Chapter 40
She’d lived in Riverbend City for three years. There was no way Garry had never once set foot in Riverbend during all that time; he just never cared enough to
notice her.
To the Powers family, she’d always been nothing more than a stray cat or dog Sheridan brought home-something to be temporarily housed until its fate was decided.
When she kept quiet and stayed out of their way, she made little impact on their lives.
But now, the stray had bitten someone. Diana Yates couldn’t handle the aftermath, so Garry finally had to step in.
“Mr. Powers, let me be clear,” Seren said. “In these three years, I owe nothing to your family. I don’t care about status or money. I just want us to part with dignity when the time comes. Let’s not make this harder than it needs to be p>
Her voice rose on the last sentence, a deliberate reminder to Garry: she wasn’t some pushover, ripe for the taking. If they pushed her too far, she could just as easily take that last shred of dignity off the table.
A loud bang punctuated the end of their call-then the line went dead.
Seren stared at her phone, listening to the relentless tone of the disconnected call. She could imagine Garry’s fury as he hurled his phone across the room, and for the first time in years, she felt a wave of vindication. After years of swallowing her pride, finally, she’d stood her ground.
She knew perfectly well Garry would be livid at her words, but she said them anyway.
Why shouldn’t she? They’d always done as they pleased with no regard for her feelings-why should she keep worrying about theirs?
She’d simply paid them back in kind.
And honestly, it was better for everyone to lay the cards on the table.
After this, the Powers family-and Sheridan-would probably think twice before shamelessly bothering her again.
That night, she slept in a warm, comfortable bed, the distant river lights flickering like tiny lanterns on the horizon. The city’s soft glow painted the night, gentle and dreamlike.
With her head on the pillow, serenaded by the city lights, Seren slept better than she had in ages.
The next morning, she woke early, feeling refreshed and clear-headed. Mornings were perfect for painting-her mind sharp, the house quiet. She decided to head to The Antiquarian’s Gallery to get some work done.
As she came downstairs, the house was empty. She’d assumed Lennon would still be asleep, but to her surprise, breakfast was already set out on the table.
Lennon, apron tied neatly around his waist, emerged from the kitchen carrying two mugs of hot coffee. The golden morning sunlight lit up his handsome features casting him in a warm, inviting glow. Good morning, Mrs. Crestwell. Breakfast is ready p>
Seren still wasn’t used to being called “Mrs. Crestwell.” The name rolled off Lennon’s tongue so naturally, but each time she heard it, her cheeks grew a little
warm.
She glanced at the breakfast in surprise, embarrassment quickly giving way to curiosity. “Did you make all this p>
In her mind, Lennon was the golden boy of the Crestwell family, born with every privilege—more like an old-world gentleman who’d never so much as boiled water for himself.
He shrugged. “Yeah. I learned to cook when I was studying abroad-had to fend for myself. Give it a try, see if it’s to your liking p>
“All right p>
She took a bite, not expecting much, but was pleasantly surprised. Everything tasted wonderful, the coffee just the right amount of mild sweetness-just the way she liked it.
Seren had never cared for overly sweet things.
She found herself marveling, once again, that Lennon-this man she’d always put on a pedestal-wasn’t as unreachable as she’d thought. For so long, she’d imagined him above the mundane, untouched by the ordinary routines of life.
But here he was, apron on, cooking for her, the morning light softening his features. He seemed less like a distant idol and more like a real, flesh-and-blood man standing right in front of her.
“Up early to work?” Lennon’s voice was gentle.
Seren nodded. “Yeah. I’ve got a painting due to a client in a couple of days. Tight deadline p>
“Go on, then. If you need anything, call or text me p>
His baritone was calm and warm, his words perfectly measured, but full of quiet concern.
Seren felt a gentle warmth bloom inside her. She smiled and nodded.