Page 89 of Serena

Oh fuck, this feels so good. “Yes.” He lifts one of my legs onto the desk. He’s even deeper at this angle.

“Where?” I search in the direction he’s pointing. This asshole. He’s pointing to a literal camera. It’s vintage, but still.

“Harder,” I whisper.

“Whatever my girl wants.” I feel him empty himself inside me, and my pussy milks him.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around much. Xander and I have been trying to work on our relationship. Things have been tense.” I look at Yuri as we eat pizza. We decided to stay in the penthouse, so Ian is staying out of our way in his office because he won’t let me go anywhere without an army.

“Are you still fighting about the prenup?”

“Kind of. After the holidays, we’re thinking about taking a trip.” I look at Yuri. She’s lost some weight and isn’t smiling like she used to.

“Do you still want to expand the studio? A second location?”

“Xander and I think it’s best to wait. Maybe after the wedding.”

“But you started to look for a location, you looked into investors. You?—”

“Serena, no! It’s not a good time.” Her words are sharp. Something is definitely wrong. “Yuri, you know I’ll always behere. You're my number one. I need you to tell me if something is wrong.” She looks at me with tears in her eyes.

“I know. I will, I promise. Xander and I are just working on things.”

She didn’t stay long, and I ask Gus to take her home, then I go to Ian. I need his help. Entering his office, he comes to me. Already sensing something’s wrong.

“Baby, what is it?”

“I need your help. Actually, I need Miles’s help.” He furrows his brows.

“It’s Yuri. I think something’s wrong.” He gives me Miles’s information.

“Whenever and whatever you need, he will help.”

My phone rings, and I see Maggie's name on the screen.

“Hello, Ms. Nerva.”

“Hello, Maggie. Is everything all right?”

“No, it’s Claudia. She was attacked.” I look at Ian and start walking to the elevator; he follows without question.

After a short car ride, we arrive at the hospital. Ian sits next to me in the sterile hospital room, and I look at my assistant, who’s become my friend. She’s lying down, sleeping on the bed. No visible bruises, no knife wounds, but I know she’ll hold invisible scars after tonight.

“Serena?” She sobs. I go to her and hold her.

“You’re safe.”

“Serena, I was so scared.”

“Shh, I know.”

“He came out of nowhere.”

“What happened?”

“I was leaving the bar. After a block, I heard someone walking behind me, but I didn't think much of it.” She stops to compose herself. “I heard someone whistle and hum, “pretty girl.”

My blood runs cold, and my mouth dries. “Wh-what?”