Page 11 of Lavish
She said it so easy. Like it was nothing.
“Understood,” I said, my voice smooth, unbothered. “I’ve got it covered.”
Through the tinted window, I watched my contractor storm out to scream at the crew again. Another mistake. Another delay.
“And I need you to run to the florist and handle the new arrangements I made. The flowers they tried to give us were poor quality. Too…common. You know what I like. Make sure they’re at the country club in an hour.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but she continued.
“Make sure you’re there early to help set up. And bring me a latte from Café L’Amour while you’re on your way too. Oat milk, sugar-free syrup. We just need the right gift to tie it all together.” Another pause. “Did I already say that?”
“Yes, Mama. I’ve got it handled.”
“Good,” Mama said, and the call ended without a goodbye.
I stared at the dark screen for a beat too long.
If I screamed, no one would hear it through the soundproof glass.
If I cried, it would smear my mascara.
My phone buzzed incessantly again. The screen was a chaotic mess of notifications—texts from my mother giving me moreorders, messages from my assistant about urgent issues at the company, Gigi sending us pictures of Walter in a sweater.
As I scrolled through the onslaught, a new text notification appeared from an unknown number. My heart skipped a beat as I read the message:We need to talk.
Fuck.
I hadn’t thought aboutherin forever. How the fuck did she get my number?
I blocked her number and quickly deleted the message, my fingers shaking a bit.
Miles entered my thoughts again. It wasn’t real love. It couldn’t have been. Not if it ended that easily. I’d made the right call. I had to.
I shoved it down. Hard. I wasn’t going anywhere. This was who I was.
This wasallI was.
I screamed uncontrollably, overwhelmed.
My fist slammed against the steering wheel, again and again. The sting was nothing compared to the mess inside me. Tears blurred my vision. My breath broke into heaving sobs, and still, I kept pounding. Until my knuckles bruised. Until my throat burned. Until I didn’t sound like myself anymore.
And then—silence.
I crumpled forward, forehead against the wheel, every muscle trembling. My temple pulsed with a sharp, familiar ache. I reached into the glove compartment with shaking fingers, fumbling until I found the bottle. No water. I didn’t care. I tossed the aspirin back and swallowed it dry, nearly choking.
Then I sat up.
I smoothed my suit jacket, wiping my face with the back of my hand.
I stared into the mirror. And when I blinked?—
Serena King stared back.
Unbothered. Untouchable. Unbreakable.
CHAPTER 2
Miles
