Chapter 121

Serena's POV

The familiar Manhattan skyline gradually came into view through the private jet's window as I stirred from my nap. Lucas had insisted I rest during the flight, quietly handling his own work while letting me sleep. The thought brought an involuntary smile to my face.

The plane touched down at 3 PM sharp. As we descended the stairs, I spotted Miles waiting beside a sleek black Mercedes. His efficiency never ceased to amaze me.

"Welcome back to Manhattan, Mr. Harrington, Miss Sinclair," Miles greeted us with his characteristic professionalism.

Once we were settled in the car, Miles began his briefing. "The three business dinners have been rescheduled over the next three days. Tonight's priority is the Harrington International anniversary celebration. Your evening gown has been prepared as requested."

I raised an eyebrow. "My evening gown?"

"As the future Mrs. Harrington, you should definitely attend tonight's celebration," Lucas interjected smoothly, his gray eyes holding a hint of amusement. "Consider it an inspection of your future domain."

I felt heat rise to my cheeks at his words, still not quite used to such open declarations of his intentions. To hide my reaction, I turned to Miles. "Miles, what's your salary? StarRiver could use someone with your capabilities."

A low chuckle came from Lucas. "You won't be able to poach him."

"Oh? And why is that?"

"There's only one way to get Miles on your team," Lucas replied, his voice dropping to that dangerous octave that never failed to make my heart skip. "Marry me. Then what's mine becomes yours."

The rest of the drive passed in a blur of business updates. Miles detailed StarRiver's latest collaboration with the television network, his precise knowledge of my company's operations impressive as always.

We pulled up to the luxury boutique where my gown awaited. Lucas, already in his perfectly tailored suit, needed to handle some work before the celebration.

"I'll see you tonight," he said, his hand briefly squeezing mine before he left with Miles.

Standing in the boutique's private fitting room, I gazed at my reflection in the full-length mirror. The crimson gown Lucas had chosen was exquisite - modern yet timeless, exactly like the man himself.

After three hours of styling hair and applying makeup, Ethan navigated the Rolls-Royce through evening traffic with practiced ease. As we approached the Harrington International headquarters, the building's façade gleamed against the darkening sky, its windows illuminated for tonight's 50th-anniversary celebration.

The scale of the event struck me the moment I stepped into the grand ballroom. Three levels of opulent space stretched before me, far grander than the charity gala previously. Chandeliers cascaded from the ceiling, their light catching on the champagne towers and creating endless sparkles across the room. It seemed every significant figure in Manhattan's business world had turned out for the occasion.

I moved through the crowd, nodding at familiar faces while scanning for one in particular. It had been too long since I'd seen Milo and Stella, and I missed them terribly. The thought of their bright smile and innocent questions made my heart ache a little.

"Serena Sinclair?"

The male voice caught me off guard. I turned to find a well-dressed man watching me with an expectant expression. Something about him seemed vaguely familiar, but I couldn't quite place him.

"Yes?" I offered a polite smile.

His expression darkened. "I'm James Chapman."

The name should have meant something, but my mind remained blank. I maintained my diplomatic smile while trying to place him - perhaps a business contact I'd forgotten?

"You really don't remember me, do you?" His tone carried an edge of anger that seemed disproportionate to the situation. "I get that playing hard to get is a common tactic, but this is just nauseating!"

I took a step back, my smile fading. "I apologize, but I really don't-"

"Your father personally introduced us at the Sinclair mansion," he cut in, reaching for my arm. "Or have you forgotten that too?"

The memory suddenly clicked into place. He was one of the many suitors my father had paraded before me. I'd dismissed the introduction so quickly I'd barely registered James's existence.

"Let go of me," I said quietly but firmly, "unless you want to make a scene."