Chapter 2 : I’ll have my chance sooner or later

When Serena and Alexander married, he hadn’t even bothered to appear at city hall. The entire process had been orchestrated by Cornelius Vanderbilt’s influence, allowing Serena to obtain the marriage certificate without her groom’s presence.

Now, for the first time, she truly faced the reality of that document. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she opened the drawer, pulled out the marriage certificate, and traced her fingers over the embossed seal.

Alexander Vanderbilt.

The name carried an almost suffocating weight.

She barely glanced at the picture beside her own before tossing the certificate back into the drawer. Dwelling on it wouldn’t change anything. Their marriage was nothing more than a formality, and soon enough, it would be undone.

Deciding she had wasted enough time, Serena grabbed her coat and left for the hospital to visit her younger sister, Valentina.

By the time she arrived, it was past noon. The hospital hallways smelled faintly of antiseptic, the sterile scent mingling with the warmth of sunlight streaming through the high windows. The nurse had already left for lunch, leaving Valentina alone in the ward.

The moment Serena stepped inside, Valentina’s delicate features lit up.

“Serena!” she gasped excitedly, struggling to sit up. “What are you doing here? Let me guess—Dad’s being paranoid again?” She rolled her eyes. “I told him I’m fine! How could he go behind my back and call you?”

Serena chuckled, walking over to the bedside and handing her a cool bottle of water. “He’s just worried about you.”

Valentina had always been frail, her health delicate since birth. Each time she was hospitalized, their father, Alfonso, became overprotective, hovering like a hawk.

Valentina groaned, leaning back against her pillows. “Well, I hate being stuck here! Mom won’t stop fussing, and all I get to eat is milk. Do you know how humiliating it is for a grown woman to survive on bland hospital food?”

She tugged at Serena’s sleeve, eyes gleaming with mischief.

“The nurses won’t shut up about this new burger place nearby, and now I need one. Serena, you’re my favorite sister! Let’s sneak out and get me a burger—just one bite, I swear!”

Serena arched an eyebrow, arms crossed. “Didn’t you just say you told Dad you were fine?”

Valentina grinned sheepishly. “Fine enough for a burger.”

Despite herself, Serena sighed in amusement. She had always been weak against Valentina’s pleading expression.

Half an hour later, they returned with a freshly wrapped burger. The warm, savory scent filled the room as Serena unwrapped it and handed it over.

“Just a taste,” she warned, her voice stern but affectionate. “No swallowing.”

Valentina eagerly leaned forward, her fingers closing around the sandwich. But just as she was about to take a bite, a sharp voice cut through the air.

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

The tension in the room snapped like a rubber band.

Serena turned to see Araminta Morales, their stepmother, standing in the doorway, her perfectly manicured nails digging into the designer handbag she clutched.

Her expression was a storm of fury and disbelief.

Striding forward, she snatched the burger from Valentina’s hands and, without hesitation, hurled it into the trash.

Araminta’s voice sliced through the tense silence, sharp and accusatory.

“Are you trying to kill your sister?” she spat, her cold gaze locking onto Serena. “I always knew you had bad intentions!”

Serena barely flinched, though the familiar bitterness churned in her chest. She had long grown used to Araminta’s hostility. Her eyes flickered to the discarded burger in the trash, the wrapper now crumpled like a useless scrap of paper. So much for a simple indulgence.

“What else did she feed you?” Araminta demanded, whirling on Valentina. “Are you feeling sick? I should call your father!”

“Mom, stop,” Valentina said anxiously, tugging at Araminta’s sleeve. “It’s not Serena’s fault. I begged her for it.”

Araminta paused, but instead of showing any sign of embarrassment, she merely narrowed her eyes, turning back to Serena with unrelenting scorn.

“Valentina doesn’t understand how serious her condition is, but you do. So why indulge her?”

Serena met her gaze evenly. “Because she’s not a child,” she replied, her voice calm but firm.

Araminta’s lips curled into a sneer. She had never cared for Serena—the living reminder of Alfonso’s first marriage. If it weren’t for Serena’s connection to the Vanderbilt family, she wouldn’t tolerate her existence at all.

“Alexander is back in New York now,” Araminta said, her tone dripping with condescension. “As his wife, you should stop thinking only about yourself. Focus on gaining the Vanderbilt family’s support for your father.”

Serena’s faint smile didn’t waver. “Are you blaming me for not doing enough for Dad?” she asked coolly. “Is that your opinion, or his?”

Araminta’s face darkened, her fingers tightening around her designer handbag. Before she could retort, Valentina quickly cut in, sensing the rising tension.

“Serena, could you get the medicine the doctor prescribed for me?” she asked, giving her sister a pleading look.

Serena took the opportunity to step away, walking briskly toward the pharmacy. Even as she left, Araminta’s grating voice echoed down the hallway.

“It’s been years! James doesn’t owe her anything anymore. She still holds a grudge against me because her mother worked herself to death! How is that my fault? It’s not like I made her mother unlucky!”

Serena’s grip tightened around the prescription slip in her hand. She didn’t stop walking.

The previous night had left her bruised and sore, but she had masked her discomfort well. The last thing she needed was to hear Araminta rewrite history.

After waiting in line at the pharmacy, she hesitated before heading toward the OB-GYN. She wasn’t sure what compelled her to go. Maybe it was the dull ache in her body, or maybe she just wanted confirmation that last night hadn’t left any lasting consequences.

The doctor’s exam was quick but thorough. Serena lay on the paper-covered examination table, staring at the sterile white ceiling as gloved hands prodded gently over her abdomen.

The doctor finally spoke, her voice cautious. “Miss Morales, would you like us to contact the police?”

Serena blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

The doctor’s expression softened, misinterpreting her shock. “If this wasn’t consensual, we can—”

“No,” Serena cut in quickly, embarrassment heating her cheeks. “That won’t be necessary.”

The doctor hesitated, then nodded. “You have some bruising, but nothing concerning. I’ll prescribe some anti-inflammatory medication.”

Serena barely registered the rest of the doctor’s words as she took the prescription and left.

Back in the hospital lobby, she nearly bumped into Josh Morales.

Neatly dressed in a tailored suit, his hair slicked back with practiced precision, Josh looked every bit the charming businessman. But Serena had never been fooled by appearances.

His gaze flicked to the pharmacy bag in her hand, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes before he smiled.

“Serena,” he greeted smoothly. “Here for Valentina? Or are you not feeling well?”

Serena resisted the urge to roll her eyes. His tone was too casual, too interested.

“I’ve already seen her,” she replied curtly, holding out the bag. “Give this to Araminta.”

Josh raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Why not come with me? It’s been a while since we last caught up.”

“Sorry, I’m in a hurry,” she said, brushing past him without another glance.

As she walked away, she felt the weight of his gaze lingering on her.

Josh watched her retreating figure, his smirk deepening. Anti-inflammatory meds from the OB-GYN?

His fingers tapped against his wristwatch as a satisfied expression settled over his face.

What a slut. Makes sense—her husband’s been gone for five years. Sooner or later, she’ll be mine.