Chapter 6: If you are not satisfied, I won't charge you

Serena’s expression was so calm and straightforward that it momentarily made Alexander question whether he had overreacted. Still, his features remained stoic, cold, and distant—an air of authority radiating off him, making it difficult for anyone to meet his gaze. 

As the elevator descended in silence, Serena’s mind whirled. The studio was still in its early stages, and landing a high-profile client like Alexander could secure its future. Ever since she entered the workforce, she had learned that pride alone wouldn’t pay the bills. Now, more than ever, she needed to fight for this opportunity.

“Mr. Vanderbilt,” she began, her tone professional but earnest, “I’d really like to know which design style you prefer. I can tailor something specifically for you, and if you’re not satisfied, I won’t charge anything.”

Alexander’s eyes narrowed slightly, caught off guard by her persistence. For a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. Was she truly this shameless, or just incredibly determined? After a pause, he finally said, “But you already have plenty of other clients, don’t you?”

Serena blinked, surprised by the unexpected question. Is he… worried that I’ll be too busy for him? While some designers juggled multiple projects at once, Serena prided herself on quality over quantity.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Vanderbilt,” she said confidently. “If I take on your order, I won’t accept any others in the short term. If you’re willing, we can discuss the details further—just five minutes.”

“I’m not,” Alexander replied curtly, stepping out of the elevator first. His long strides made it impossible for Serena to keep pace while supporting Kevin. She watched helplessly as he disappeared into the crowd.

Left with no choice, Serena adjusted Kevin’s weight and checked her phone for the driver’s location.

Though intoxicated, Kevin still maintained enough presence of mind to keep a respectful distance from her.

As they exited the 54 Club, the glare of headlights flashed twice nearby. A sleek car pulled up, and a woman in a fitted dress stepped out gracefully. Her delicate features were marred by a fierce expression as she stormed toward them. Before Serena could react, the woman raised her hand and slapped her hard across the face.

The sharp sting made Serena’s head snap to the side, her cheek instantly reddening.

“It’s you, isn’t it? Always pestering him at the studio with your designs?” the woman spat, her voice trembling with rage.

Serena barely had time to recover before the woman continued, her chest rising and falling rapidly as if struggling to contain her fury.

“Women like you are all the same—always trying to ruin someone else’s family. Listen carefully, you little tramp! All of Kevin’s money is with me. Even if you hook up with him, you won’t get a dime!”

Serena stared at her, stunned by the baseless accusations. She knew some women had tried to get close to Kevin at the studio, but she was certainly not one of them. Who does she think I am? she wondered, equal parts angered and amused by the absurdity.

Kevin, now somewhat sober, quickly grabbed the woman’s wrist. “Susan, calm down!”

But Susan was beyond reasoning. She yanked her hand free, her voice rising further. “Calm down? This shameless slut keeps pestering you even though she knows you’re married! And on my birthday of all nights?” Her voice cracked as tears threatened to spill. “A pretty face doesn’t change what she is—a promiscuous gold-digger! Such a beautiful girl only ends up being a promiscuous slut who hooks up randomly for money!”

Serena clenched her fists at her sides, resisting the urge to retaliate. She could easily explain the situation, but with Susan in such a state, any attempt at defense would only escalate matters.

Kevin, sensing the tension, pulled Susan into a reluctant embrace and turned to Serena with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Serena. Please, just… go.”

Suppressing her frustration, Serena nodded and began walking away. This isn’t worth it, she told herself. Besides, Susan was Kevin’s wife who was her boss and technically her senior in the industry. A confrontation wouldn’t help anyone. 

***

Inside a nearby car, Alexander observed the scene from the backseat. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were locked on Serena.

Jonathan, seated in the driver’s seat, sighed softly. “Good thing no one else is around. If this gets posted online, it’ll spread like wildfire.”

Alexander’s gaze remained cold as he looked away. “Drive.” 

***

The next morning, Serena dabbed foundation over the faint red mark on her cheek before heading to the studio.

The building, nestled in a bustling commercial district, housed several small firms, but Kevin’s studio occupied the prime spot—a testament to his hard work over the years. Though Serena only worked part-time, she made it a point to attend the monthly summary meetings.

She arrived early, but Kevin was notably absent. Half an hour later, he walked in wearing the same clothes as the night before, looking disheveled and tired. 

Serena stopped fidgeting with her pen when she saw him. She had a feeling that something bad had happened to Kevin.

Serena, seated near the back, noticed the tension in his posture. Something’s wrong, she thought, watching as he forced a weary smile and apologized for his tardiness.

“Sorry for being so late today,” Kevin said as he walked up to his seat at the front of the room. 

After the meeting concluded, Serena planned on leaving with everyone else but when she saw that Kevin slumped into his chair, rubbing his forehead wearily, she decided to check up on him.  

“Is everything okay?” she asked gently, approaching his desk.

Kevin sighed deeply. “Something happened to Susan’s family. It’s… complicated.” His voice was hoarse, and dark circles framed his bloodshot eyes. “I’m considering selling the studio,” he admitted after a pause, his tone bitter. “But I don’t know how to break the news to everyone.”

Serena’s eyes widened in shock. The studio had been thriving. Why sell it now?

“But why? Things have been going well.”

Kevin hesitated before answering. “I need at least three million dollars. If we’d landed Alexander’s deal last night…” He trailed off, rubbing his temples as if trying to ease an impending headache.

Serena didn’t need him to finish. She understood.

“I’ll try again with Alexander,” she said firmly, packing up her things. “Just don’t tell anyone about selling the studio yet.”

Kevin gave her a tired smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t put too much pressure on yourself. And about last night… I’m sorry. Susan wasn’t herself.”

Serena nodded and left the office, her mind already focused on her next step. She needed to meet Alexander directly—convincing him was her only option.

The Vanderbilt Group headquarters towered over the New York City skyline, its glass exterior reflecting the bright morning light. Rumored to be one of the most valuable properties in the city, it symbolized the Vanderbilt family’s vast influence.

After registering at the front desk, Serena approached the receptionist.

“Good morning,” she greeted politely. “I’d like to meet Mr. Vanderbilt. Do you know if he is available?”

The receptionist sized her up with a glance before replying coolly, “Do you have an appointment?”

“No, but I’m here for business,” Serena explained.

“For all business matters, please contact our Business Department. Without any prior arrangement, Mr. Vanderbilt won’t meet anyone,” the receptionist said curtly.

Serena hesitated, feeling a sting of frustration. I can’t exactly say I’m his wife… she thought, clenching her hands slightly. But I can’t just leave either.

Just then, her phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number.

Hello, Miss Morales. I’m Mr. Vanderbilt’s personal lawyer. I’ve tried delivering the divorce agreement twice, but you weren’t home. Do you have time now?

Her heart sank slightly. She glanced up at the towering building and sent a quick reply.

Can I meet Mr. Vanderbilt in person first?

After a brief pause, the lawyer responded: We’ll negotiate. Wait for further instructions.

On the top floor, Alexander sat behind his black marble desk, flipping through a stack of documents.

Jonathan entered quietly. “Mr. Vanderbilt, Miss Morales is downstairs. She’s asking to see you.”

Alexander’s expression didn’t change. Without looking up, he said coolly, “That won’t be necessary. Have the lawyer deliver the divorce agreement to her family.”

‘I’m sure she’s trying to stall. It’s not gonna make a change,’ he thought to himself.

Jonathan nodded without commenting on Alexander's personal affair, noting the hint of irritation in Alexander’s voice. “Also, George Murray has invited you for golf this afternoon. Shall we leave now?”

Adjusting his tie, Alexander stood. “Let’s go.”

Serena waited in the lounge for over an hour, watching as impeccably dressed executives came and went. Despite the calm exterior she maintained, anxiety gnawed at her.

Just then, her phone rang. It was her father.

“Serena, what happened? Why does Alexander suddenly want to divorce you?” Alfonso’s voice was unusually strained, his anxiety palpable. He spoke rapidly, as though afraid the words would vanish if he didn’t get them out fast enough. “Is there some kind of problem between you two? Come home right now so we can talk it over.” 

Serena paused, gripping her phone tightly. Her father’s tone was more frantic than she had expected, though deep down, she wasn’t surprised by his reaction. She took a deep breath before answering, choosing her words carefully.

“Dad, do you remember that Alexander left for abroad right after our marriage?” she began, her voice calm but tinged with weariness. “He did it to stay away from me. Now that he’s back, it’s only logical that he wants to finalize things.”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line before Alfonso’s voice returned, now edged with a nervous stutter. “Serena, you… you can’t get a divorce now! This is a critical time for the Morales family. We’re approaching the second round of financing, and if news of a divorce breaks out, it’ll be disastrous. Our stocks will plummet, and investors will back out.”

Before Serena could respond, another voice cut through the line—Araminta’s, sharp and dripping with disdain.

“I told you this would happen! She’s never been trustworthy and has never truly sided with the family. If she had put in any real effort, that lawyer wouldn’t have come knocking on our door with divorce papers! Now look at us—we’re a joke!”

Serena closed her eyes briefly, her grip tightening around the phone. Araminta’s hostility was nothing new, but it still stung.

A strained silence followed before Alfonso spoke again, this time in a low, almost pleading tone. “Serena… I’m doing this for your own good. Finding another husband after a divorce is difficult, especially for a woman in your position. Let’s go see Cornelius. He’s always liked you and may help us change Alexander’s mind.”

Serena’s chest tightened, a wave of suffocation washing over her. Is he worried about me… or the company? Or perhaps Araminta’s interests? she wondered, the lines between personal concern and business blending in a way that left her unsettled.

“Cornelius isn’t in New York, Dad. He went abroad to recuperate, and he hasn’t returned yet,” she said, keeping her tone composed despite the turmoil inside her. “Don’t worry. I’ll figure something out.” She offered a few more words of reassurance before ending the call.

Leaning back in her seat, Serena exhaled slowly, trying to ease the tight knot forming in her chest. The reality was clear—Alexander didn’t just dislike their marriage; he wanted out so badly that he wouldn’t even meet her in person. Sending his lawyer directly to her family was a statement, one she couldn’t ignore. He had drawn a line in the sand, and there was no point in waiting around to beg for something he had already decided.

With a disheartened sigh, she slid into the driver’s seat of her car. In her distracted state, she misjudged the doorframe and accidentally bumped her knee. A sharp pain shot up her leg, but she barely reacted, too preoccupied with her swirling thoughts. She rubbed the sore spot absentmindedly, her mind elsewhere.

Just as she was about to start the car, her phone buzzed with a new message from Kevin.

Kevin: Did Michael Murray, son of Murray Ltd’s CEO, contact you previously?

Serena stared at the screen, her brows furrowing in confusion. Michael Murray? Why was Kevin asking about him now? Something about the message felt off, and unease settled in her stomach as she pondered its implications.