His enemy's daughter

Chapter 2

Serena callahan

It started with a calendar invite.

No warmth. No conversation. Just a cold little buzz on my phone screen from Vivienne’s assistant, titled: Weekly Internal PR Alignment — Mandatory. The meeting was at Callahan Pharma headquarters. And I knew immediately—it wasn’t going to be a regular check-in.

I hadn’t stepped foot in that building in weeks. Not since my father got too sick to run it himself. Not since Caleb and Vivienne quietly began making decisions like it belonged to them.

The town car picked me up at 8:00 a.m. sharp, sleek and cold. The driver didn’t say a word. The silence pressed on my chest like a boulder.

When I walked into the office, I noticed things had changed.

My father’s name—Edmund Callahan—was no longer gilded on the wall. The gold plaque had been replaced with a newer one: CP Holdings. Cold. Generic. Corporate.

I swallowed the lump rising in my throat and followed the familiar hallways, now lined with strangers in tailored suits. They didn’t smile at me. They didn’t bow. Most didn’t even look up.

I wasn’t the boss’s daughter anymore.

I was just the girl who'd lost her power—and everyone knew it.

The boardroom was already full when I entered. Caleb sat confidently at the head of the table, his smile polished, eyes unreadable. Vanessa was beside him, wearing an ivory dress too tight for a boardroom, too smug for decency. She didn’t even pretend to hide the amusement in her eyes when she saw me.

Vivienne stood near the presentation screen, flipping through slides like a CEO.

“This won’t take long,” she said crisply, without looking at me. “Let’s begin.”

I took the only empty seat—at the far end of the table, next to a junior intern. No one acknowledged me. Not even Caleb.

Vivienne clicked to the next slide. “Our family’s image is crucial to investor confidence, especially with Edmund’s health on the decline. That’s why we’ve arranged an exclusive feature in Modern Legacy Magazine—a full spread showcasing Caleb, Vanessa… and the Callahan family’s next chapter.”

I blinked.

What?

Vanessa smiled and reached for Caleb’s hand. He laced his fingers with hers like they belonged there.

My blood ran cold.

“And where do I fit into this?” I asked, voice low.

Vivienne barely paused. “You’ll be photographed too, of course. As a supportive sister. A loyal daughter. We’ll control the narrative, Serena. That’s what good daughters do.”

The words slammed into me like a truck.

“I’m not posing for a lie,” I said sharply.

Vanessa gasped. Caleb let out a breathy laugh. “Serena, don’t be dramatic.”

I stood up, heart pounding. “I’m not smiling for a man who betrayed me. And I’m not pretending my stepsister didn’t crawl into his bed behind my back!”

Silence.

The whole room froze. A few interns glanced at each other. Someone whispered. I could feel their eyes devouring the scene like vultures circling a corpse.

Vivienne calmly placed the remote down and walked toward me.

“You will sit down,” she said in a voice that was barely above a whisper, “and you will act like a Callahan. Or so help me, Serena, you will ruin everything your father built.”

I shook my head. “He would never ask me to do this.”

“But he’s not here, is he?” she replied smoothly. “He’s in a hospital bed. Clinging to life. And if this story hits the press the wrong way, investors will pull out. Stocks will crash. Your father’s last legacy… will crumble. Because of you.”

Tears stung my eyes.

Vivienne leaned in, her smile sharp as a razor. “Smile pretty, sweetheart. That’s all you’ve ever been good for.”

The room buzzed again. Caleb was already on his phone, typing. Vanessa dabbed fake tears beneath her mascara.

I turned and walked out. No one stopped me.

No one even called my name.

---

I didn’t realize I’d walked half a mile until I ended up outside a tiny coffee shop with foggy windows and a crooked “OPEN” sign. I stumbled inside, ordered the first thing I saw—an iced vanilla latte—and sat down in the farthest booth.

I could still hear Vivienne’s voice, like nails dragging down glass. “That’s all you’ve ever been good for.”

God, I hated her.

I hated them all.

For the first time in years, I felt completely alone.

I stayed there until the drink went warm in my hands. Then, I stood up and walked out.

And slammed right into a man.

My coffee flew out of my hands and exploded against a tailored charcoal suit.

“Oh my god—” I gasped. “I’m so sorry!”

He stepped back slowly, his expression unreadable. Tall. Dark-haired. Eyes like midnight. The kind of man who didn’t just own rooms—he commanded them.

He looked down at his suit, then back up at me. “You should watch where you’re going.”

His tone wasn’t angry. But it was cold. Polished. Sharp.

“I said I was sorry,” I muttered, heat crawling up my neck. “It was an accident.”

He raised a brow. “You Callahans always think an apology fixes everything.”

My breath caught.

He turned and walked away before I could say another word.

Wait—you Callahans?

I watched his broad back disappear down the street, confusion swirling in my chest.

That was Lucian Blackwood.

CEO of Blackwood enterprise. Ruthless, terrifyingly powerful… and my father’s biggest rival. The man I was always warned about.

He didn’t even flinch when I ruined his thousand-dollar suit.

Didn’t ask for my name.

Didn’t look twice.

Just… walked off like I was beneath him.

I stared at the spilled coffee puddle and muttered under my breath.

“Jerk.”

But deep inside… I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

And that smirk that said he knew exactly who I was—and didn’t give a damn.

Lucian had turned back.

I didn’t notice at first—until a hand brushed my wrist. Not a touch. A warning.

“You’re Serena Callahan,” he said. Flat. Certain.

I froze. “How do you know that?”

He looked down at me like I was a detail he’d almost forgotten. “Because your name just came up in a meeting. And it’s only fair you know what’s coming.”

My heart thudded. “What do you mean?”

Lucian leaned in—close enough to drown me in expensive cologne and something colder.

“Your family’s been building its entire future on a compound your father never fully owned. And the license?” He straightened, his voice like ice. “It expires next month.”

He turned to leave.

I grabbed his arm. “Wait—what license?”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Ask Vivienne. I’m sure she has a… version of the truth.”

Then he walked away, leaving me standing in a puddle of cold coffee, spine frozen.

Next month.

If that license expired and Lucian didn’t renew it…

Callahan Pharma would crumble.

And Vivienne had said nothing.

what is going on in this family