Game Over No Second Chances

Strands of Serena's hair brushed against the side of Hugh's neck, and it felt soft and ticklish.

His breath hitched. Serena was acting playfully, almost like she was flirting. He'd never seen this side of her before.

Hugh's gaze deepened, and his heart thudded violently. On instinct, his arm tightened around her waist as he spoke in a low voice to the attendant beside them.

"Same arrangement as usual. I'll take her for a walk to let her sober up a bit." "Yes, sir." The attendant, perceptive and discreet, quietly stepped away.

Down by the shoreline, lights shimmered across the waves. Serena's heels had been kicked off and lay far behind her.

Barefoot, she stepped into the sea. She was swaying slightly but moving with wild, carefree delight.

She still held her empty wine glass aloft like a trophy, flashing a bright, unrestrained smile at Hugh. "I haven't felt this happy in ages!"

The cold water lapped at her feet, clearing her head just a little-but her heart

was still racing, and her voice was still bubbling with joy.

She turned to Hugh with a radiant look. "The room, the foie gras at tea, the birthday celebration on the deck... Hugh, everything you prepared-I loved all of it."

Without hesitation, Hugh stepped into the icy water with shoes on. He reached for her wrist while his other hand slid to her waist.

"You're drunk."

That had to be it. She would never say such things to an ally if she were sober. She would never pull at his heart like this unless she was lost in the moment.

But before he could reel her in, Serena tightened her grip on his wrist so hard she nearly dragged him into the sea with her. In the flickering light, she met his eyes and smiled.

"I'm not drunk. Even if you did all this for the Larson family's reputation, or just to please Grandpa, I can feel it... You meant it. Every bit of it."

She leaned into him, climbing up his arm and shoulder until one hand hooked around the back of his neck for balance. Standing in the surf, she rose on her tiptoes, trying to reach those unreadable eyes.

"You're not just my ally anymore..."

Hugh's hand settled firmly on her waist. His heartbeat pounded louder than the crashing waves.

Not an ally, then what?

"You're my best friend," Serena. She brushed a stray leaf off his shoulder and patted his chest.

"I'll throw you a birthday party too. I'll get you gifts. And when people out there call you cold and heartless, I'll shut them down. You're my friend, Hugh. I won't let anyone talk badly about you."

The waves receded around their feet, as if quietly withdrawing with her words.

But Hugh's heart plummeted-fast, hard, and painfully.

"Friend". That wasn't much better than an ally.

His jaw tightened. Without a word, he pulled her into his arms and rubbed her head roughly like she was Snuggle.

"You need to rest." With that, he scooped her up with one arm, effortlessly lifting her off the ground. She kicked at the air a little, but he carried her steadily back to the villa path.

The chill of the ground helped clear her head a little. She watched Hugh, still expressionless, while instructing someone to fetch her slippers.

He was such a contradiction-cold as ice one moment, unexpectedly gentle the next, like a man who genuinely loved her.

Serena didn't understand Hugh. But

something inside her ste

urge to push her luck a little further.

She wanted to see where hisnoveldrama

boundaries really lay.

"I don't want to go back yet. I want a proper hangover cure. I want to be clear- headed while spending my birthday."

Hugh's face didn't change, but his voice was low, firm, and impossible to argue with while he slipped the shoes on Serena.

"Alright."

Serena fell silent. She stared at him, dazed. How did he make a simple 'alright' sound so commanding?

Inside the villa, a shadow slipped quietly out of Serena's room, melting into the bushes behind the house.

"Mr. Lane, we've drugged her wine. Once our people get inside... everything will go according to plan."