Chapter 25 The funeral
THIRD PERSON'S POV.
The morning of Charles’ funeral arrived covered in rain. It had poured through the night and even as dawn broke the downpour showed no sign of easing. Good thing Serena had planned an indoor service.
For the past few days she and Trisha have been locked in strategy mode scheming and trying to engineer a way to push Damian into proposing. The night before, they had fallen asleep mid-search, sprawled across the bed, laptops and documents scattered around them, after combing through Damian’s company records in hopes of finding the perfect leverage something strong enough to compel him to propose.
Originally, Serena had wanted to move carefully, to let things unfold naturally. But ever since the last message from her anonymous tipster, her mind had been in chaos.
HORACE AND CLARA ARE UNTO YOU.
The message hadn’t explained anything. No details. No warning beyond those four chilling words. Yet Serena understood the urgency behind them. She didn’t have time to wait for Damian to fall in love with her.
“Serenaaa..,” Trisha drawled,snapping her fingers in front of her face.
“What?” Serena replied, distracted.
“I’ve been talking to you for over a minute. Where’s your mind at?”
“I’m sorry,Trish,” she sighed, I can’t get that message out of my head”
Trisha nodded, understanding. She paused, then said thoughtfully, “Do you remember anything Damian has mentioned, anything at all that could help us?”
“Not really, we haven’t spoken about anything important.”
Serena lifted a few documents from the bed, scanning them again, her frustration growing.
“Wait, the night I slept at his place he mentioned something about his board members trying to get rid of him, although I don’t see how that could possibly help us.”
Trisha went silent.
For a long moment, she said nothing, just stared into space. “Hmm,so his position is being threatened,” she murmured under her breath.
Then suddenly, she sprang to her feet. “Rena,” she said, eyes brightening. “I think I have an idea.”
“Really? what is it?” Serena asked, standing up too.
“Not yet.” Trisha was already pulling out her phone, typing furiously. “I need confirmation first.”
She shoved a few things into her handbag hurriedly.
“Where are you going?” Serena asked.
“I need to meet up with someone. I promise to explain everything when I get back. But if I’m right….” She grabbed Serena’s hands softly, “then this could be exactly the leverage we’ve been looking for.”
Serena’s chest tightened, “Wait, you are not staying for grandpa’s funeral?”
The hurt was evident in her voice. Trisha was the only true ally she had and she needed her by her side if she was going to get through today.
“Of course I am,” Trisha said quickly, wrapping her in a brief hug. “I’ll be a little late but I’ll definitely be here.”
She pulled away just as Serena opened her mouth to speak.
“Okay, but it’s raining, are you going to…”
The door closed before she could finish.
Serena sighed and decided to go downstairs and check on the final preparations for the service.
Horace was already there.
She froze, instinctively taking in the scene before her. She had been careful with the guest list,only people who had truly mattered to Charles had received invitations. Yet waiters were moving around the room adding rows of chairs and stacking extra champagne bottles.
“What’s going on?” she asked as she approached Horace. Something told her this had his fingerprints all over it.
He didn’t turn to face her, “Is that how you greet your father good morning?”
“I asked what was going on,” she kept her expression blank.
“We are making a few minor adjustments to your little soirée”
Serena clenched her fists, her breathing pattern changing instantly. “It’s not a soirée, it’s a funeral service. And you have no right to change anything about it.” She said firmly.
“No right?” He finally looked at her, amusement glinting in his eyes. “Serena, I have every right in the world, this is my house after…”
“No,” she cut him off sharply. “This is our house. And you said you were going to let me handle his funeral.”
“Well, that was when I thought you were capable of handling it. You obviously failed.” He turned away dismissively.
“What did you do?” She asked.
“I expanded the guest list.” He smiled. “i invited all the important people in the city.”
She had told him. Explicitly. Charles had wanted a quiet procession,dignified and private.
“I warned you not to,” she said evenly. “Grandpa wanted this to be small.”
“And what on earth makes you think that YOU can tell ME what to do?”
For a moment, Serena said nothing.
Then, slowly,carefully she replied, “You’re going to wish you hadn’t done that.”
Horace would never admit it but something about the way she said it unsettled him. The calm. The dark edge beneath her voice, the hairs at the back of his neck lifted as she walked away.
She had just stepped into the living room when she stopped again.
Standing near the entrance was someone she hadn’t expected to see, especially not this early.
Jonathan.
She had been avoiding his calls since the night at the bar.
Moving quickly toward him, she lowered her voice, “Jonathan what are you doing here?”
He looked surprised to see her, almost scared. Then shakily replied “What do you mean? I’m here to see you.”
She studied him, it was raining cats and dogs outside yet he was completely dry, even his shoes were dry, that means he wasn’t coming from outside, he’d been in the house before the rain started, which was last night.
“You came in the rain?” She asked.
“Of course I did.”
He was lying.
In her past life, Serena had begged him to come be with her that morning before the funeral procession and he had refused. Said it was a sacred moment meant only for her and her family.
Now she understood why.
He had probably refused to be with her back then because he was too busy cuddling with her sister. Which was the same thing he was doing right now.
She swallowed the anger rising up her throat, careful not to play her cards too early.
Smiling, she said “but you can’t be here Jonathan, my dad is right across the hall.”
She Watched his expression closely.
He didn’t flinch.
He wasn’t afraid of her father seeing him and that could only mean one thing,
Horace knew.
Which meant he and Clara had revealed their relationship to him.
Her heart stopped.
The note, HORACE AND CLARA ARE ON TO YOU.
The message finally made sense. They’d noticed her withdrawal, her indifference toward Jonathan and the panic had made them rush to share their with Horace.
Which meant that Clara and Jonathan were planning to get married soon.
“I don’t care who sees me,” Jonathan said softly, taking her hands. “I want to be here for you in the most difficult moment of your life.”
She smiled, a tight lipped smile. “I’m so happy you are here.”
Once she was satisfied with the arrangements Serena returned upstairs to change.
Horace was right after all, this wasn’t just a funeral.
This was going to be her official introduction to Monterra Elite’s.
She chose a black Dolce & Gabbana gown that clung to her frame like a second skin. Her mother’s pearls rested at her throat. Lace gloves traced a line from her fingers to her elbows. Matte black Jimmy Choo heels completed the look.
When she looked at her reflection, she saw nothing soft left in her.
Only refinement and class.
She picked up her speech. It had once been a warm eulogy but after Horace’s latest stunt, this new speech was anything but heart warming.
Clutching her purse, she reached for her final accessory: a black beaded net fascinator.
At the door, she paused, turned, and met her reflection one last time.
Then she walked out.
That morning, Serena Gregory didn’t leave her room as a grieving granddaughter Instead,She walked out as her family’s worst nightmare.