Chapter Five- Past

The penthouse office reeked of cigars, old money, and cleaner trying to mask it all. Serena sat still on the leather couch, legs crossed at the ankle, hands perfectly folded in her lap—just the way her mother taught her. Polished. Composed. Presentable.

When her father called her back yesterday, she didn't expect him to fly her to New York to meet Vale family.

Her father was pacing—sharply, rhythmically—while Gregory Vale lounged with a scotch in hand, watching Robert with idle amusement, like this was theater.

“He’s late,” Robert growled.

“He’s Lucian,” Gregory said lazily. "His sense of time is different than ours. He'll only arrive when he wants to."

The doors opened right then, like on cue.

Lucian Vale entered without ceremony, coat draped over his arm, gloves tucked into one hand. No rush, no apology. Just cold purpose in every step.

Serena’s spine straightened on instinct.

He was taller than she remembered. Sharper, too. Like someone carved him out of shadow and ice with no intention of softening the edges. There was something lethal in the coldness he carried, something that made her pulse spike despite her otherwise perfectly trained composure.

His eyes flicked to her—briefly—but that single glance struck like a brand. Cool, assessing, detached. As if he were measuring her worth and finding it already calculated.

He looked away just as quickly, and she told herself it meant nothing.

But her fingers tightened slightly in her lap.

His eyes settled on her father.

“Glad you could finally join us,” Robert snapped.

Lucian gave him a dismissive glance, already moving deeper into the room. “Had a meeting with people who actually matter."

He sat, uninvited, sprawling like a king on a throne no one questioned.

Lucian glanced at her father coldly again, as if he were a speck of dust on his shoe. Serena winced, titling her head to the ground. If that was the reception her father got, she better prepare herself for even worse.

Her father cleared his throat. "So, since we are here, shall we talk about the marriage?"

Serena breathed quietly. So this was it.

Lucian didn’t look at Robert. He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, expression unreadable.

“No.”

The word landed with the weight of something final.

Robert stiffened. “What do you mean, no?”

Lucian leaned back in the chair, legs crossing leisurely, his expression unreadable as he pulled a pen from the inside pocket of his suit.

“I’ll do it,” he repeated, voice smooth as silk and just as cutting. “But I made some changes. In your favor, Robert. Generous ones.”

Robert’s eyes narrowed. “Changes?”

Lucian slid the folder across the table. “You’ll see. Your studio will get the backing it needs. The investors you’ve been chasing? I’ve already spoken to them. They’ll sign on. I’m even extending full marketing support from Vale Studios when your projects launche."

Serena blinked. That was....far more than what she assumed this arrangement was for. Horror pooled in her stomach. So her father was using her to not only further his name by tying her to Lucian, but also using Lucian's money and power for his production house.

It should’ve been a victory for Robert. A slam dunk. But the undercurrent in Lucian’s tone was too steady, too detached. There was no excitement in his voice—only calculation.

“But there’s one condition,” Lucian said, tone sharpening like a knife drawn clean. “The marriage stays private.”

Serena’s head jerked up. What?

Robert blinked. “What?”

“You heard me,” Lucian said, cool and unapologetic. “A closed ceremony. No announcement. No press. Prefereably just a register marriage. No Vale name in lights beside hers.”

Silence fell like a dropped curtain.

Gregory whistled low under his breath but didn’t intervene.

Her Father's voice turned icy. “You think I’d agree to a secret wedding after everything I’ve given up to arrange this? You think this is some PR stunt—”

Lucian cut him off with a glance. “Don’t insult our intelligence, Robert.”

He sat forward, elbows resting on the desk, suddenly closer. Sharper.

“You don’t care about the Vale name being tied to her,” he said quietly. “You don’t even trust me. That’s why you’re pushing this—because you think if I put a ring on her finger, I’ll be less likely to destroy what’s left of your reputation for strong arming me into this marriage.”

Robert didn’t deny it.

Serena looked down, humiliation burning her. Just as she thought, he wouldn't have even bothered to look at her if not for the favour he owed her father. And this was the man her father was forcing her to marry. And he wants to keep her like a dirty secret. Her stomach clenched at the thought.

It was justifiable she guessed. It wasn't as if her name shined bright enough to be tied to his. Neither her first name, nor her last name could survive in the glitter of Vale name. Lucian Vale was notoriously possessive over the Vale name and how it is used.

“I have my own reasons for agreeing to this,” Lucien said. “But let’s not pretend this marriage needs to be public. All it'll bring is conspiracy theories because the late hollywood star's outcast daughter is suddenly being cast as the leading lady of my own personal production budget film and the man she's marrying is funding it. It isn't a good look on me. The press around that would be unsavoury and I would never forgive anyone who ruins this film."

Every word was deliberate. Icy. Final.

Not even a glance in her direction as he delivered the terms of their union like he was dictating a business deal.

She shouldn’t have been surprised. But the ache in her chest bloomed anyway.

Robert scowled. “And if I say no?”

“Then you lose my mercy".

The silence stretched.

Serena couldn’t breathe through it. She understood all too well. If her father didn't agree to the terms, Lucian Vale would stop caring about the favour he owed her father, and ruin her, and her father, until there was nothing left.

Her father’s jaw worked as he stared at Lucian, hate barely veiled behind his eyes. But power was a cruel god, and Lucian Vale had more of it in that moment than Robert could ever touch.

And Robert Rivera always bent for power.

“I’ll have the lawyers draft a clause,” Robert muttered.

Lucian leaned back again, expression coldly empty. “Good.”

No one looked at Serena.

No one asked her what she thought.

Because no one in this room cared.

"You don't have to worry, Mr Rivera. I'll pay back your favour and restore Rivera legacy through your daughter." His cold gaze flicked to her. "After all, You and I both know she's the only Rivera worth anything now."

She froze at the words. Is this how he thought of her now? Serena has never been a Rivera to him, or so she had thought.

Serena stifled a sigh, standing up to leave along with her father. If only he knew she was The Rivera worth least of them all.

Good thing she had learned long ago to deal with the cards given to her.

Quiet obedience was easier than resisting a game already rigged.

She adjusted her coat with a practiced grace, her fingers numb despite the warmth of the penthouse.

Just as she neared the door, Lucian’s voice cut through the room, low and smooth.

“Miss Rivera. Stay.”

She paused, her spine straightening at the sound of her name on his lips. At being talked to directly.

Robert turned back, bristling. “What for?”

Lucian didn’t look at him. His eyes were on her. Unmoving. Dark.

“I want a word. Alone.”

There was no space for argument in his tone.

Her father looked like he wanted to protest, but a glance at Lucian's face silenced him.

Gregory clapped him on the back, already amused. “Let them figure out how to tolerate each other. We’ll be outside.”

Wordlessly, they both left, the doors clicking shut behind them.