Chapter 108

Serena's POV

The drizzle fell softly around me, tiny droplets catching the fading light. I stood there, acutely aware of the whispers and stares from the crowd gathered outside the venue. My silver-white gown suddenly felt heavier in the dampening air, but I maintained my composure, shoulders back, chin lifted slightly.

That's when I heard it. The distinct purr of luxury engines cutting through the murky disarray. A fleet of gleaming Rolls-Royces emerged from the rain like phantom ships, their chrome accents catching what little light remained in the day. The crowd's whispers grew louder, phones raised to capture the unexpected arrival.

My heart skipped a beat as the central vehicle came to a stop. I knew who it was before the door even opened. Several tall men in black suits emerged first, efficiently deploying umbrellas despite the light rain. Then, he stepped out.

Lucas. Even in the dim light, his presence commanded attention. His tailored black suit was impeccable, and the way he moved spoke of natural grace and authority. The Patek Philippe on his wrist caught a glint of light as he adjusted his grip on the black umbrella. Our eyes met across the distance, and I felt that familiar flutter in my chest.

He walked toward me with measured steps, each movement deliberate and elegant. The crowd seemed to part instinctively before him, creating a path between us. I noticed how the rain seemed to enhance rather than diminish his aura.

As he drew closer, I caught the subtle scent of his cologne mixing with the fresh rain. He stopped before me, close enough that his umbrella now sheltered us both. His grey eyes held mine, and I saw the warmth in them that so few others ever got to witness.

His hand extended toward me, palm up - an invitation. A gesture so simple yet loaded with meaning. I placed my hand in his, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine. His fingers closed around mine with gentle firmness, and I felt anchored, protected.

Camera flashes erupted around us, creating a constellation of artificial stars in the rain. But in that moment, they felt distant, unimportant. The world had narrowed to just us - the warmth of his hand, the shelter of his umbrella, the private smile we shared.

As we walked to the car together, I was aware of the picture we must have presented - the kind of scene that would dominate society pages tomorrow. But for once, I didn't care about the headlines or speculation. The only thing that mattered was the steady presence beside me, the way his thumb brushed almost imperceptibly across my knuckles as he helped me into the car.

The door closed with a soft thud, sealing us away from the world outside. Through the tinted windows, the rain-soaked scene became a watercolor painting of lights and shadows.

The elevator climbed smoothly to the top of Harrington Holdings, my heart keeping pace with each ascending floor. The familiar ping announced our arrival, and as the doors opened, I caught my breath.

The helipad stretched before us, a sleek helicopter waited. Manhattan's skyline provided a stunning backdrop, the city's lights beginning to twinkle in the dark.

"Congratulations, Miss Sinclair." Lucas's voice was formal, but his eyes held that private warmth I was beginning to know so well. Before I could respond, Miles approached, carrying what had to be the most exquisitely arranged bouquet of roses I'd ever seen.

"Boss spent the entire morning preparing these roses himself," Miles commented, his usually stoic expression betraying a hint of amusement. I looked at Lucas in surprise, noting the almost imperceptible shift in his posture - was that embarrassment?

The roses were perfect, each bloom carefully selected and arranged. The wrapping paper bore subtle creases that spoke of meticulous attention, far from the polished precision of professional florists. Something about those small imperfections made my heart swell.

Without thinking, I rose on my tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss to Lucas's cheek. The moment my lips touched his skin, I froze, horrified at my impulsiveness. I pulled back quickly, feeling heat rush to my face. Lucas stood perfectly still, but I caught the slight upturn of his lips and the deepening warmth in his grey eyes.

"I... thank you," I managed, clutching the roses like a lifeline. The helicopter's blades began to turn, sending a warm breeze across the helipad.

"Shall we?" Lucas gestured toward the waiting aircraft.

Reality crashed back in. "Wait, what? Where are we going?"

"The Bahamas." He stated it as simply as if he were suggesting lunch.

"I didn't bring any luggage," I protested weakly.

"Already packed for you." His smile grew more pronounced.

"I have meetings tomorrow..."

"Rescheduled."

"......"

"Your passport's already packed too," he added, clearly enjoying my flustered state.

The rotor blades picked up speed, drowning out any further protests I might have made. Lucas's hand found the small of my back, guiding me toward the helicopter. I should have been annoyed at his high-handedness, should have insisted on maintaining my carefully planned schedule. Instead, I found myself fighting back a smile.

"You promised me three months," he reminded me, his lips close to my ear to be heard over the noise. "I'm simply collecting on that promise."

As we settled into the plush interior of the helicopter, Manhattan spread out below us like a jeweled carpet.