No Breakup, No Wedding

Serena let out a harsh, echoing snort that cut straight through Silas’s ridiculous defense. She crossed her arms, her eyes sweeping over the sickening tableau before her.

"Yeah, right," she mocked, her voice dripping with venom. "In a room full of people, she is somehow the only one fragile enough to practically climb into my boyfriend's arms."

She fixed her cold stare on Damian. "Damian is such a saint, huh? He never seems to hug anyone else in distress, just his precious future sister-in-law. If the two of you hopped into bed right now, Silas would probably blame the bad lighting. Honestly, my heart has had enough of the disrespect. You two are a match made in a dumpster."

Damian flinched as if struck. He dropped Camilla’s arm in a rush, stepping back so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet. The verbal blow of being lumped into the same trash heap as Camilla stung deeper than he expected.

"Serena, you are way off," Damian stammered, fumbling for a pathetic excuse. "There is a reason for this. Let me explain—"

"Pass," Serena snapped, cutting him off with a sharp wave of her hand. "Do you ever count how many times you have fed me that exact same line?"

He opened his mouth, but the words died in his throat. No matter what his reasons were, the pattern remained identical. He always chose Camilla’s side in every single conflict, leaving Serena stranded high and dry.

Corinne stepped forward, rushing to pivot the escalating conversation away from the ugly truth. "What about the engagement party?" she asked, her tone strained with forced normalcy. "We need to handle the logistics."

Serena’s ensuing laugh was pure ice. "Engagement party? Need I remind this family that there was not even a real proposal the other night? What engagement are you talking about?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Corinne gasped, her meticulously painted lips parting in shock.

While Damian and the rest of the Vance family stared in stunned silence, Serena kept her dead, hollow eyes locked on the man she once loved. She stated the ultimatum she had delivered during that half-baked, chaotic event.

"Let me make it crystal clear," Serena declared. "I told you yesterday that if you bailed on me to run to Camilla, we were done. So, Damian, we are over. I am done."

A sudden spike of panic seized Damian’s chest, twisting his breath into a painful knot. His jaw clenched tight. "No way," he demanded, his voice thick with desperation. "I am not letting you throw this away. You are just mad right now. Take the words back. You do not mean it."

He refused to accept it. They shared a profound twenty-year history. She had trailed after him since they were toddlers. A bond that deep could not simply end over one botched night.

Serena ignored his pleading gaze and turned her attention back to Corinne. "I have said my piece. We are finished. If you do not want to host a massive gala with a missing bride, cancel the catering."

"This is pure nonsense!" Arthur roared, stepping out from the periphery. He pointed a furious finger at her, accusing her of treating the massive Hayes-Vance wedding alliance like a petty, childish game. "The corporate merger has been set for years! You were dying to marry him, and now you want to bail?"

Serena’s gaze turned to cutting ice. She stared down her furious family members without a flinch. "If you are so set on the business alliance, you should marry him yourselves." She paused for dramatic effect, letting the silence stretch before her eyes purposefully flicked over to the trembling woman standing nearby. "Or... you have got another daughter, right?"

"Serena!" Damian’s voice cracked in the quiet lobby. "You know I love you!"

She brushed off his desperate, public declarations without a second thought. "Whatever," she scoffed. "I am done with this sitcom. Catch you later. Or better yet, never."

Spinning gracefully on her heel, Serena strutted right out of the station. She pushed through the heavy glass doors without casting a single backward glance.

"Serena!" Damian urged himself forward, moving to chase after her fading figure.

Before he could take a third step, Camilla’s delicate hand clamped around his bicep. Playing the role of the soft, pitiful victim, she let a stray tear slip down her cheek.

"This is all my fault," Camilla wept softly, her voice wavering with practiced guilt. "If I had not gotten into that accident, none of this drama would be happening. She is just throwing a dramatic bluff to get your attention, Damian. Chasing her now is pointless. Give her space, and we can talk to her together once she calms down."

Corinne rushed over, agreeing with the narrative. She patted Camilla’s trembling hand. "Do not sweat it, Damian," Corinne soothed. "She is merely throwing another of her classic tantrums. She has chased you for twenty years. She will come crawling back once she cools off."

Silas scoffed, nodding in agreement. "She has been glued to you forever. There is no way she is actually walking away from the wedding."

Damian reluctantly let their soothing words hold him back in the lobby. He watched the street outside, though a dark, heavy knot twisted viciously in his gut.

The past three years had been rough on everyone. Serena had originally planned a group sailing trip to clear her head. Camilla and her devoted boyfriend had tagged along. When a freak storm hit, Camilla’s boyfriend tragically died saving Damian’s life. The horrific event left Camilla with severe trauma and convenient memory issues. She frequently suffered episodes where she mistakenly treated Damian like her dead lover. Last night's car crash had triggered another one, and Corinne had called him to fix it right in the middle of his proposal to Serena.

He ran a hand through his hair, holding onto the hope that Serena was genuinely just blowing off steam. They had promised never to throw the word 'breakup' around lightly. He resolved to consult Camilla’s therapist first thing in the morning to get some boundaries set. In his mind, he was certain that Serena was still his ultimate endgame.

Meanwhile, as Damian stared blankly at the floor, Camilla watched the precinct doors close behind Serena. A sly, triumphant spark ignited in her tear-filled eyes. She ducked her head to hide the smirk forming on her lips, more than happy to continue stirring the toxic pot.

An hour later, the exhausted Vance family slowly gathered their coats and belongings, finally preparing to leave the oppressive atmosphere of the police station.

Just as Arthur zipped his jacket, a swaggering rookie cop walked into the lobby, carrying a stack of fresh clipboards. He flipped through a few pages, recognizing a familiar name on the finalized paperwork. He paused, looking up at the wealthy group gathered near the exit.

"Serena?" the rookie cop loudly asked, dropping a curveball into the quiet room. "Wasn't she just here last night? Back for an encore already?"

Arthur and Declan instantly bristled with defensive anger. The mention of Serena being at the station the previous night rubbed them the wrong way. They immediately assumed she was still stuck in her notorious rebel phase and had simply landed herself in more legal trouble.

"That little troublemaker," Arthur growled, his jaw tightening. "What did she get herself into now?"

Declan scoffed, adjusting his cuffs. "Is she moving into the precinct? She just cannot stay out of trouble."

Sensing the shift in the room, Camilla stoked the fire. She reached out, gently urging her father to calm down while layering on the faux concern. "Hey, Dad, take a breath," she murmured softly. "We do not know the whole story yet. Serena is young. She gets a bit wild sometimes."

"Wild?" Arthur shot back. "If she had half your sense, I would sleep better at night."

Fed up with their nasty assumptions, the rookie cop snapped.

"Whoa, time out!" he called out, his voice echoing off the tile walls. He marched over, correcting their narrative. "Nobody said she got nabbed for messing up."

The family blinked, their irritated expressions faltering.

The cop crossed his arms, laying out the ugly truth. "Your girl got jumped by a gang of violent creeps in a dark alley last night. She took a serious physical hit. Scared senseless, too."

A heavy silence descended on the group.

Shaking his head in pure disbelief, the young officer muttered, loud enough for every single one of them to hear. "Her arm was wrapped in bandages. I will tell you this much—the complete stranger who intervened and brought her in cared significantly more about her than her own wealthy flesh and blood."

The harsh, unvarnished words slapped the Vances like a physical blow. They froze in place, rooted to the lobby floor as if the air had been sucked from the room.

Their minds suddenly recalled the sight of Serena just an hour ago. The shockingly pale hue of her face. The defensive, guarded posture she held the entire time. The faint, dark bruises creeping along her skin that they had ignored.

They had been so wrapped up in their own fabricated drama, obsessing over Camilla's supposed fragile state and the engagement party logistics, that no one had bothered to check if Serena was actually okay.

Guilt, sharp and suffocating, began to seep into the cracks of their indignation. They had abandoned her. They had let her walk out into the cold night without a single glance back, oblivious to the fact that she had just survived a nightmare.

Corinne’s perfectly manicured hands began to tremble. She clutched her designer purse against her chest, her carefully constructed composure cracking. The lingering, heavy silence stretched between the family members, forcing them to confront the horrifying reality that they had abandoned Serena to violent thugs.

"She is hurt?" Corinne asked, her voice wavering unsteadily as she stared at the young officer. "Is... is it bad?"

Yet, even as the reality finally sank in, Corinne’s mind scrambled to protect her own ego. She tried to internally justify her cruel behavior, staring blankly at the precinct doors.

*Would I even be this hard on her?* Corinne silently wondered, swallowing the lump in her throat. *Would I treat my own biological daughter this way if she was not always so damn rebellious?*