Chapter 9

Ian’s POV

I settle into a lounge chair in the waiting area, my eyes drifting to the floor-to-ceiling windows. I can see the busy streets below, people in suits rushing around like ants. I just need a few minutes of Lucas’s time, a simple conversation to secure a future position for the Whitmore Family’s high-end fashion line in what’s going to be the biggest damn commercial district in the country. That’s all I want.

Time passes, and I finally notice movement. Through the glass, I see a group of executives passing by. One of them, a man with a stack of folders—maybe that’s his assistant—leads the pack. I lean forward, eyes narrowed.

They move as one through the sea of suits, smooth and self-assured. Through gaps in the crowd, I catch glimpses of someone at the front - must be Lucas. He turns, and for a moment our eyes meet. I manage a polite smile and nod. He pauses, his brow furrowing slightly, before returning the nod and hurrying to catch up with his team. The crowd swallows him again, leaving just the blur of dark suits and purposeful strides.

I return to my seat, tapping my foot against the marble floor. It’s okay. He’s busy. They told me he’s in a board meeting. Fine. I can wait. The Whitmore Family’s position in the upcoming commercial district is too important to screw up by being impatient. I’ve got all day if needed.

I wait for hours, but Mr. Harrington never appears. The secretary keeps making excuses: first he’s in a board meeting, then he’s at lunch, then he’s inspecting a site. By late afternoon, everyone’s leaving, and I’m still here. Finally, she admits he left for the day. I’ve wasted my entire day waiting for a man who never intended to see me.

Left. For the day. After making me sit here like an idiot since morning. I turn on my heel and storm out of the building, face like stone. I climb into my car, slam the door. My phone buzzes. It’s Nina calling.

“Hey, lan!” Nina’s voice is sugary sweet, always trying to sound helpful. “You spent all day at Harrington International, right? You must’ve had a great chat with Mr. Harrington! How did it go?”

My knuckles turn white around my phone. “I’m not in the mood, Nina.”

She’s quick, though. Always fishing for details. “I’m having dinner with Evelyn right now. Wanna join us? Or maybe you and Lucas made dinner plans?”

I grind my teeth. “I’m not going anywhere. You two have fun.”

She pauses, her voice growing concerned. “You sound upset. Everything okay?”

I swallow my anger. I’m not telling her I got played. “I’m fine. Just tired. I want to go home.”

She tries to soothe me. “Alright, get some rest. By the way, you saw Mr. Harrington up close, right? How is he? Some middle-aged big shot with a dad bod?”

I let out a bitter laugh, but it comes out hollow. “Not really. He’s pretty plain, honestly.”

Nina giggles. “I figured. Well, I won’t keep you. I’m almost at the restaurant. Feel better, okay?”

I hang up, tossing my phone onto the passenger seat and slammed my fists on the steering wheel and yelled, "AHHHHH! FUCK YOU! Lucas Harrington, just you wait!" I growled fiercely.

Serena’s POV

I’m lying on my bed, phone in hand, trying to decide on dinner. I’m not in the mood to cook, and I’m about to tap on the delivery app when my phone rings. It’s the same unfamiliar number from this morning. I sigh, already prepared to shut down Lucas’s “invitation.”

“Hello?” I say, voice clipped. I expect Lucas’s low voice. Instead, I hear a bright, excited voice: “Mommy! It’s me, Milo!”

My heart clenches. Milo. I can almost see his big eyes and cheerful grin through the phone. “Milo?” I manage. It’s been three days since I last saw him and Stella.

Milo chatters on, “Daddy and Stella and I are coming to pick you up in ten minutes! We’re going to have dinner together! I miss you!”

I open my mouth, ready to refuse. But then Milo calls me “Mommy” again, that simple word making my throat tight. I can’t say no. “Alright,” I whisper, feeling my carefully built resistance crumble. “I’ll wait downstairs.”

It’s ridiculous, but I find myself grabbing my crutch and leaving the apartment. Outside, the city lights blur against the dusk, and I spot Lucas’s black Maybach parked near the entrance. He’s leaning against the car, tall and so damn self-assured. People are staring—he’s the kind of man who draws eyes without trying.

He sees me, and for a second, something warm sparks in his gaze. He strides over, takes my crutch from me, and slips an arm around my waist as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. I feel the weight of curious glances, but I just grit my teeth and let him lead me to the car. Inside, Milo and Stella beam at me like I’m their entire world.

Milo bounces in his seat, “Mommy, I got transformer for you to see after dinner!”

Stella’s voice is softer, sweeter, “Mommy, I’m really hungry. Can we have cake later? I want something sweet.”

They keep talking, rattling off all the dishes they want to eat. I relax a bit, answering them gently. “Sure, we can have whatever you like.” Milo cheers, Stella grins. Lucas says nothing, just watches us with that quiet intensity, his presence filling the car even without words.

The restaurant is classy, floor-to-ceiling windows giving a stunning view of the city. The waitress seats us at a table near the glass. As I settle in, my eyes drift across the room. That’s when I see them: Nina Sinclair and Evelyn Whitmore, sitting not too far away, laughing over something.

Lucas flips through the menu, but I know he’s noticed my sudden tension. Without a word, he follows my line of sight, his gaze sweeping over Nina and Evelyn. They’re talking loudly enough that snatches of their conversation reach me.

Evelyn’s voice drips with scorn. “Date with a guy who’s got kids and got dumped before? I’d rather die.” She laughs, harsh and bitter. “And what about that Serena Sinclair? Eighteen and knocked up, wasn’t she? No shame.”

I feel Stella tug on my sleeve, pointing to a dessert page. “Mommy, look, chocolate mousse! Can we get that?”

Milo chimes in, “And mango pudding for me!”

I force a smile. “Of course, sweetheart.” My chest tightens, but I refuse to show any weakness. Lucas’s voice is low, calm. “What would you like to eat?” he asks me, ignoring the hateful whispers from across the room as if they don’t exist. His words brought my attention back to ordering. Just as the waiter and I were placing my order, he suddenly stood up.

He excuses himself to the restroom, leaving me with the kids. I turn my full attention to Stella and Milo, allowing their bright, eager voices to ease the sting of those cruel words lingering in my chest. Stella whispers happily, “After dinner, I’ll show you my drawings, Mommy. I drew the stars.”

I stroke her hair. “I can’t wait, baby.”

A few minutes pass, then I see Lucas returning. Almost immediately, I notice two waitstaff approach Nina and Evelyn’s table. One of them says politely, “I’m sorry, we need to clear this section. Would you mind leaving now?” The tone is firm, no-nonsense.

Evelyn’s face twists. “What do you mean clear the section? It’s barely dinnertime!”

“Ma’am, we’re asking you to leave.” The waiter’s smile doesn’t falter.