Chapter 123

Serena's POV

The spotlight illuminated Lucas, his presence commanding immediate attention. Impeccably dressed in a designer suit, with his hair slicked back and a serious expression on his face, he took to the stage. I couldn't help but be captivated. His presentation was flawless, each word carrying the weight of authority and confidence.

"In the past fiscal year, Harrington International has achieved unprecedented growth across all key sectors," Lucas began, his voice resonating through the ballroom. "Our core markets have seen a 27% increase, with international expansion exceeding initial projections by 15%."

I found myself drawn to the subtle changes in his expression as he spoke - the slight lift of his eyebrow when emphasizing key points, the measured gestures that accompanied each statement. There was something undeniably attractive about a man so completely in his element.

The presentation transitioned seamlessly into Howard Harrington's announcement. From his wheelchair, he projected an air of dignity that commanded respect. "Today marks a pivotal moment for Harrington International," he declared, his voice carrying surprising strength. "I am officially stepping down, passing the reins to my grandson, Lucas Harrington."

Applause erupted through the ballroom. I watched Lucas accept this moment with characteristic grace. That's when Howard's voice cut through the celebration with words that stopped my world.

"And I have one more announcement," he continued, his eyes twinkling. "I'm pleased to share that my grandson Lucas is engaged to Ms. Rachel Thorne of Thorne Industries."

For a moment, I couldn't breathe. Howard Harrington's words hung in the air like a physical weight pressing down on my chest. Lucas... engaged? To Rachel Thorne? The champagne glass trembled slightly in my hand as I struggled to maintain my composure.

My fingertips turned numb against the crystal stem, but I forced myself to keep smiling, even as I felt the color drain from my face. Around me, the elegant crowd burst into enthusiastic applause, their excitement feeling like needles against my skin. Every "congratulations" echoing through the room was another twist of the knife.

My mind raced back through every moment we'd shared. Every lingering look. Every almost-touch. Every time I'd thought I'd seen something more in his eyes. Had I imagined it all?

Rachel emerged from the crowd in a shimmering silver-rose gown that caught every light in the room. The dress wasn't just expensive - it was a statement of belonging, of fitting perfectly into this world. As she took her place beside Lucas, I noticed the matching rose accent on his black suit collar. What I'd dismissed as a festive touch now revealed itself as a carefully planned detail.

They looked perfect together. The power couple everyone expected. Lucas Harrington and Rachel Thorne - a match made in corporate heaven.

My mind flickered back to his words on the beach. The memory felt like a cruel joke now. I'd been naive enough to believe him, to think that all his attention meant something more.

But I should have known better. Hadn't life taught me enough lessons about trust? About hoping? The familiar numbness crept in, a protective shield I'd developed over years of disappointment. Of course this would happen. Of course.

I didn't make a scene. Didn't shed a tear. With practiced ease, I turned and walked toward the exit, my heels silent against the plush carpet. Behind me, the sound of celebration continued, undisturbed by my departure.

Sometimes the worst pain isn't the sharp kind that makes you cry out. It's the dull ache of realizing you've been fooled again, and the only person you can blame is yourself.

Lucas's POV

Rachel glided toward me in her silver-rose gown, every step perfectly calculated for maximum effect. The matching rose accent on my collar suddenly felt like it was burning against my skin. Of course they'd planned this - every detail orchestrated for the perfect engagement announcement.

"Lucas." My grandfather's grip on my wrist tightened, his voice barely a whisper but filled with steel. "Don't you dare ruin this."

Through the sea of faces, I caught sight of Serena turning away. The composed grace of her retreat was somehow worse than if she'd made a scene.

"I never agreed to this," I muttered, the words coming out through clenched teeth.

Rachel reached us, her practiced smile never wavering. "Lucas, everyone's watching," she murmured, extending her hand.

The pressure of expectations pressed in from all sides - the anticipatory hush of the crowd, the cameras poised to capture the moment, my grandfather's vice-like grip. But all I could focus on was Serena's retreating figure.

I wrenched my arm free from Howard's grasp. The sudden movement sent a ripple of whispers through the crowd.

"Lucas!" Howard's voice carried a warning that would have cowed me years ago. Not anymore.

I pushed past Rachel, ignoring her startled gasp. But before I could take three steps, a wall of dark-suited security materialized in front of me.

"Get out of my way." My voice was low, dangerous.

"We have our orders, sir." The lead guard's tone was apologetic but firm.

I could see Serena through the gaps between them, getting further away with each second. My hands clenched into fists, knuckles white with tension. The urge to fight through them warred with the knowledge that causing a scene would only make things worse.

By the time the guards "escorted" me to a private room, Serena was long gone. The door closed behind me with a final-sounding click.