"Thank you!" Serena said.
Hugh's hand froze in midair.
All around them, the crowd erupted into cheers and playful hollers. Someone even had the nerve to shout, "Mr. Larson, kiss her!"
Hugh's icy expression almost cracked. He pressed his lips into a firm line, and his jaw was clenched so tightly it ached.
He forced himself to push down the storm of emotions rising in his chest. Then, gently, he wrapped Serena in his arms and—just like he had said softly that morning,
"Happy birthday."
Serena didn't say anything in return. She simply held him tighter. Meeting an ally like him… she knew it was her greatest fortune.
With the setting sun painting the sky in shades of gold and crimson, the two stood locked in an embrace while cheers and blessings echoed in the air.
But in a shadowed corner of the deck, Sarah stood alone, seething. The seed of jealousy had long since taken root and now grew into a suffocating tree, blotting out the light around her.
She felt her entire body trembling with rage. Her nails dug into her palms so hard they almost broke the skin.
"Serena… you always get everything good!"
She had turned the cold and distant Hugh into a lovestruck fool without even trying. And she, Sarah, had nothing to show for herself.
She hadn't forgotten what she saw last night: Cole with Wendy. The sight had nearly driven her mad.
Cole was never hers—not before, and not now.
So why did Serena get to have a perfect, diamond-tier man like Hugh?
Fueled by envy and frustration, Sarah stormed off the deck. As she passed, she overheard two attendants chatting nearby.
"We'll be docking soon. Are Mr. and Mrs. Larson's rooms ready?"
"Mr. Larson asked us to prepare the best suite for Mrs. Larson, so she can rest after the party. He said everything must be perfect—no mistakes."
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