the room.

Every man stared at Lucas like he’d just flipped the entire stock market.

Lucas didn’t care. He simply sat back down, pulled my chair closer to his, and opened the file like nothing had happened.

“Now,” he said, calm as steady water. “Let’s begin.”

But I couldn't breathe. The room felt too bright. Too sharp. Too full of eyes pretending they weren’t imagining headlines.

Lucas reached under the table again and squeezed my hand.

“Don’t listen to any of that,” he murmured, low enough that only I heard him. “He wanted a reaction. He didn’t get to have one.”

My voice wobbled. “Lucas, you didn’t have to fire him.”

“Yes,” he said simply. “I did.”

“But because of me—”

“Not because of you. Because of how he talked about you.”

I blinked fast, trying to keep the tears from surfacing. “Still. I don’t want to be the reason things blow up.”

“You’re not the reason,” he said. “They are.”

The meeting dragged on for what felt like hours. Charts. Projections. A lot of men shifting in their seats, pretending not to watch me like I was a scandal waiting to burst open.

But Lucas kept checking in.

A glance every five minutes. A brush of fingertips. Quiet grounding, barely noticeable to anyone else.

When it finally ended and the room emptied, he didn’t move right away.

He just sat there, hands clasped, staring at the door Samuel had been dragged through.

“You okay?” he asked without looking at me.

I nodded. “Are you?”

He huffed a humorless breath. “I don’t like when people talk about you like you’re an incident.”

For some reason, that hit harder than anything said in the meeting.

“Lucas,” I whispered, “I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

He finally met my eyes. “You didn’t cause it. They caused it by assuming you’re an easy target.”

He rose from the chair and extended his hand to me.

“Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s get you some air.”

His palm was warm. Steady. An anchor.

I took it. I didn’t trust my legs, but I trusted him. And that was something I never thought I’d feel again.

Not after everything, not after losing Liam.

But as he led me out of that conference room, fingers laced with mine, I felt something I hadn’t felt in months. A break.

Until a face appeared before me.

Ethan Garnett.

He stood still where he stood, same as I did.

"Serena," Lucas called, forcing me to look at his face.

"Look at me, we had a deal okay? You cannot let him see or let him feel like he has the upper hand, if anything, he should be the guilty one, I don't know what he's here for but, I need you to—" He said and I nodded, a taut smile on my face.

"Dearest brother..." Ethan's muttered, stepping closer.

"You know very well I'm not your brother, Ethan Garnett, we might have been birthed by the same father, not a fucking mother," Lucas said, holding my hands in his.

"We'll sort that out later, why do you have this murderer with you?" Ethan didn't get to say anything else when Lucas threw a punch to his face, cracking his bones sideways.

"Before I ask you what you're here for in my company, take that,"

Ethan staggered back, clutching his jaw like he couldn’t comprehend what just happened. His hand came away red at the knuckles, not his blood but Lucas’s.

“You’re insane,” Ethan hissed, voice warped with pain.

“No,” Lucas said, stepping in front of me so smoothly it looked rehearsed. “I’m done listening to you spit venom at a woman who lost everything while you walked around playing righteous.”

Ethan glared at me over Lucas’s shoulder, eyes sharp enough to slice. “She should be in handcuffs, Lucas. Not strolling around like she’s innocent.”

I flinched.

Lucas didn’t let me shrink. He tugged me just a little closer, like he was daring Ethan to try and touch me.

“You don’t get to talk about innocence,” Lucas said. “Not when you’ve got more skeletons than a damn cemetery.”

Ethan’s jaw twitched. “Where is she even living? With you? You think you’re some kind of hero?”

Lucas gave a cold laugh. “No. Just someone who doesn’t abandon people when they’re drowning.”

The hallway fell to a tense, humming silence.

Ethan’s gaze cut back to me, harsher than anything Samuel had said earlier. “Serena… you killed Liam. I don’t know how Lucas expects people to pretend that didn’t happen.”

His words hit like a slap. My whole body went cold.

Lucas stiffened instantly.

“Say his name one more time,” Lucas said, voice like frostbite. “And you’ll wake up in a hospital bed wondering why you can only move one eye.”

Ethan scoffed, trying to pretend he wasn’t slowly backing up. “I came for the architectural files. Father needs them before—”

“No.” Lucas stepped forward. “You came to check if she’s broken. You came to gloat. You came to see if your bullshit guilt-tripping still works.”

Ethan’s mouth tightened.