Chapter 26 Here lies Charles Gregory.
THIRD PERSON’S POV.
By the time Serena reached the chapel, the rain had eased into a thin, subtle drizzle. She was late, intentionally so. She knew exactly what would happen when the doors opened, and she wanted every eye to find her.
The double doors clicked open. A hundred pairs of eyes turned in unison. The church fell silent.
Serena stepped through the aisle as if the chapel had been waiting for her all morning. Her heels tapped the stone in a low rhythm. She timed it perfectly, arriving in the middle of Horace’s speech, taking all the attention from him.
The lace of her fascinator shadowed most of her face, but her scarlet lips were impossible to miss. She smiled,the kind of smile that said she knew the effect she was making. She sat in the front pew, crossed one gloved leg over the other, and folded her hands on her lap like a woman who’d arrived exactly when she meant to. She was the host of this service but she just made them all watch her arrival.
The priest finished his sermon, voices murmured their final prayers, and the procession moved, slow and solemn behind the coffin. Umbrellas were snapped shut, wet footsteps pressed into the grass. The choir’s hymn swelled again, low and steady as they walked out into the drizzle, past the family headstones, toward the private Gregory burial ground.
Serena kept her pace measured, her back straight. She scanned the faces around her, searching for Trisha’s in the crowd but she couldn’t find her anywhere. She swallowed hard, feeling her resolve falter just slightly. She needed Trisha here, her encouragement and confidence if she was going to deliver the eulogy the way she intended to.
“Looking for someone?”
The voice came from her side, low and familiar.
Serena turned. Damian stood there, dressed in black that looked almost careless on him, like he hadn’t tried and yet still outshone half the men present. His gaze lingered briefly on the line of her gown, the pearls at her throat, the lace that framed her face.
“You look…” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “Very composed.”
She knew what he meant and what he didn’t say.
“Thank you,” she replied, her tone neutral.
His eyes softened slightly. “How are you holding up?”
She hesitated, then shrugged. “I’ll survive.”
There was a beat of silence, filled only by the distant murmurs from the mourners ahead.
“Damian,” she said quietly, “why haven’t I seen you since the day at the flower shop?”
Something shifted in his expression. The faint ease faded, replaced by something guarded.
“I’ve been busy,” he said.
She studied him. “Anything you care to share?”
He held her gaze for a second longer than necessary, then looked ahead toward the graveyard, his jaw tightening.
“Not really,” he said finally. “Especially not at your grandfather’s funeral.”
Charles’ coffin was finally lowered into the ground. One by one, his friends stepped forward, dropping white roses into the grave in respect.
Serena went last.
She stood at the edge for a moment, the rain brushing lightly against her lashes mixing with the stream of tears running down her eyes as she stared down at the wood disappearing beneath the earth. When she let the rose fall, she didn’t rush away. She lingered, lips moving silently as she made promises meant for Charles alone.
She would not let him down.
Not now. Not ever.
Back at the house, the atmosphere shifted into something more intimate and warm. Music played. Guests spoke in hushed tones, glasses clinked gently, condolences were offered with forced sympathy.
But Serena felt none of it.
She stood near the far end of the room, her speech folded neatly in her hands, mentally rehearsing every word. This wasn’t just a eulogy anymore. It was a statement. One she needed to deliver flawlessly.
As the murmurs around her blurred into background noise, Serena lifted her chin and took a steady breath.
She was ready.
Serena stood still for a moment, she clicked her glass gently, allowing the room to settle before she spoke.
“My grandfather wasn’t a loud man,” she began softly. “He didn’t need to be.”
A few heads nodded in agreement.
“Charles Gregory believed that true influence was measured not by how many people feared you, but by how many people were willing to protect you behind your back. He believed in loyalty, in patience, in doing things the right way even when doing so came at a personal cost.”
Her fingers tightened around her notes, though her voice remained steady.
“As a child, I thought that made him gentle. As I grew older, I realized it made him powerful.”
She lifted her eyes slowly across the room and there she saw Trisha, standing at the door, beaming from ear to ear.
Serena’s confidence returned instantly.
“He taught me that if you wait long enough the truth comes out. That no matter how carefully a lie is dressed, no matter how long it is allowed to live, it eventually exposes itself. He had an unshakable faith in that.”
She smiled softly.
“But he also taught me that in cases where the truth was taking too long to unfold, I could become the unmasker”
A pause. Just long enough.
“My grandfather didn’t rush judgment. He watched. He waited. And when the time came, he trusted that the scales would balance themselves.”
Somewhere near the front, a chair shifted.
“Charles Gregory loved this family deeply, even when members of the family seemed unlovable. He believed family was sacred, something worth protecting fiercely and for those he loved, he gave EVERYTHING. Guidance, patience, forgiveness, and unwavering loyalty.”
Her lips curved into something that looked like a smile.
“But love, he often told me, does not mean blindness.”
A few guests glanced up, paying full attention now.
“It means accountability. It means understanding that actions have weight, and that no one, no matter how close, no matter how powerful is exempted from consequence.”
She lowered her gaze briefly, as if to gather herself.
“My grandfather trusted the future. He believed it would remember who stood for integrity, and who misused it. He believed that what is built on deceit cannot stand forever, and that what is stolen will always demand to be returned to its rightful owner.”
Silence pressed thick and firm against the walls.
“I promise to honor him the only way he would respect, not with anger, not with haste, but with patience. With clarity. With truth.”
Her eyes lifted again, calm and unyielding.
“And I promise that what he worked so hard to build will not be diminished or allowed in the hands of those who seek to destroy it.”
“Rest knowing, Grandpa, that I heard every lesson. I understood every warning and I will not let your faith in justice be misplaced.”
Serena moved her head gently.
“May you rest in peace.”
To the mourners, it was a beautiful tribute but to her enemies, it was a notice.
And Serena didn’t raise her voice even once. She folded her notes carefully, with her chin held high, she stepped down from the stage, the dark smirk she’d worn all day curling across her lips.
Every eye followed her, some in admiration, some in discomfort but none could deny the authority she carried.
She reached for a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and walked over to Trisha.
“They are all looking at you,” Trisha said,admiration clear in her voice.
Serena smiled faintly, lifting her glass. “Let them watch. Let them wait. I’ve only just begun.”
“Cheers.”