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One Week Later.
Serena sat in a temporary office at the Kensington Foundation. She was reviewing grant applications, but her mind was elsewhere.
Her phone buzzed on the desk.
Julian Sterling.
She ignored it.
It buzzed again. And again.
She picked it up and blocked the number.
A knock at the door. Her lawyer, Mr. Finch, poked his head in. He looked nervous.
"Miss Kensington? Mr. Sterling is in the lobby. Security is holding him, but he's making a scene. He says it's a medical emergency regarding his grandfather."
Serena froze.
Arthur. The only Sterling who had ever treated her with kindness. The man who used to sneak her chocolates when Julian's mother called her fat. The man who had tried to stop the bullying.
"Is he..." Serena started.
"He's in the ICU at Mount Sinai. Severe asthma attack complicating his COPD. He's asking for you. Specifically you."
Serena closed her eyes. She felt the conflict warring in her chest. Resentment vs. Duty. Hate vs. Love.
She stood up. She grabbed her coat.
"I'll go," she said coldly. "But I go as a visitor. Not as his granddaughter-in-law."
She went down to the lobby. Julian was pacing near the security desk. He looked disheveled. His tie was crooked, his eyes bloodshot. He hadn't slept.
When he saw her, he stopped. He looked at her with a mixture of awe and desperation.
"Serena," he breathed.
"Where is the car?" she asked, cutting him off.
They drove to Mount Sinai in his Aston Martin. The silence in the car was suffocating.
"I didn't know," Julian said finally. His voice was tight. "I didn't know you were... capable of what you did at the Gala."
"There is a lot you don't know," Serena said, staring out the window. "Drive faster."
They arrived at the VIP wing of the hospital.
The Sterling family was gathered in the waiting room. Julian's mother, a hawk-faced woman named Beatrice, glared at Serena.
"What is she doing here?" Beatrice hissed. "The runaway."
"She is here because Grandfather asked for her," Julian snapped. "Sit down, Mother."
Serena ignored them all. She walked into the ICU room.
Arthur Sterling lay in the bed, hooked up to a ventilator and monitors. He looked small, frail. His skin was papery.
He opened his eyes when she entered. A weak smile touched his lips.
"Serena..." he wheezed.
Serena took his hand. It was cold. "I'm here, Arthur."
He pointed a shaking finger to the tray table. There was a legal document there.
"Read..." he gasped.
Serena picked it up. It was a codicil to his will. A modification.
In the event of my death, the controlling shares of Sterling Industries will pass to my grandson, Julian Sterling, ONLY if he remains legally married to Serena Vance for a period of one year following my passing. If they are divorced prior to this date, the shares will be liquidated and donated to charity.
Serena read it twice. Her blood ran cold.
"Arthur," she whispered. "You can't do this. We... we aren't together."
"But... married," Arthur wheezed. He looked at Julian. "You... never filed."
Serena turned to Julian slowly. Her eyes narrowed. "What did he say?"
Julian looked uncomfortable. He rubbed the back of his neck. "I... I didn't file the final papers. I held them. I wanted to find you first. So, technically... legally... we are still married."
Serena felt like slapping him. Three years. She had thought she was free.
"Don't... leave... him," Arthur gasped, his grip on her hand tightening. "He needs... you. To be... human."
The monitors began to beep faster. His heart rate was spiking from the stress.
"Promise," Arthur gasped. "Promise... or I... give up."
Serena looked at the old man. He was using his dying breath to manipulate her. But she knew if she refused, the stress might kill him right now.
She looked at Julian, who looked as trapped as she was. Without the company, he was nothing.
"Fine," Serena said through gritted teeth. "I promise. We will stay married for now."
Arthur let out a long breath. His vitals stabilized. He closed his eyes.
Serena turned to Julian. Her eyes were shards of ice.
"We need to talk," she hissed. "Outside."