The soft creak of the door opening woke me completely and cleared the sleep from my eyes. Chloe's voice floated in from the front as she entered my apartment.
"Serena?"
"In here," I croaked, pushing myself up from the couch.
Her footsteps echoed through the apartment as she walked into the living room. She was wearing a crisp white collared shirt, a black pencil skirt, black platform pumps to match, and a black tote bag slung over her shoulder.
"Please don't tell me you didn't cook," she groaned when she saw the empty takeout containers.
"Sorry," I said with a guilty look, "I was too hungry to cook."
She sighed like a tired mother. "I knew you were bluffing when you said you'd cook." She gave me a playful glare. "Now I have to order pizza."
I laughed, blinking back unexpected tears. "What do you mean? I would have cooked if I wasn't starving. Anyway, order mine too." I winked.
"Never!" she shouted dramatically, turning to head toward my room to change.
I couldn't stop laughing.
Later, after eating, Chloe and I had a long conversation—from Selena's call, to my decision to keep the baby, to figuring out what came next. We both agreed: I needed to move out of this apartment and find a townhouse. Something with enough space for me, the baby, and... Chloe.
Yes, Chloe. She insisted on staying with me.
---
Two hours of smiling through the pain. That's how long I endured the attention from the guests at Selena's anniversary dinner—overwhelming but necessary. If I was going to be part of this world, they needed to know who I was. Just in case our paths crossed again.
"Wow, Miss Serena, you look exactly like your sister. If it wasn't for your outfit and hairstyle, I'd have mistaken you for Mrs. Reign."
The voice was familiar, but I couldn't place it. I turned to see Camille Rain—the same Camille Killian and I had once dined with and her husband. I forced myself not to snap into the Selena persona. I was Serena now.
"Hello... and you are?" I asked politely, offering a smile.
She inspected me for a moment, then suddenly grabbed my hand and shook it—oddly firm and too long.
"Camille. I'm Camille Rain, wife of Michael Rain—he's a business partner of Mr. Reign," she said with a wide smile.
"It's nice to meet you. Please, enjoy the food and drinks provided," I replied, gesturing to a waiter as I grabbed a glass of wine.
"Here," I said, offering the glass. "One of the finest wines, brought out just for this occasion."
She shook her head, a soft smile playing on her lips. "I'm not in the right condition to have alcohol. I'm pregnant."
I gasped and quickly handed the glass back to the waiter, waving him away. "Oh, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."
She laughed gently and waved off my apology. "It's fine! How could you have known? I'm barely showing." Her eyes dropped to my midsection, and she added, "But... I can see you're pregnant."
That caught me off guard. I hadn't expected anyone to notice yet.
I nodded. "Yes, I am."
Just then, a tall man approached and wrapped his arms protectively around her waist.
"Hey, baby. Do you need to sit down? Your legs must be killing you."
Concern dripped from his voice.
"I'm fine," she reassured him. "I was just speaking to Serena Carrington here. Isn't she lovely?"
He looked up at me, taking in my face. "Wow, you look so much like Selena. Twins?"
I smiled, the question now familiar and expected. "Yes. Nice to meet you, Michael. If I had a dollar for every time someone said that, I'd be a billionaire."
He gave me a sympathetic smile just as a voice I'd been desperately trying to avoid rang out behind me.
"Ser."
I turned. It was Selena. My eyes instinctively searched around her—looking for him.
"Selena! How are you? Happy anniversary!" Camille said cheerfully, stepping forward for a hug.
I froze.
"What the hell—move back, woman," Selena snapped, shooting her a glare and dodging the hug entirely.
Camille froze, clearly stunned.
"Selena! That's not nice," I whispered, my teeth clenched as I smiled at the surrounding guests.
"Excuse me," she hissed at me and stalked off, unbothered by the scene she'd just caused.
I shot Camille an apologetic look and hurried after her.
"What the hell, Selena? Would it kill you to be nice to her?" I whispered harshly, still smiling for the crowd.
"I'm not going to fake being nice to that snobby, pretentious bitch," she spat under her breath.
God help me. Selena's definition of "snobby and pretentious" was anyone who didn't take her shit.
"That doesn't mat—" I started, but stopped mid-sentence, choking on my words.
Because standing just a few feet away was the man I hadn't seen all night.
"Is that…?" I asked quietly.
"Yeah," Selena said, not needing me to finish.
It was Killian.