Chapter 259

Serena's POV

"For someone like me, I'm just a nobody," I said deliberately, weighing each word as I spoke. The private room in the coffee shop suddenly felt smaller, more confining. "In the eyes of the Thornes and Harringtons, I'm worthless. If I'm destroyed, it wouldn't be much of a loss - after all, it wouldn't be the first time. But if you and Lucas were to fall..." I let the implication hang in the air. "Now that would be an incalculable loss, wouldn't it?"

Rachel Thorne's eyes flashed with contempt, a bitter smile playing across her lips. "Serena Sinclair, you're even cleverer than I expected. I wonder what Lucas would think if he knew how calculating you really are? The same Lucas who would sacrifice everything - even his life - to save you. How do you think he'd feel knowing it was all for nothing?"

I met her gaze unflinchingly. "You're right, it wasn't worth it. That's precisely why I'm making it clear to you now - Lucas and I are done. If I could use him to this extent, what makes you think I ever planned on reconciling with him?"

As I spoke these words, my mind was racing through the events of yesterday. None of it had been accidental - not the adult indiscretion, not the supposed act of gratitude. Everything had been meticulously orchestrated from the moment Rachel had threatened to use Milo against me. I'd been planning how to make her back off permanently.

I knew with absolute clarity that given the vast disparity in our social standing and influence, I could never control her directly. The only viable option was to find leverage. But obtaining compromising information on Rachel Thorne in such a short time frame was nearly impossible. Lucas was my only real weapon against her.

Rachel seemed to sense my strategy. She let out a cold laugh. "You really think, with the combined influence of our families, we couldn't suppress any news story? Look at Jace Gillard's accident - such a major incident, yet the public knows nothing. Surely you understand that our reach extends far beyond what you can imagine."

I went straight for the jugular: "What about Atticus Thorne?"

Her face darkened instantly, and I knew I'd hit my mark. "Oh, I'm well aware I'm no match for your family's influence. But Atticus? He's a different story. What do you think he'd do if I shared this information with him? He'd break off your engagement to Lucas in a heartbeat."

Rachel's expression contorted with rage. "I have to admire your cunning, Serena. You always know exactly what moves will benefit you most. But you're overplaying your hand! You should know very well why those previous 'accidents' happened, and who was behind them."

I watched her carefully, my heart rate accelerating though I maintained my composed exterior.

"Since I went to such lengths before, do you really think I'd pass up such a perfect opportunity when you've walked right into my trap?" Her smile sent chills down my spine. "From the moment you reached out to meet today, I never intended to let you leave here alive."

Fighting down my growing unease, I countered, "Aren't you concerned about my backup plans? If anything happens to me, everything I just showed you goes public immediately."

"But I have your phone now," she said smugly. "How exactly do you plan to get anything to Atticus? I can move much faster than he can track down your supposed backup files."

Maintaining an air of casual indifference, I reached into my bag, pretending to pull out a tissue while secretly pressing the signal button hidden inside. The corresponding device in Atticus's possession would now be flashing red. I knew I was playing with fire, but this was my only chance.

Suddenly, Rachel made a subtle gesture. The guard behind her pulled out a gun and aimed it at my head. An icy chill ran down my spine, but I forced myself to maintain my composure.

"Didn't expect I'd go this far, did you?" She laughed maniacally.

Despite my best efforts to hide it, I knew my fear was becoming visible. No one can truly remain unfazed when staring down the barrel of a gun. All I could do was pray that Atticus would receive my signal and arrive before the worst could happen.

"Will you regret dying by my hands, Serena?" Rachel's voice dripped with contempt. She twirled her wine glass, the deep red liquid catching the light. "You know, I've imagined this moment countless times. How many opportunities I've missed, and now here you are, walking right into my trap. Your arrogance has always been your downfall, Serena Sinclair."

I maintained my composure, though my fingers gripped the armrests of my chair tight enough to turn my knuckles white. "Do you really think Lucas will ever forgive you if you kill me?" My voice remained steady, masking the rapid calculations running through my mind as I assessed my options.

She let out a harsh laugh that echoed off the wood-paneled walls. "Forgive me? Does he forgive me now?" Rachel leaned forward, her perfectly manicured nails drumming against the tabletop. "He already hates me, Serena. What's one more reason? At least with you gone, he'll have nothing left to hope for."

The weight of the situation pressed down on me, I held her gaze, refusing to show fear. The silence between us grew thick with tension, broken only by the faint hum of the air conditioning.

Rachel's patience finally snapped. She rose from her chair, her tall frame casting a long shadow over me. Her dress whispered against the carpet as she moved, a sound that seemed unnaturally loud in the tense atmosphere. The triumph in her eyes was unmistakable as she savored what she believed to be her moment of victory.

She paused beside me, close enough that I could smell her expensive perfume. Looking down at me with cold satisfaction, she addressed the security guard standing by the door. "Make it clean."

"Yes, ma'am," the guard responded, his face impassive.

Rachel started walking toward the door. "I'll spare myself the unpleasant scene. You know, Serena, you should be grateful you've lived this long. Your time was borrowed from the moment you stepped into our world. Consider this an overdue correction."

I watched as she gestured for the guard to open the door, my mind racing through scenarios, remembering every detail of the room's layout, every possible weapon or escape route. The heavy door swung open with a soft creak.

In that instant, everything changed. The barrel of a black pistol appeared, pressed firmly against Rachel's forehead.