Unpredictable Connection

26. Her Fight, Our Grief

3rd person's POV:

4years ago:

Engfa paused just outside Serena's office, her hand mid-air, about to knock—when raised voices from inside froze her in place.

They weren't calm.

She leaned in instinctively, her breath quiet, eyes narrowing as she peered through the narrow slit of the half-closed door.

Serena was behind her desk, poised and upright. The light from the window drew a line of gold across her sharp features, but her voice was anything but warm, "I said no. That means no. I won't let those vultures touch a single piece of my company."

Engfa's brows furrowed.

She'd overheard murmurs at home—about shady businessmen circling their factories like wolves, about deals being pushed in the shadows. Even her father had started coming home with silence stitched into his expression.

But nothing prepared her for the man standing across from Serena. Her secretary — mid-thirties, slick smile, short curls and a gleam in his eyes that didn't belong in a place of trust.

He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice.
"Ma'am... you have no idea who you're refusing. One snap of his fingers, and your neck could be next."

Serena went still.

Her eyes drifted to the family photo on her desk, the edges of her fingers curling ever so slightly against the wood.

Then, steady as stone, she leaned back in her chair.

"Even then," she said coldly, "I will never give in."

The man's expression twisted into frustration. His voice rose, filled with disbelief.

"Why? What are you even protecting?!"

Serena stood.

And with that single movement, the atmosphere in the room shifted—like the air had thickened.

She walked slowly around the desk, stopping just in front of him.

"You should remember who you're speaking to," she said, her voice clipped and sharp, like a blade drawn too cleanly.

The man swallowed hard but forced out a brittle apology, more insult than remorse.

Serena turned away, walking to the window, eyes sweeping the factory skyline.

"These factories feed families. Real people. Real lives. And you want to throw them aside for profits and power? You want to replace them with machines and crooks? Not on my watch."

His jaw clenched, his mask slipping.

"Sentiment doesn't run a company," he bit out. "Profit does. You're too young and too emotional to understand that."

She turned, eyes lit with fire.

"They work with loyalty. I repay that loyalty — not betray it. I won't become one of them."

Her words landed like thunder.

"And next time," she added coldly, "watch your tone. Is that how you speak to your boss?"

The man flinched, not from fear, but from wounded pride. She didn't wait for his reply.

"If this isn't how a company runs," Serena added coldly, "then maybe it shouldn't run at all. Get out."

He turned to leave, but her final blow landed hard.

He spun on his heel, fury trembling in his shoulders, but just as he reached the door, her final blow came.