Chapter 2

The next morning, Ethan summoned Sarah Bell to his study. He needed to see her, to confront her, even if it was pointless.

She entered, her face composed, her posture perfect. "Mr. Hayes. You sent for me."

"Sarah," he began, then corrected himself, a bitter taste in his mouth. "Or is it Seraphina Vance now?"

Not a flicker of surprise in her cool blue eyes. "You overheard." It wasn't a question.

"I did," Ethan said, his voice tight. "Quite the performance. Playing the dutiful bodyguard while you were slumming it, I suppose. All to get close to Liam."

"My reasons are my own," she stated, her tone even.

"Your reasons?" Ethan laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. "You think Liam is some kind of saint? You think he's worthy of the great Seraphina Vance?"

"He is kind. I've seen it," she said, a hint of defensiveness in her voice now. "And he's not like you."

The implication stung, sharp and deep. "No, he's not like me. I don't manipulate people by pretending to be someone I'm not."

"And what do you do, Ethan?" she asked, her gaze unwavering. "Make deals to marry women in comas? Sell off your bodyguard like a piece of property?"

He flinched. She knew how to hit back. "That was before I knew who you really were. Before I knew I was just a pawn in your game too."

"You were always a pawn in someone's game, Ethan," she said, not unkindly, but with a brutal honesty. "Your father's, now perhaps mine. It seems to be your role."

His anger flared. "Get out."

She inclined her head slightly. "As you wish. Will there be anything else?"

The sheer audacity, the cold control. He wanted to rage, to break something, to make her feel even a fraction of the pain he felt. Instead, an idea, cold and cruel, formed in his mind.

"Actually, yes," he said, his voice dangerously soft. "There's the annual Children's Foundation Gala in the Hamptons tonight. My father insists I attend. You'll accompany me."

She looked at him, a slight frown. "Liam will be there."

"Precisely," Ethan said, a grim satisfaction spreading through him. "You wouldn't want to miss an opportunity to be near him, would you, Seraphina? And I wouldn't want to deprive myself of your... expert protection."

He wanted her to see Liam for who he was, though he doubted she would. He also wanted to inflict some pain, to make her watch him, Ethan, assert himself, even if it was a hollow victory.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Very well, Ethan."

She still called him Ethan, not Mr. Hayes. A small, almost imperceptible shift. Or maybe he was just imagining it.

The Hamptons gala was a sea of glittering gowns and expensive suits. Fake smiles and calculated conversations. Ethan hated these events. Liam was already there, holding court, his arm casually draped around a blonde socialite whose laughter was too loud.

Ethan spotted a vintage Patek Philippe watch on display for the charity auction, a piece his mother had once admired. A wave of nostalgia, sharp and painful, hit him. He decided he wanted it.

The bidding started. Ethan made his bid. A few others joined, then dropped out. Then, Liam' s voice, smooth and mocking, cut through the room.

"Well, well, if it isn't my dear brother, showing some taste for once. I think I'll take that." Liam raised his paddle, easily outbidding Ethan. His friends snickered.

Ethan felt a familiar surge of anger. Liam always had to have what Ethan wanted, always had to rub his nose in it.

"The bid is with Mr. Liam Hayes," the auctioneer announced.

Ethan clenched his jaw. He could afford it now, easily. The first installment from Marcus had cleared. He raised his paddle again, doubling Liam's bid.

A surprised murmur went through the crowd. Liam looked momentarily taken aback, then his expression hardened. He was about to bid again, his face flushed, when a new voice, calm and authoritative, spoke from the side of the room.

"Miss Vance has instructed me to inform the auctioneer that any items Mr. Liam Hayes expresses an interest in this evening are to be acquired for him, at any cost. Please add them to her account."

It was Mr. Alistair Finch, Sera's aide, the man she' d spoken to on the phone. He stood there, impeccably dressed, radiating quiet power.

The room fell silent. All eyes turned to Liam, then to Ethan. Liam' s surprise morphed into a smug, triumphant grin. He preened under the attention, nodding graciously as if he deserved this largesse.

Ethan felt a cold wave of humiliation wash over him. Sera. Or Seraphina. She was doing this. Publicly. To elevate Liam, to put Ethan in his place. He looked for her and found her standing near the edge of the room, her gaze fixed on Liam, an expression of undisguised adoration on her face. She didn' t even glance at Ethan.

The watch, his mother' s memory, all of it felt tainted, cheapened. He had the money, but she had the power, and she was using it to show him, and everyone else, who she valued.

He turned and walked out, the whispers and curious stares following him like a physical weight. The victory he' d sought had turned into another bitter defeat. And Sarah, no, Seraphina, had been the one to deliver the blow, her eyes only for Liam.