Caleb’s POV
Lucas moves before anyone can stop him. His hand closes around Serena’s arm—hard, bruising, the grip of a man who’s done pretending to be gentle.
He starts pulling her toward the exit, his face a mask of controlled fury that’s cracking at the edges.
His voice drops to a hiss meant only for her ears, but I see the effect of his words in the way her expression shifts from defiance to fear.
She tries to pull back but can’t break his grip. I’m moving before I make the conscious decision to move.
The crowd parts around me as I cross the room in seconds, shoving past guests who blur into irrelevant obstacles.
Someone grabs at my arm, a waiter, maybe, or a concerned guest, and I shake them off without breaking stride. Every cell in my body is focused on one thing: getting to her.
I reach them just as Lucas tries to drag her through the service entrance.
My hand closes around his wrist and I rip his grip away from Serena’s arm with enough force to make him stumble.
The momentum spins him toward me, and for one satisfying moment I see genuine shock flash across his face.
He didn’t expect me to intervene—not here, not in front of everyone.
“Don’t fucking touch her.” The words come out low, dangerous, carrying a promise of violence I’m barely holding in check.
Gasps ripple through the crowd. The sea of guests has shifted around us, forming a loose circle of horrified spectators.
Phones appear everywhere—recording, documenting, capturing every moment of the Bennett golden boy’s unraveling.
“Caleb.” Serena’s voice is shaky. I don’t look at her, can’t afford to take my eyes off Lucas, but I feel her move behind me, putting my body between herself and the man who just tried to drag her away.
Richard Bennett pushes through the crowd, his face purple with fury. “Everyone calm down. This is a private family matter, and I insist—”
“There’s nothing private about assault.” My voice carries clearly. “Your son just put his hands on my sister in front of a hundred witnesses.”
The word sister tastes like ash, but I use it deliberately. Let them think I’m just a protective stepbrother. Let them underestimate what I’m willing to do.
“This is ridiculous.” Lucas straightens his jacket, attempting to reassemble his composure. “Serena and I were having a disagreement. Couples fight. It’s hardly…”
“You’re not a couple.” I step closer, forcing him back. “She told you no. In front of everyone. That means this engagement is over, and you don’t get to touch her again.”
Something snaps behind Lucas’s eyes.
The charming facade disappears completely, replaced by the feral desperation of a cornered animal. He shoves me hard in the chest, both hands flat against my sternum, sending me back a step.
Then he turns on Serena. He grabs her by both arms before I can react, fingers digging into her skin with vicious pressure.
“You think you can humiliate me? In front of everyone?” He shakes her once, hard. “You’re nothing without me, Serena. Nothing. I made you, and I can destroy you just as easily.”
“Let go of me.” Her voice trembles but doesn’t break. “You’re hurting me.”
“Good.” He leans closer, his face inches from hers. “Maybe now you’ll remember who you’re dealing with.”
Women nearby recoil in horror. A man starts forward as if to intervene, then stops, uncertain. But I don’t hesitate.
I grab Lucas by the shoulder and spin him around, putting myself between him and Serena. His face twists with hatred as he faces me, and I see the moment he decides to stop pretending entirely.
“You think you’re her protector?” He laughs, the sound ugly and brittle. “You think anyone’s going to believe you’re just playing big brother?”
“I think you need to walk away.”
“Or what?”

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABEL
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Hate Me Like You Love Me (Serena and Caleb)