Chapter 4

Serena’s POV

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.

Lucas’s POV

Yesterday was a nightmare I can’t shake off. I still can’t believe a homeless guy went on such a random rampage. We’re still digging into it, but so far, it looks like no personal vendetta, just pure madness.

After the shots rang out, I rushed to the wedding venue. My heart was pounding, every step fueled by adrenaline. When I saw her—Serena—in that white wedding dress, lying there so vulnerable, it hit me hard. She looked like a flower that had been crushed and was about to wilt. I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing.

I ran to her, my mind racing. “Stay with me,” I shouted, kneeling beside her. She was barely conscious, her breaths shallow. I felt a surge of protectiveness I’ve never felt before. I pulled her into my arms, trying to keep her stable until help arrived.

In the hospital, I listened to everything that happened. The screams, the panic, how Ian chose Nina over her. It was clear Serena was hurt not just physically but emotionally too. It sparked something in me, an urge to protect her that I can’t fully explain.

Curiosity got the better of me. I started digging into her background. Turns out, she’s a powerhouse. She and Ian were building something big together, working day and night. She’s driven, fierce, everything you’d expect from a top executive. The contrast between her current state and her usual dominance is stark. It makes me even more interested in her. There’s something about her resilience and vulnerability that I can’t ignore.

Additionally, I'm pleased that my children are very fond of her, which surprises me. The connection between them seems unbroken by time. Thanks God, this problem that worried me most has been solved effortlessly.

I think that, including her conversations with her fiancé, she directly announced the breakup to him without leaving any room for doubt. I admire her decisiveness. I feel that I need to confront my feelings for her, take action, and let her my feeling.

I pulled out my phone and dialed. "Walter?"

"Sir." His response was prompt and respectful, as always.

"Starting today, when you prepare Milo and Stella's meals, have an extra portion sent to the room next door."

"...Yes, sir." I could hear the curiosity in his hesitation, but he knew better than to ask questions.

Just as I ended the call, my phone buzzed again. Drew's name flashed across the screen.

"I heard you just got back from abroad, and your hotel's already been shot up?" His tone was concerned.

"Yeah," I replied calmly.

"Have they figured out who did it?" Drew pressed, clearly trying to get a reaction.

"So far, it looks like some homeless individuals carried out a random shooting. They're still investigating."

"That's a bummer," he sighed. "Isn't Milo being discharged today?"

My son had been admitted with a wrist fracture that needed surgery the day I returned—definitely not the homecoming I'd planned.

"No," I replied. "I extended his stay by two weeks."

"Is something wrong with him?" Drew's voice tightened with concern.

"He's fine." I maintained a deliberately casual tone. "Just enjoying some extra vacation time."

"...This isn't a hotel, Lucas!"

"We'll talk later."

“Lucas, wait—maybe I should call a shrink to check on you—”

"Save it for yourself." I ended the call before he could continue. Lowering my phone, I couldn't help but glance back at the room next door—her room.