(Serena)“Wait—” Haylee stares at me, glass frozen halfway to her lips. “He offered you how much?”I take a sip of my cocktail and give her a small, helpless shrug. “One billion. From his private holdings. Not Hale Enterprises. Not the family estate. Just… James’s personal wealth.”Her jaw drops open. “Holy fuck! I—Serena, that’s not a settlement. That’s an empire.”“I know. It’s a ridiculous amount I can’t even get my head around.”“That’s private island, gold bathtub, I-wipe-my-tears-with-Versace kind of money.”I smile despite myself.Haylee’s in oversized sweatpants and a crop top, hair piled on her head like a pineapple, legs tucked under her on the couch.Her eyes are wide and there’s none of the weird awkward vibe I felt the last time we spoke.Must have been the hangover.“You could do anything,” she says, eyes sparkling. “Anything you’ve ever dreamed. Open ten bakeries. Fund women’s shelters. Travel the world. Sponsor yourself a Formula 1 team. Hell, buy the team.”I laugh. “
(Serena)The law office is quiet.Neutral-toned furniture. Tempered glass doors.Everything meant to soothe you into forgetting you’re here to take apart something that once meant everything.I sit at the long conference table with my hands folded in my lap, trying to ignore the slow clench of anxiety in my stomach.Timothy, my lawyer, has papers spread neatly before him. His assistant pours water into glass tumblers. The seat across from me remains empty.“James isn’t coming?” I ask.“No,” Timothy says, adjusting his glasses. “He’s still in Geneva. But he’s sent his lead counsel, Eva Collins, to handle this preliminary meeting.”I nod once. Of course. Efficient. Distant. Predictable.The door opens, and Eva walks in and smiles at me. Tall. Crisp navy suit.Blonde hair pinned into a sleek chignon. She nods politely to Timothy, then takes her seat.“Thank you for coming, Ms. Langley,” she says. “Mr. Hale regrets not being here in person, but he wanted to begin the process as soon as po
(Serena)The next day, I get a call.It's early. The phone vibrates across the counter just as I’m checking the new staff schedule and finalizing supply numbers for both stores at my bakery office.I glance at the screen.Timothy Barnes. My lawyer.Ah, makes sense. Must be about the property. He’s been doing due diligence for me. Pending a proper clean-up from our little sprinkler disaster… I could move into the show home tomorrow.I swipe to answer. “Serena Langley.”“Ms. Langley, good morning.” His voice is even. “I’m calling regarding the Hale divorce proceedings.”I stop breathing.“Divorce proceedings?” I repeat. “But I thought you were calling about the property.”There’s a pause. “That’s not the purpose of this call, no. This is about your marriage dissolution. Were you aware?”“We’d… discussed it,” I manage. “But I didn’t expect him to move so fast.”Apparently, James Hale is a man of his word—especially when it’s about setting me free.“If it’s too sudden,” Timothy offers, “
(Serena)Ronan and I are both dried and in fresh clothes.We’ve called in take out.We take a walk around the property while waiting for delivery. He’s showing me the huge blocks I could buy and build on.“He doesn’t know any of that?” Ronan asks gently.“No. James has never known any of that.”“I’m not judging you,” he says. “But if James doesn’t know that part of you, the part that had to make that choice, carry it, and survive it… then he doesn’t really know you. Not all of you.”My stomach flips. Because it’s true. James knows the curated version.The woman with the big laugh and quick answers. He knows I get anxious in elevators and I eat chocolate frosting out of the tub at midnight when I can’t sleep—but he doesn’t know this.The part of me I’ve never let surface.“I didn’t think he needed to know,” I say. “I wanted to believe he and I could make it.”“That’s a lot of pressure you put on yourself and then the added pressure from the Hale faction. Did you ever stand a chance?”“
(Serena)The show home is beautiful.Sleek, modern, deceptively cozy. But clearly staged.Still, it’s charming. And he’s trying, I’ll give him that.He’s gone full domestic- cooking something. I’m perched at the island bench watching him wrangle dry pasta into boiling water.“You sure you’re not just trying to impress me?” I say, sipping my wine.He laughs. “I don’t need to impress you, Serena. You’re already on the hook for a potential property purchase.”“Not yet,” I say, winking.He grins, stirring the sauce. “Dinner’s ten minutes. Tops.”He gives the tea towel a flourish in the air and lets it go. It floats over behind him somewhere.“But I need some wine. If there’s any left?”I give a giggle. “Might be a glass.”He pours himself a glass and sits opposite me. “I’m not usually the cook. But I think we’ll survive it.”“I’m sure I’ve eaten worse.”Then I see it. Flames over his shoulder. “Ronan, shit!” I point.He moves around behind the bench fastT the towel has landed near the gas
(Serena)As I drive away from the mansion, my mind is spinning.I can't shake the feeling of dread that's settled in my bones.Margot's words echo in my head, each one a carefully crafted dagger aimed at my heart.I know she's trying to manipulate me, but that kernel of doubt she's planted is growing.I mean, let's face it, the woman has a point. James and I come from different worlds. I knew that from the start.But the idea that he could be just like his father, it's unnerving. Is it so hard to believe that James could be a chip off the old block? Is he going to eventually turn out the same?But even if he doesn’t, Margot will never change. We’ll never have a loving relationship.My kids with James would never have them as grandparents like they should be. I could never trust to leave them alone with Margot poisoning their minds.I can't deny that the Hales have influence.Their name opens doors and commands respect. But at what cost?Margot's willing to sacrifice her son's happines