Chapter 10
Serena’s small body hit the ground with a soft thud, her delicate line hand slammed down, and the skin was scraped raw,
A sharp sting shot through her palm, but it was the crumpled drawing she was clutching that sent a wave of panic through her. The rough friction of the fall had torn the edges, leaving a ragged tear on the once–perfect paper
“My mommy’s drawing, Serena cried out, her voice wavering with distress.
She barely registered the pain in her hand, too focused on the artwork she held so dearly. She quickly examined the picture, her eyes scanning for any damage to Grayson’s face on the painting, the one she’d been so certain was her brother.
Thankfully, the damage was minor–just a tear along the edge. The portrait of Grayson was still intact, and she let out a relieved breath.
Her attention shifted to the person who had shoved her. Standing above her, with a smug, triumphant look, was none other than Stella–the same girl who had slapped her hand last time.
Serena’s thoughts raced. This girl is so mean, always stopping me from talking to Sonny, always bullying me. But… Sonny seems to like this girl a loc.. Well, I’ll juu have to put up with her this time‘
With a small huff, Serena quickly pulled herself together. She stood up, brushing the dirt off her skirt, her gaze never leaving the girl who had
caused her harm.
But instead of confronting Stella, she focused on what mattered most–the drawing. She unfolded the paper carefully and held it out in front of Crayson.
“Look,” Serena uid, her voice full of determination, “this drawing is of you. It was made by Mommy. See? I didn’t lie. You really are my brother.”
She held the portrait up to Grayson’s face, her eyes wide with hope, as if this one picture could make everything fall into place.
Grayson’s eyes widened as he took in the portrait. He froze for a moment.
The face staring back at him from the paper was undeniably his own, but there was something about the smile in the drawing—so bright, so carefree—that made låm feel a pang of something unfamiliar in his chest.
It had been so long since he had smiled like that. She said Mom drew this..
Stella, standing nearby and griting her teeth, saw the flicker of recognition and interest in Grayson’s eyes. Her small fists clenched at her sides as a sharp pang of jealousy flared up.
Marissa’s words from that moming replayed in her head. “That little kid is really cute–cuter than you.”
Now, looking at Serena holding the drawing and smiling adorably, Stella felt an uncomfortable knot tighten in her chest. Grayson was clearly captivated, and she couldn’t stand it.
“Who cares about that stupid drawing?” Stella snapped, storming toward Serena with a dark glint in her eyes. In a flash, she snatched the picture out of Serena’s hands, ripping it away with a forceful yank.
Before Serena could react, Stella tore the paper in half with a vicious rip, the sound sharp and satisfying in the tense silence
With a cold smirk, Stella tossed the torn remains of the drawing into the trash can by the little fountain, watching as it landed with a sickening splat
Serena stood frozen, shock and disbelief flooding her face. Her small chest rose and fell rapidly as her mind snaggled to process what had just happened.
For a split second, everything seemed to blur–her focus entirely on the picture she had spent so much time believing in, the one she’d hoped. would connect her to the brother she desperately wanted to End
In a daze, Serena dashed toward the trash can, her hands trembling. She bent down, reaching into the filthy, smelly bin, hoping against hope to retrieve the ruined paper.
But when she pulled it out, she saw that the picture was beyond saving the edges soaked with the dirty water that had leaked from the trash can. the ink bleeding and smeared.
“You.. What did you do? Why did you np my mommy’s drawing‘ That was made by my mommy” Serena’s voice cracked, her throat tight with emotion. She had been holding back for so long, but now, the dam of her frustration and hurt was finally breaking
Saella raised her chin, an air of superiority draped over her like a cloak. Her eyes flicked over Serena with disdain, her lips curling into a sneer. “It
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Chapter 10
was just a stupid drawing. What’s the big deal?
“Your mom’s the one who drew it, right? So what? You’re a bad kid, and your mom is a bad person–a really bad person”
Stella’s mind raced with accusations. That drawing must have been a pathetic attempt by that brat’s family to get close to Sonny. They probably based it on a photo of him, using it for her to worm their way in. They’re all bad people. Just like that kid”
“You’re the bad one” Serena’s voice was high–pitched with rage. “You’re the bad, had person. You can’t say anything about my mom.”
Her small face flushed red and her eyes welled up as the flood of emotions finally spilled over. With a burst of energy, she charged at Stella. throwing her small body into the girl’s chess with all the strength she had.
Stella wasn’t prepared, not expecting such strength from a little kid like Serena. Her eyes widened in shock as Serena’s tiny body knocked her off balance. She fell to the ground with a loud thud, her palm scraping against the rough pavement.
A sharp, searing pain shot up her arm, and she cried out, her voice raw with pain. “Sonny, it hurts. My hand…it’s bleeding”
“Stella” Grayson rushed to her side, his face twisted with worry. His protective instincts flared as he glared at Serena, his expression darkening. “Get away from Stella. Don’t touch her.”
Without a second thought. Grayson shoved Serena hard, knocking her off balance. She stumbled backward, her feet scrambling for purchase. Her hands shot out to catch herself, but she almost crashed to the ground again.
“Sonny, please. You’re my brother..” Serena’s words tumbled out in desperation, her voice barely above a whisper.
Grayson’s anger exploded. His face twisted with fury as he roared, T’ve told you a hundred times, I’m not your brother. I don’t want a brat like you as my sister…
“Stella is like family to me, and you hurt her. You’re a bad seed, so just get out of here”
Stella’s sabs pierced the air, the sound rane and agonizing, and Grayson’s heart clenched in pain. He reached out to comfort her, but his anger was too much to ignore.
Seeing Serena Mep forward again, he shoved her even harder, his hands pushing her away with relentless force. Leve. Now. If you don’t, I’ll have my dad throw you ou,” Grayson shouted, his eyes flashing with determination.
hers.
Serena stood frozen, her heart breaking at his words. It was her who pushed me first, and my hand is hurt too. It hurts just as much as
Why doesn’t he care about me? Why doesn’t he understand? My mom’s drawing… She ripped it up and called my mom a bad person.
Tear welled up in her eyes, hot and relentless. The tears fell one by one, each drop heavier than the last. The injustice, the hurt, and the rejection all piled up in her chest until it felt hbe she couldn’t breathe
“I don’t want you as my brother anymore,” Serena cried, her voice thick with sorrow “I don’t need you in my
Her chest heaving with the intensity of her emotions, she looked up at Crayson with tear–streaked cheeks. The pain was unbearable, a weight she couldn’t shake. The moment felt endless, rach breath a struggle, but when Grayson reached for her again, she couldn’t stand anymore.
With the last ounce of her strength, Serena raised her hand, striking back in defiance.
The boardroom of Vanderbil Group was suffocating with tension, the air thick with unspoken words and palpable stress. The usually crisp, professional environment now felt beavy, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath.
The quarterly shareholder meeting was underway, but the mood was anything but routine. Every face in the room seemed ut, eyes flickering between their papers, yet all minds were on the man sitting at the head of the table.
Dominick, tall and imposing, sat with an air of unyielding authority. His broad shoulders and stern gaze made it clear that he commanded the room–no one dared to break his focus.
His lips were pressed tightly together, his brow furrowed, the lines of displeasure etched deep into his features. It wasn’t just a look; it was a silent warning that nothing would be colerated, especially not here, not today.
“Mr. Hale, what’s going on with Mr. Vanderbilt one of the shareholders murmured, casting a sideways glance at julian.
Dominick was the powerhouse behind Vanderbilt Group–his decisions shaped the company’s very future.
Right now, they stood on the edge of a crucial partnership with the government on a patent development project. One mistake, one wrong move,
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Chapter 10
and everything could crumble.
Julian’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. “Mr. Vanderbilt is fine. Please don’t worry,” he said, his tone smooth, almost effortless. But the
moment he spoke, he had already spotted something that made his chest tighten.
From Julian’s vantage point, he saw Dominick’s fingers hovering over his phone, the screen illuminated by the WhatsApp interface.
Dominick’s hand, large and poised, trembled slightly as his fingertips hovered over the name Paisley. He had been staring at it for far too long, the unspoken words on the other side of the screen weighing heavily on him
Julian was about to shift the conversation, to distract the shareholder with a well–timed remark, when his phone vibrated Looking at the caller ID, his pulse spiked. It was the school.
He swiped to answer, only to hear the frantic voice on the other end inform him that Grayson and Stella had been attacked on campus.
Meanwhile, across town. Paisley was wrapping up her morning in the studio, handling a few last–minute tasks. As lunchtime rolled around, her phone buzzed with a message from Emery inviting her to lunch.
Checking the time, Paisley decided to leave the remaining work to Lucy and drove over to meet her friend.
Emery, a renowned gown designer with her boutique in Harrowell’s exclusive shopping mill, had become one of Paisley’s closest friends. The store was the epitome of elegance, frequented by the city’s elite. The gowns Emery designed were works of art, each piece a testament to her extraordinary skill.
By the time Paisley arrived, the boutique was bustling with clients. Wanting to avoid interrupting her friend’s work, Paisley paused at the entrance and quickly sent her a text.
Emery’s response came almost instantly) [Babe, I’m with a VIP right now. Wait for me in the lounge:]
Before Paisley could even reply, a second message popped up: [Oh, and by the way, the gown I made for you is ready. It’s so beautiful that Eve displayed it in the main area. Co take a look when you can!
Paisley smiled softly, her heart warming at the thought. Over the years, Emery had crafted countless gowns for her, each one more stunning than the last.
Emery’s boutique i was expansive. An entire section of the store was dedicated to showcasing her most exquisite creations, a gallery of her best work -each gown an embodiment of craftsmanship and luxury.
At the very heart of the room stood Paisley’s gown, draped perfectly on a display mannequin, its flowing fabric catching the light like liquid silk. It was a masterpiece, designed with an understated elegance that whispered of quiet luxury and high society.
Before ir, stood a mother and daughter. The mother, her tone laced with a mix of pride and possessiveness, said. “My daughter really loves this gown. I don’t care what it cous. I’ll buy it”
The familiar voice was unmistakable. It made Paisley’s pulse quicken. She froze, her eyes narrowing, her lips curling into a subtle, knowing smile.
“Sorry, ma’am, this gown is a custom creation by Ms. Collins for another client. I’m afraid we can’t sell it,” the receptionist explained polinely, her voice calm, though her eyes were careful
She gestured toward the other displays with a practiced smile, adding. Perhaps you’d like to browse our ready–to–wear collection instead?”
The mother, Christina, scaffed. Her voice dripped with superiority, her gaze sweeping arrogantly over the room. “Do you know who my daughter is! These gowns won’t do for her. You’re wasting my time.”
The receptionist, ever composed, had dealt with this kind of situation many times before and met Christina’s condescending glare with a calm smile. “If the ready–made gowns aren’t to your liking, I can arrange an appointment with one of our designers. We can schedule a custom creation for you.”
“Can
1 you get us Ms. Collins Brittany asked, her voice laced with both admiration and expectation.
Most customers who came to this boutique were here for one reason- Emery Collins. While other designers in the store w
were talented, none carried the prestige or allure of Emery’s name.
The receptionist smiled apologetically, “Certainly, Ms. Collins is available, but her schedule is booked solid. She’s fully booked until October next year
Christina’s lips twisted into a disdainful sneer. “A year? Just to make one gown!”
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Brittany was also not happy about the wait. She had eyes only for the gown in the display case, clearly entranced by its beauty. “Mom, 1 don’t want to wait. I want this one,” she insisted, her voice firm.
Christina, seeing her daughter’s resolve, nodded with finality. “We’ll take it. Name your price.”
The reception’s satile remained, but it rightened with a polite refusal. T’m afraid this gown is not for sale, ma’am”
Christina, now visibly irritated, leaned forward, her tone now sharper. “Who does this gown belong to Contact her. Find out what she paid for it. I pay double, just to have it
Paisley could no longer contain the bitter hugh that escaped her lips. I never thought I’d see the day when my biological mother would be so
Back then, she wouldn’t even buy me any decent clothes for school. But of course, it all makes sere, Christina wouldn’t spend a for Brittany! The sky’s the limit.
dime on rest, bui
Christina growing more impatient by the second, urged. “Hurry up. Go call her. We’ll take it day. Name your price. Whatever it is, I’ll pay in
A few months ago. Christina wouldn’t have dared to speak like this. Hut things were different now.
In her mind, the Sullivan family now stood under the prestigious shadow of Vanderbilt Group, with Dominick–the heir to the Vanderbilt fortune -firmly backing Brittany
On top of that. Brittany was about to star as the female lead in a blockbuster project, ensuring her future social and financial worth would skyrocket. Christina’s confidence, fueled by these prospects, was unshakable.
The receptionist was visibly caught in a dilemma, unsure of how to handle the situation. She started to turn, perhaps to consult Emery, when a familiar voice put through the air, calm and authoritative. “No need to contact anyone. Tai right here.“
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