Chapter 9
The three men’s smiles wavered, just for a moment, before softening into their usual easy charm.
“Serena, you’ve misunderstood. We truly didn’t know…”
She didn’t care to hear another word.
She turned and walked away.
The night before her birthday, Miles Carrington, Grayson Hale, and Declan Price showed up at her door–again.
“Serena,” Miles leaned against the doorframe, his gaze locked on hers, “you’re choosing Julian tomorrow, aren’t you?”
Serena stared at them, her voice flat. “I already told you. I’m not picking him.”
“Don’t be like this,” Grayson sighed, his tone gentle–too gentle, like he was humoring a child. “If Julian rejects you, you’ve still got
“That’s right,” Declan stepped closer, his voice low and heavy. “We love you, Serena. Why are you so obsessed with Julian? Why can’t you just turn around and see what’s right in front of you?”
Serena almost laughed.
Who did they think they were, acting like she’d ever choose one of them?
“You can relax,” she said quietly, turning her back on them. Her voice was calm, unshakable. “I’m not choosing any of you.
The three of them exchanged looks, clearly dismissing her words as another one of her moods, and left soon after.
But not long after, Julian Blackwell appeared.
“Serena,” he said coolly, standing at her door in a sharp black suit, his expression like stone. “I know you’ll choose me tomorrow. That’s fine. I’ve accepted it. But promise me one thing–stay away from Evie. If you hurt her again-
“I’m not choosing you,” she cut him off coldly.
Julian chuckled, low and cynical. “You actually think I’d believe that?”
Without another word, he turned and walked away.
Serena closed her eyes, exhaustion crashing over her like a wave–until her phone rang, shattering the silence.
“Serena,”
“her mother’s voice came through, crisp and composed. “We’ve spoken with Wesley. He’ll be at the venue on time tomorrow.” There was a pause. Then, more cautiously: “Are you absolutely sure you want to choose him?”
Serena’s hand tightened around the phone. Her tingers trembled.
“I’m sure.”
On her birthday, the banquet hall sparkled with opulence. Crystal chandeliers rained light over polished marble floors, casting the whole room in a golden glow.
Serena entered in a blazing red gown, the tabric flowing behind her like fire. Every head turned.
Miles, Grayson, and Declan were the first to swarm her.
Chapter 9
“Serena,” Miles said, eyes filled with awe, “you look… breathtaking I can’t look away.”
“That dress is stunning on you,” Grayson added with a warm smile.
“Happy birthday, princess,” Declan said, offering her a glass of champagne.
Serena opened her mouth to reply-
But the room suddenly fell into a strange, heavy silence.
She turned her head–and froze.
Julian Blackwell was walking in.
On his arm, Evangeline Hart.
And Evie was wearing the exact same red dress.
Gasps swept through the room.
The three men’s faces darkened. One after another, they made excuses.
“Serena, something just came up. We’ll catch you later.”
They slipped away, leaving her standing alone in a room full of eyes.
Her heart dropped.
Julian strode straight toward her. His voice was sharp, laced with ice.
“Serena, either go change–now–or…”
His eyes narrowed. “I’ll rip it off you myself.”
Serena’s fists clenched at the fabric of her dress, but she didn’t move.
Julian’s patience snapped. He raised a hand. “Take her. Get her changed.”
Two bodyguards stepped forward and grabbed her by the arms, dragging her out of the hall.
Ten minutes later, she returned in a plain white dress.
Her face was pale. Her eyes were blank.
The banquet began.
The emcee stepped onto the stage with a bright smile. “Miss Whitmore, may I ask–who will you choose as your fiancé tonight?” Serena took a breath. “Just a moment.”
Miles frowned. “Serena, who are you waiting for?”
And then
Bang!
The grand doors of the hall were thrown open.
Her parents, Eleanor and Mr. Whitmore, walked in, and behind them stood a tall man in a perfectly tailored black sult.
His features were sharp, chiseled like a sculpture, his presence so commanding it sucked the air from the room.
He was back
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He was finally back
Serma’s eyes welled with tears
She didn’t hesitate
She walked straight toward him, voice shaking but firm.
“I choose him. Wesley Hawthorne”
