Who's This Sad Little Stray?

Three days ago, Camilla tracked down Serena in the hallway.

"You heard Damian is gearing up to propose, right?" Camilla said. Her gorgeous eyes sparkled with raw venom and a nasty edge. "Rumor has it the family was ready to fast-track an engagement bash, but Damian? He is all about the big moment. Wants to hear you say 'yes' with his own ears. Man, he is going all out, huh?"

"What is your point?" Serena shot back, keeping her expression cool as ice.

Camilla's lips curled into a vicious smirk. "My point? Why does a trainwreck like you get to be happy, Serena? Wanna make a bet?" she sneered, stepping closer. "I am calling it right now. This proposal is going to crash and burn in exactly three days."

Serena locked eyes with her cousin. Everyone else saw Camilla as a sweet, classy angel, but no one caught the poison in her gaze like Serena did. Sure, Camilla could have nixed the proposal with a single word, but she was playing the long game. She waited for the perfect moment to yank the rug out from under Serena, just like always.

Now, gripping her phone with that two-word text glowing on the screen, Serena knew Camilla’s malicious prophecy had flawlessly come true. The proposal was a disaster.

Gia had bolted after a frantic call from her family, her face pale as a ghost. She offered to drop Serena off, but Serena overheard the call was an emergency about Gia's mother and told her to go. With the private room cleared out, Serena stood alone, staring at the drooping flowers and spilled wine. Thinking back on the night's pathetic setup, she let out a dry, bitter chuckle.

It was late, and the streets were dead quiet. Instead of heading back to an empty house, she wandered along the river, letting the biting, chilly April breeze clear her mind.

It did not take long to sense something was wrong. Her pulse kicked up a notch.

Someone was tailing her.

She lifted her phone, faking a selfie, and caught a glimpse of a few men closing in behind her in the shadows. She picked up her pace, but they stayed right on her tail.

Her fingers slipped on the screen. She accidentally triggered the emergency contact Damian had set up a year ago. Back then, she had gotten into it with some sleaze hitting on a girl, snapped his arm, and landed in the police station. Damian bailed her out, nagging her the whole time about being too reckless. He made himself her emergency contact, telling her to call him if she was ever in a jam—no matter when, no matter where, he would show up.

This was the first time she actually needed it.

"Serena?" Damian's exhausted voice came through the speaker.

He was already at the hospital. The car crash was not serious, but Camilla—born premature and delicate—had been rattled. Only Damian could calm her down. The Vance family camped out in the waiting room, and he had just gotten Camilla to doze off when the phone rang, stirring her awake.

"Damian, someone is following me," Serena whispered urgently into the dark.

A long silence followed. "Serena, I cannot do this tonight. Quit messing with me."

He thought she was pulling a manipulative, jealous fast one just to drag him away from Camilla.

Corinne, Serena's mother, overheard the exchange and snatched the phone. Her usual warm face was now stormy with rage. "Serena! Your sister is in the hospital, and you cannot even bother to show up. Now you are out stirring up trouble in the middle of the night, making up lies?"

Corinne's furious voice echoed through the cold air. "When are you going to act your age? Nobody is leaving Camilla to deal with your crap tonight. Get a grip!"

Click. The line went dead.

Back at the hospital, Camilla lay pale and fragile on the bed. "Mom, do not be mad," she spoke softly. "What if Serena is really in trouble?"

Corinne handed the phone back to Damian, her face heavy with disappointment. "Trouble? The only trouble she has got is trying to steal the spotlight from you when you need us most. This is not her first stunt."

Their judgment was blinded by a dark incident from ninth grade. Serena had called home one night after study hall, swearing she had been kidnapped and begging the whole family to come save her. That same night, Camilla suffered a medical crisis, and the family was already panicking. When they heard Serena's news, Corinne nearly collapsed from the stress. They rushed to a construction site near her school with the cash she demanded, only to find Serena strolling out, totally fine, without a mark on her. No kidnappers. Nothing.

Meanwhile, back home, Camilla had passed out alone on the floor.

Turned out, it was all a nasty prank by Serena. The kidnapping was fake. Serena had bribed the maid to ignore Camilla, knowing she would be helpless when her condition flared up. By the time they got Camilla to the hospital, the doctors said she barely made it.

Furious, Serena's father whipped her so hard she landed in the hospital for a month. Even then, she refused to apologize to Camilla. Corinne sighed, wondering when her once-sweet little girl had turned so wild and defiant.

Damian knew about that drama, too. The Vance family had been pissed, focused only on Camilla. During Serena's hospital stay, they hired a nurse and did not visit once. Damian was the only one who snuck in after school, bringing her snacks and telling dumb jokes to make her smile.

Damian shrugged off the call. He figured she was just throwing a fit because he bailed on the proposal halfway through. He did not have the energy to entertain her games. He would smooth things over tomorrow when she cooled off.

He set his phone aside and checked Camilla's forehead. "Fever is down. Get some sleep, alright?"

Camilla, half-hidden under the blankets, peeked out with worried eyes. "Damian, I am so sorry about the proposal. It is all my fault. If I was not such a mess, I would not be dragging you down."

"Do not talk like that," Damian said gently. "The crash was not on you. And you are never a burden."

"Damian…" Her voice faded.

"Sleep."

She closed her eyes, a peaceful, deeply satisfied smile spreading across her face. Tonight, she would drift off into sweet dreams.

Back out in the biting April breeze, the man on her tail was not in any hurry. The thugs steered her toward the oppressive darkness of an industrial alley on purpose, playing with her like a cornered stray.

Serena sprinted, her dead phone pressed to her ear. Damian's icy tone and her mother's rage crackled in her memory, but after enduring so many letdowns, the betrayal barely even stung anymore. It just left her chest hollow, like someone had carved out a chunk of her heart.

She slid to a stop under a gnarled tree, staring blankly at a jagged rock. Her face remained unreadable. They underestimated their prey.

Ever since that traumatic ninth-grade disaster, Serena had secretly mastered Muay Thai and self-defense. She learned early on that nobody would ever have her back but herself.

Fifteen minutes later, the secluded area transformed into pure, bloody chaos.

Serena ducked a wild swing, driving her elbow upward to crush a jawbone. She caught a wrist, pivoting her hips to throw the man over her shoulder, letting his spine crack against the pavement. The gang swarmed her, but she moved with ruthless precision. She blocked a desperate hook, grabbed the attacker by the collar, and drove her knee squarely into his ribs. The impact echoed through the alley. Fists shattered noses. Another man rushed her from behind, and she spun on her heel, landing a kick that snapped his leg.

The pack of thugs lay scattered across the concrete. They groaned in agony, clutching shattered arms, busted legs, and heads split open like overripe fruit smashed into the gritty ground.

Drained from the massive adrenaline drop, Serena stumbled back. She flopped onto her back on the freezing concrete, distancing herself from the carnage. Her lungs burned. Her blood-streaked hand shakily pulled out her phone and dialed 911.

She did not speak. She just left the line open as she stared blankly up into the empty, indifferent night sky, lost in a daze.

A scraping sound broke the silence.

An idiotic thug with a broken hand attempted to creep up on her blind side. He gritted his teeth, raising his uninjured fist to strike.

Serena caught his movement in her periphery. She rolled her shoulders, immediately readying her bruised fists for another strike. She braced her legs, preparing to snap his other limb.

But before she could even move a muscle, a brutal, bone-crushing kick materialized out of nowhere.

The strike caught the sneaking thug right in the chest. It sent him flying across the alley, his body skidding lifelessly into the shadows.

Serena blinked, her fists still raised. A stupidly gorgeous, masculine face leaned directly into her line of view, looming over her battered form. The man blocked out the faint glow of the streetlamp. He looked down at the scattered bodies groaning on the concrete, then back at her. A sly, dangerous grin spread across his sharp features.

"Well, hell. Who's this little scrapper?"