30. Serena
Serena
The sunset gave the road ahead an orange glow, only lit up by my headlights and the occasional green-blue signs. I didn’t turn the music on. I didn’t need to drown anything out.
Daddy was with Audrey.
If I started assuming the worst, I’d just be Gigi. I didn’t even want to think that of him. Mama was a handful, but we all knew Daddy loved her. He’ll never do anything wrong like that. To destroy us. To destroy our legacy.
My phone buzzed beside me on the passenger seat.
I jumped. Please… Don’t let it be Jenese.
Reaching for it, I gave it a quick glance. It was Miles.
Come meet me. Trust me.
There was a pin with his location, but I didn’t reply. Just clicked it. Let the GPS guide me.
The farther I drove, the heavier the silence became.
It was clear to me what I had to do. About Jenese. About my family. I couldn’t keep living the way I had before. It was impossible to return to that life, when now I had Miles with me.
I had to let the old Serena go. The girl who let herself be used by someone like Jenese.
The girl who believed survival meant domination. That the only way to be strong was to win. At any cost.
I had been angry—so fucking angry. At my family. At men like my father. At the world that made me feel like I was nothing unless I took everything.
I let Jenese feed that anger. Shape it into something shiny and dangerous.
Something that looked like control but was really just fear dressed up.
What I had was what I needed. Yes, I’d always want King Enterprises, but the more I sat with it, the more I didn’t want that.
I just wanted what I thought would get me that approval.
The only approval I needed was from myself.
I had Miles. I had Laurene. Gigi. Noelle. Maybe even Erik.
I had myself.
Turning off the exit, I looked at the blinking arrow on my GPS. Really?
I pulled into the small gravel lot. It was nothing like the King parties or the rooftop lounges. It was a small brick building with fogged windows and soft light seeping through. A jazz club.
It’d been one of Dante’s economic development ideas these past few months to bring in new business to Lush.
When was Miles hanging out at jazz clubs?
I stepped out of the car, the wind cool against my arms, and walked in.
The sound hit first—slow jazz, sultry and rich, melting into the air like honey. The room was dim but golden, like something paused in time.
And then I saw him.
Miles.
“A jazz club?”
“Surprised?” He looked down at me. “How did your meeting go?”
Right… My meeting.
“Uneventful. We don’t have to worry about the protestors anymore,” I said quickly, looking around.
“We are almost at our two-month anniversary, and we haven’t had a date night, so I thought this would be the perfect place.”
I raised a brow. “You’re planning dates? Who’s gotten domestic?”
“We can go,” he said, and I rolled my eyes at him, pushing him. “But I wanted to take my wife out for a special night, just us and no work.”
“Or your cat.”
“You love Doughboy, don’t deny it.”
Hmm… The cat wasn’t the worst thing in my life. He provided some company, but not much.
“Dance with me.”
“Miles—”
“Just one song,” he said.
I hesitated, but then slipped my fingers into his.
He smiled, that soft kind of smile that always made me want to believe him.
He led me toward the dance floor, weaving us past small round tables dressed in white linen and gold candles.
The club was low-lit and warm, every surface bathed in amber and burgundy.
Exposed brick, wood-beamed ceilings, and a jazz band tucked into the corner, their music curling into the air like a secret.
The saxophone wailed a rich, aching solo that melted right into my chest. Around us, couples swayed—slow, effortless movements, like the world outside didn’t exist.
I swallowed as he turned to me. His hands found my waist, and mine slid up over his shoulders on instinct. Being this close still disarmed me. Still made everything feel softer, hazier.
He pulled me gently into the music, guiding us through the rhythm like he already knew where we were going.
We moved in slow circles, his touch steady, grounding.
And then I did what I always did—I tried to take control, shifting our pace just slightly.
Miles leaned in, mouth brushing my ear. “You need to let me lead.”
The heat from his breath scattered down my spine. I looked up at him.
“Then lead me,” I said.
Miles chuckled, and I relaxed.
His hand slid down my back, guiding me closer, and I let myself breathe in the moment—the music, the flicker of candlelight, the way his touch steadied me even when everything inside still felt unmoored.
But my mind wasn’t quiet.
I’d seen her—Miles’s mother—talking to my father at the polo match. A match no one I knew was supposed to be attending. What secrets was Daddy hiding? Hell, my whole family was hiding secrets.
And then, Dante. I made a deal with the devil because he was my only hope.
Miles turned us again, and I exhaled.
“I was thinking,” I murmured, my voice barely audible over the saxophone. “About what you said back at home a few nights ago.”
He tilted his head, eyes flicking to mine. “Yeah?”
“You asked if you should still run your family’s company.” I nodded, my throat tight. “I’ve been thinking about that a lot.”
His gaze softened, but he didn’t interrupt.
“I love what I do. I’m good at it.” I swallowed. “But I’m tired, Miles. I’m always tired. I don’t know who I am outside of King Developments. I don’t know what I like. I haven’t had a real hobby since I was seventeen.”
He held me a little closer, like he could feel the weight of what I was admitting.
“I was reading about sabbaticals,” I said with a dry laugh. “You know, the kind where people take time off to…I don’t know. Find themselves? Travel. Take pottery classes. Whatever the hell people do when they’re not working themselves into the ground.”
Miles grinned. “You’d look cute with clay on your nose.”
“Shut up,” I muttered, but I smiled.
He spun us slowly, one hand catching mine again, and I let him. Let him hold me steady.
“I just…I’ve built everything on the idea that I had to prove I was stronger. Smarter. Untouchable,” I said. “But I think it’s time I step back. I’d been fighting giving Erik my company, but…he can have it for now. I just wanna relax.”
Shock clouded Miles’s features, and I felt fearful of what I said aloud. This was scary. Unnerving. Nerve-racking.
His thumb brushed over my knuckles. “You deserve more. All I ask is that you don’t start collecting chickens and ugly statues.”
I rolled my eyes, but the laugh escaped before I could stop it.
He smirked, then without warning, dipped me.
My breath caught. The saxophone wailed behind us, and the room blurred into soft candlelight and clinking glasses. His hand held me securely, and I clung to his shoulder, startled but smiling wide.
“You’re ridiculous,” I whispered, heart still racing from the drop.
He leaned in, eyes molten. “You’re radiant.”
And then he kissed me.
But even as my eyes fluttered closed, even as warmth bloomed in my chest like jazz on the speakers… I couldn’t ignore the thought pressing at the back of my mind.
I still had to face my father.