SECOND CHANCE TO LOVE

CHAPTER FIVE

Serena’s Pov

The night of the charity gala arrived far too quickly. The day leading up to it had been a blur of fittings, rehearsals, and lectures from Milton. Even in his absence, his shadow loomed large, with his instructions delivered through Butler Kon or written notes that detailed every minute expectation.

As I stood in front of the mirror, I hardly recognized myself. The shimmering, floor-length gown hugged my figure, its deep emerald color contrasting sharply with my pale skin. My hair was swept into an elegant updo, and a diamond necklace sparkled against my collarbone—a last-minute addition delivered by Milton, of course.

“Perfect,” Kon had said when he saw me. But perfection wasn’t what I felt. I felt like an imposter.

The gala was held in a grand ballroom that looked like it belonged in a palace. Massive crystal chandeliers illuminated the space, casting a golden glow over the crowd of elites. Waiters moved gracefully through the sea of tuxedos and gowns, balancing trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres.

I lingered near the edge of the room, clutching my flute of champagne as if it were a lifeline. Milton was late—a fact that both relieved and unsettled me. The guests chatted in tight-knit circles, laughing and exchanging pleasantries, while I stood alone, an outsider in a world I didn’t belong to.

Just as I was contemplating sneaking off to the restroom for a moment of reprieve, I heard a voice behind me.

“Serena?”

The voice was soft yet unmistakable, sending a shiver down my spine. I turned slowly, my heart racing—and there he was.

Fuss.

My first love.

I froze, unable to process the sight of him. He looked older, of course, but the boyish charm that had once made my heart flutter was still there. His dark brown hair was neatly styled, and his sharp blue eyes held the same warmth I remembered. He was dressed in a tailored black tuxedo, the picture of sophistication, but his smile—crooked and a little hesitant—was entirely familiar.

“Fuss?” My voice came out barely above a whisper, as if saying his name too loudly would shatter the fragile reality of this moment.

He smiled wider, taking a step closer. “It’s really you. I can’t believe it.”

Neither could I. The last time I had seen Fuss was two years ago, after he moved to city and refuse to answer my calls after I told him about the child I was carrying for him. He totally abandoned us, me especially.

I stared at him, my grip on the champagne flute tightening. The memories came rushing back, each one like a blade to the heart. The late-night whispers, the promises he made, and the devastating silence that followed after I told him I was pregnant.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice colder than I intended.

Fuss hesitated, his smile faltering as he picked up on the edge in my tone. “I was invited… my company is one of the sponsors.”

Of course. It made sense now. He was no longer the carefree boy who had once dreamed of traveling the world with me. He was a man now, polished, successful, and clearly thriving in a world I’d struggled to fit into.

His eyes flicked to the diamond necklace at my throat, then back to my face. “You look… incredible, Serena. I mean it.”

I forced a smile, bitterness creeping into my chest. “Thank you. I see you’ve done well for yourself.”

“I have,” he admitted, his voice cautious. “But what about you? How have you been? Are you—”

“Milton!” a voice called from across the room, cutting through our conversation like a knife. Fuss and I both turned to see Milton striding into the ballroom, his presence commanding as ever. He was dressed in a midnight-black tuxedo, his piercing gaze scanning the room until it landed on me.

His eyes flicked briefly to Fuss, narrowing in silent appraisal, before returning to me. His lips curved into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“There you are,” Milton said smoothly, closing the distance between us in long, confident strides. He placed a possessive hand on the small of my back, his touch burning through the fabric of my gown. “I was beginning to think you’d abandoned me, my dear.”

My heart sank. Milton’s timing was impeccable, as always. I tried to step away subtly, but his grip only tightened.

Fuss’s expression shifted, the warmth in his blue eyes hardening as he took in the scene before him. “My dear?” he echoed, his voice laced with an edge I didn’t quite recognize.

Milton’s smile widened, though it was anything but friendly. “Yes, Serena and I are… quite close. I don’t believe we’ve met. Milton Harrington.” He extended a hand toward Fuss, his tone dripping with faux politeness.

Fuss hesitated for a fraction of a second before taking the offered hand. “Fuss Don,” he replied curtly, his gaze never leaving mine.

Milton’s grip on his hand lingered a moment too long, a silent battle of dominance playing out between them. When he finally released it, his smile was razor-sharp. “Ah, Don. The up-and-coming tech innovator. I’ve heard of you. Serena, you failed to mention you had such accomplished friends.”

I swallowed hard, caught between the two men. “We… go way back.”

“Is that so?” Milton asked, his tone feigning curiosity. His eyes glinted with something darker. “Well, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to catch up. But for now, my dear, we have a few people to greet. Shall we?”

His question wasn’t a request. He guided me away before I could protest, leaving Fuss standing alone, his gaze burning into my back.

As we moved through the crowd, Milton leaned down, his breath brushing against my ear. “Care to explain who he is and why he was looking at you like that?”

I stiffened, my pulse pounding in my ears. “He’s no one,” I lied, knowing full well that Milton wouldn’t let this go.

But as we approached a circle of high-profile guests, Milton’s expression shifted back to his public facade of charm and charisma. He greeted them warmly, his grip on me loosening slightly as he became engrossed in conversation.

I used the opportunity to glance back at Fuss, only to find him watching me intently. And that’s when I saw it—the flicker of something in his eyes that sent a chill down my spine.

Regret? Guilt? Or something far more dangerous?

I didn’t have time to dwell on it because the next words out of Milton’s mouth stopped me cold.

“…and of course, I’m thrilled to announce the upcoming launch of Harrington Technologies’ partnership with Gallagher Enterprises.”

My blood ran cold. Fuss wasn’t just a ghost from my past. He was about to become entangled in my present—and Milton’s world.