Chapter 3

Serena's POV

He crosses the room with smooth, steady steps and gently sets me down on the bed. Every muscle in his arms felt real, not like those scrawny guys I've met at parties. He's got a quiet strength that rattles me.

A furious voice snaps at us from the doorway. "What the hell are you doing?"

I know that voice. Ian Whitmore. My fiancé—or what was supposed to be my fiancé before everything went wrong.

My heart twists. I look at Ian. He's glaring at me like I've committed some crime. Lucas doesn't say a word, doesn't even look at Ian. He just finishes placing me on the bed and takes a step back. Ian storms over, face contorted with anger.

"Serena Sinclair!" he practically shouts. "I always knew you'd never change!"

I stared at Ian coldly, my heart filled with icy disappointment. That face that once made my heart skip a beat now only evoked feelings of unfamiliarity and disgust.

Yesterday, he had abandoned me without a second thought. Despite the crushing heartbreak, our three years together might have earned him the chance to explain—though forgiveness was another matter entirely. In that raging shot, he'd chosen Nina, leaving me alone in a inferno.

But now, facing his baseless accusations and public humiliation, I trembled with rage. My fingers dug into my palms, nails nearly breaking skin as I fought to maintain composure.

When Ian didn't get an answer from me, he turned to examine the man standing silently beside my hospital bed. His gaze traveled from top to bottom, taking in Lucas's impressive height and commanding presence. I saw the moment of recognition flash across his face.

Ian's expression shifted, something jealous flickered in Ian's eyes.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. "Ian, let's break up."

The words hung in the air between us. Three years of deep affection, ending in this sterile room. As I spoke, something in my chest seemed to shatter, but strangely, it wasn't as painful as I'd imagined. It felt almost... liberating.

Ian's face contorted as if I'd physically struck him. He stared at me in shock, unable to believe what he'd just heard.

"Serena, who do you think he is?" he shouted, jabbing a finger toward Lucas. "He's just a cop! You're actually breaking up with me for him?! Have you lost your mind?"

His voice was hoarse with fury, his face flushed crimson. Disbelief and rage burned in his eyes.

Lucas remained silent beside me, but I sensed his slight movement. His eyes flashed with contempt and coldness, but he chose not to speak. His body leaned forward almost imperceptibly, ready to intervene if necessary.

"Why we're breaking up?" I said, my voice icy with barely controlled anger. "Shouldn't you know perfectly well? The moment you chose to save Nina yesterday, wasn't everything clear? Ian, stop treating me like a fool!"

My voice trembled, not from fear but from the anger and hurt churning inside me, threatening to break through my carefully constructed composure.

Ian froze, his indignation suddenly arrested. He stood speechless for a long moment, his expression a complex tangle of emotions, before finally relaxing as if some burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

He sighed heavily. "Perhaps we should never have been together from the start. Serena, you're too independent, too strong-willed. During our relationship, I always felt... dispensable, even pressured. You don't actually need me."

His voice grew quieter, his gaze shifting away as if trying to justify himself.

Looking at Ian, I suddenly laughed—the kind of laugh that comes when pain numbs everything else.

Memories flooded back: our meeting overseas when I was performing as a street artist, how charmingly cultured he'd seemed then; how he'd known about my troubled past but said he only cared about our future; how I'd returned with him to America during the Whitmore family crisis, spending two relentless years helping him rebuild his family's reputation.

My independence and strength—qualities that had saved his family—were now my failings? This was my reward for giving him my whole heart?

"Ian, you ungrateful bastard," I spat, my voice trembling with rage. "Aren't you afraid I'll leave and take the company's top talent with me? Aren't you afraid I'll go to the media and expose your affair?"

The words hit their mark. Ian's eyes immediately reddened, his facade cracking at the threat to his public image. His face contorted with fury as he lost all control. He lunged forward, reaching for my shoulders. "Serena, listen to me!"

I instinctively shrank back, a flash of fear crossing my face.

"Get your dirty hands off her," Lucas's voice cut through the air like ice, the sudden warning filled with such intimidating authority that Ian froze mid-motion.

Ian's head snapped toward Lucas, his face flushing an even deeper red with humiliation. "This is between us! You have no right to interfere!"

Ignoring the warning, Ian reached for me again, his movements fueled by wounded pride.

In one fluid motion, Lucas stepped between us. His hand shot out, gripping Ian's wrist with such force that Ian gasped in pain.

"I said, don't touch her," Lucas repeated, his voice dangerously low. "Assaulting an injured patient in a hospital? Are you trying to get arrested?"

Ian struggled to counter-attack, but Lucas's strength and technique far exceeded his expectations.

"Calm down," Lucas's voice was low and dangerous, "or I'd be happy to help you cool off."

I watched Lucas, noting his composed demeanor that somehow contained an unmistakable authority. The sunlight streaming through the blinds cast alternating bands of light across his determined face.

Lucas released his grip, and Ian stumbled back, adjusting his rumpled shirt cuffs with a face full of defeat and fury.

"You'll regret this, Serena," Ian said through clenched teeth. "You'll realize that without me, you're nothing!"

He turned to Lucas, his eyes flashing with malice. "And you—don't think wearing a uniform makes you special. I'll make you understand what happens when you mess with the Whitmore family."

"Ian," I said coldly, "stop wasting both our time. From today onward, we owe each other nothing."

Lucas stood beside me, his posture relaxed but his gaze vigilant, ready to intervene again if necessary.

Ian turned away angrily, throwing back one last threat before leaving: "You'll regret this, Serena. Both you and this cop will regret this."

He slammed the door behind him, leaving the room suddenly, terrifyingly quiet.

I breathe out, the tension leaving my body. I look at Lucas. “Thanks for helping me earlier,” I say quietly. “And… thanks for that too.” I gesture vaguely to the door, meaning the subtle way he stood by me. “I’m really tired. I just want some time alone.”

Lucas nods, his face expressionless. Before leaving, he places a box of tissues on my bedside table. “A man who feels pressure being with a strong woman isn’t good enough,” he says, his voice low and firm. “That’s on him, not on you.”

I froze. This man seemed to give me a different feeling.