15. Serena
Serena
Tick Tock…
“I don’t get what you’re upset about. She sold us the house.” I stormed into the condo and deleted the text message.
Miles slammed the door shut, and I checked my watch. I had to get out of here, but Miles was making it difficult.
“Don’t you think she sold it way too fast?”
Mrs. Fontaine was all set to sign after we checked out the house, and all I saw was an opportunity to make money. Another shot at success. The chance to make Mama happy for a bit.
Miles had been sulking since. I wanted to know what his problem was, but I had enough on my plate right now.
“She’s a lonely, rich old lady with no family close by, and she hated being alone in that big house.”
Walking into the living room, I tossed my bag on the couch, waking up Doughboy, who was sleeping there.
“What did I say? Off! Off my couch.” I shooed at the cat, but he just lifted his head and blinked slowly at me before lowering it back down.
“You didn’t ask about the shady-looking electric setup that was on the first floor, or the water damage in the attic. Why the hell are you acting so desperate over this place?” Miles glared, hands on hips.
I wasn’t going to explain myself, even if he was furious.
“You’re just looking for issues. This place is our only viable option. Unless you’ve got a magic wand and another estate tucked up your ass, we’re buying it.” I crossed my arms. “I’ve got this, Miles.”
With the merger announcement, board meetings, and Mama and Jenese drama, I needed a quick, easy win.
“Yeah, no shit.” He stepped closer, until I could practically taste the musky, expensive cologne on his skin. “But why? You won’t say why you don’t have the Harrington estate.”
“I told you, they sold to someone else.”
“Bullshit. I deserve to know the truth.”
Deserve? Everyone thought I owed them something. My time. Energy. Patience. But what was I getting out of it? More requests, more requests , and damn complaints.
“You deserve the truth?” I taunted. “That’s rich, coming from you.”
Miles frowned at me. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
I knew what I’d been getting myself into with Miles. I knew he was charming, a bit of a player. But he’d been my friend . One of my few friends.
I knew it was a bad idea. Not because our families were enemies then—they weren’t. They were long-time friends. And that was why we kept it quiet.
“I told you when we started this…whatever it was…that my work came first. That I wasn’t built for distractions. And you said you understood, Miles. You looked me in the eye and said you got it.”
My voice broke, just slightly.
“But the moment it got hard, the moment I didn’t prioritize us the way you wanted, you acted like I’d betrayed you.”
If anyone found out, it would’ve become a thing. A headline. A strategic alliance. A legacy union. And we weren’t ready for all that. We were just two people trying to figure out what the hell we were feeling.
“Because you didn’t prioritize us at all, Serena.” He stepped closer, jaw tight, voice quiet. I flinched.
“You talk like I gave up,” he said. “But you never gave me anything to hold on to. Soon as shit got messy, you chose your family over me. How the hell do I compete with that?”
“It wasn’t that simple?—”
“It was for you.” His voice hardened. “You picked a side. Own it.”
A bitter breath escaped my lips, the memory still causing a painful clenching in my chest.
I whirled around, a sudden rush of determination propelling me toward my bedroom.
“Serena!”
I didn’t stop. I had to get dressed and go. I was already late, and I didn’t like being late.
“This conversation is over,” I said.
I felt his hand wrap around my arm and spin me back.
“You keep talking to me like that, Serena…” His tone sent a chill straight down my spine. “One day, you’re gonna find out I’ll do it.”
“Do what?”
I could feel the tension in his chest as it rose and fell sharply, each breath brushing the space between us. My eyes flicked down—traitorously—to his mouth. Full, pink, parted like he was about to say something else, or maybe just bite back whatever he was thinking.
“I’m late.” I snatched my hand away from him and slammed my bedroom door in his face.
“Late for what, exactly?” Miles’s voice came through the door.
I leaned against the cool wooden door, taking a breath. I touched my chest—pressure always helped me calm down. I pressed down. Inhaled. Counted to four. Exhaled. Again.
King Developments couldn’t have any mistakes. That was all that mattered.
I shed my jacket, tossing it on the bed. What was I supposed to wear tonight?
“We’re not done talking, Serena. I can stand out here all night.”
The truth was, I had walked away from us. I hadn’t just chosen my career—I’d chosen control. Stability. A future I could plan, execute, dominate. Love didn’t fit in that structure. Not his kind, anyway.
I told myself I was being smart. That Miles would be fine. He always bounced back.
But the way he looked at me tonight…
I heard a soft meow and turned to see Doughboy was in my room.
“How the hell…” I mumbled and shook my head at the orange cat giving me that sideways look. I quickly changed into a dress, but couldn’t find the shoes that went with it.
“Where are my shoes?” I asked the cat.
Doughboy stretched out more, his body spread across the comforter in a way that screamed, This is mine now. You may leave.
I narrowed my gaze. “You know you’re not supposed to be up there.”
It had always been Miles. Even when I told myself it was casual, even when I told him I couldn’t afford to be distracted. He’d wormed his way under my skin. And I’d let him. I liked how easy he made things feel.
I wasn’t good at this. At feelings. At regret. At admitting I might’ve chosen wrong.
Doughboy yawned, showing off tiny sharp teeth, then flopped over. He couldn’t have cared less about me or my rules.
“You’re a menace,” I muttered, walking over to shoo him off.
He stayed put, a furry ball of defiance.
I gave him a little nudge. “Off. Get off, Doughboy.”
He let out a grunt, glared, and hopped down with that superior cat attitude. As he landed, a black thing slid out from under him onto the floor.
My black stiletto. How the hell did it get on my bed? I saw little teeth marks in it. Damn cat.
You can do this. Do the job. Give Jenese whatever she wants. Get her out of your life.
My dress was still half-zipped, the cool air hitting my exposed back. I yanked at the stubborn zipper, the teeth catching and snagging on the fabric, refusing to cooperate.
“Shit,” I whispered, tugging harder. With a resigned sigh, I cracked the door open just enough to peek through. Miles raised an eyebrow.
“Miles…” I rubbed my temples, feeling a headache come on. “Let’s just end this for tonight, okay? We can argue in the morning.”
I still awkwardly clutched the neckline of my dress to keep it from slipping.
“I can’t get it,” I muttered. “The zipper, I mean.”
“Turn around.”
I hesitated, but the command in his tone left no room for argument. I slowly turned away, gripping my dress as he came closer. His fingers, cool and smooth, grazed my back as he reached for the zipper, a fleeting touch that sparked an electric jolt.
The zipper moved smoothly under his hand, the soft zzzip loud in the quiet of the room.
“There,” he said, and I suddenly felt coldness on my back.
Miles had stepped back, his hands in his pockets.
“I’ll be back later,” I said.
“You’re my wife , and that means I care to know where you’re running off to at night in a short dress.”
“Miles, don’t make this more than what it is, we’re not that same couple from before.” I gave him a look, and he shrugged.
“Don’t wait up.” I grabbed my jacket and brushed past him, slamming the door behind me before he could say another word.