Chapter 47
Serena
Panic fluttered in my chest, sharp and unwelcome. Another woman. A beautiful, accomplished woman from the right family with the right credentials. Everything I wasn't.
Eleanor must have seen something in my expression because her smile widened, satisfaction evident. "There it is. Good. You should be worried."
"I—"
"Let me be perfectly clear about the stakes, Miss Vance." Eleanor's voice dropped to something colder, more dangerous. "If you fail to make Lance fall for you—if he ends up engaged to my niece instead—I will personally ensure everyone knows about our arrangement. Your employment here, your promotion, all of it will be exposed as a scheme to seduce the CEO. You'll be fired, blacklisted, and your reputation will be destroyed so thoroughly that you'll be lucky to get a job managing a gift shop."
The threat landed like a physical blow.
I stared at her, this elegant, ruthless woman who'd helped me get into this building and was now threatening to destroy me if I didn't deliver results. My hands clenched in my lap, nails biting into my palms.
But underneath the anger and fear, a thought crystallized with sudden clarity.
She doesn't want Isabella to marry Lance.
Eleanor was threatening me, yes. But she was also desperate. Desperate enough to blackmail me into seducing her stepson. Desperate enough to prevent another arranged marriage—the kind that had trapped her for years.
We were on the same side. Even if she was a ruthless, manipulative ally, she was still an ally.
And I could use that.
I set down my fork with deliberate care, meeting Eleanor's gaze steadily. "Then I suppose the gala is where I'll need to make my move. Where I'll need to secure Lance's attention so completely that no one else stands a chance."
Eleanor's expression shifted—surprise flickering across her features before being replaced by cautious approval.
"But I'll need your help," I continued, my mind already racing through possibilities. "The Lloyd family is one of New York's big four, right? Legal dynasty, financial connections, social prestige." I leaned forward. "I need to walk into that ballroom looking like I belong there. Like I'm someone worthy of standing beside Lance Lawson."
"What exactly are you asking for?"
"Resources." I met her eyes without flinching. "And a gift. Something that will make every other present at that party look like garbage. Something that will show Lance—and everyone else—that I understand his world. That I'm not just some bankrupt nobody playing dress-up."
Eleanor's lips curved into something that might have been a smile. "What did you have in mind?"
I took a breath, committing to the insane thing I was about to say. "Ten million dollars."
Eleanor's knife clattered against her plate. "Are you out of your mind?"
"Ten million dollars," I repeated calmly, as though I hadn't just asked for an amount that would take me a lifetime to earn. "To ensure your niece doesn't end up trapped in the same loveless marriage you were. To prevent another generation of Lloyd women from being sold off like assets."
Eleanor's face had gone white, then red. "You're insane—"
"How long have you been in the Lawson family, Eleanor? Ten years? Fifteen?" I kept my voice level, reasonable, even as my heart hammered against my ribs. "How much would you pay to get those years back? To not have spent them trapped in a marriage with a man who didn't love you? If someone offered you a billion dollars in exchange for just one year of freedom, wouldn't you take it?"
I picked up my water glass, taking a slow sip. "Ten million dollars is nothing compared to what you've lost. And it's a bargain if it means Isabella doesn't follow in your footsteps."
The silence stretched between us, taut as a wire.
Eleanor's hands clenched around her silverware, her knuckles white. Her jaw worked as she fought some internal battle—rage versus calculation, pride versus desperation.
Finally, she spoke through gritted teeth. "It's a loan. Not a gift."
"Of course."
"And when this is over—when Lance is yours and Isabella is safe—I want every penny back. With interest."
I smiled, genuine satisfaction flooding through me. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
Eleanor stabbed her steak with enough force to make the porcelain ring. She chewed viciously, glaring at me across the table. "You have nerve, Miss Vance. I'll give you that."
"Thank you." I picked up my fork, my appetite suddenly returning. "I'll consider that a compliment."
"Don't." But there was something almost like respect in Eleanor's eyes now. "Ten million dollars. You'd better not waste it on something frivolous."
"I won't." I met her gaze steadily. "Trust me. By the time I'm done, Lance won't be able to look at anyone else. Including your perfect niece."
Eleanor's smile was sharp and dangerous. "I'm counting on it, Miss Vance. Because if you fail—"
"I won't," I interrupted. "I can't afford to."