Chapter 29

Serena’s POV
“Is all this really necessary, Serena?” Ryan’s deep voice carried a hint of exasperation across the table.
I nearly laughed at his audacity. Just sitting across from Ryan Blackwood in this private dining room was irritating enough, and now he was questioning my methods? The nerve of this man.
“Isn’t it necessary?” I shot back, my voice cool and controlled despite the anger simmering beneath.
“Do you honestly think I don’t know how Ivy has been systematically targeting me for years? That incident with Julian and me—I haven’t even begun to settle that score yet.”
I straightened my posture, adjusting the crisp collar of my white suit. “Enough small talk. I have three conditions. If you don’t agree to them, there’s no point continuing this conversation.”
Before meeting Ryan tonight, Maya and I had carefully strategized these demands. If he was so determined to protect that snake Ivy, I wouldn’t be showing any mercy either.
“First, Dreamland Studio gets thirty percent of Blackwood’s jewelry collaborations.”
The moment I stated my first condition, Ryan’s expression darkened. I could practically see the calculations running behind those stormy gray eyes.
“Your appetite seems rather excessive, Serena,” he said, his voice tight.
“Whether I can handle it isn’t your concern, Mr. Blackwood,” I replied calmly, swirling the untouched wine in my glass. “You just need to answer yes or no.”
This number wasn’t arbitrary. Maya and I had calculated it carefully over endless cups of coffee last night.
Ask for too much, and Ryan would flat-out refuse.
Ask for too little, and Dreamland wouldn’t secure the financial stability we needed.
Thirty percent was perfect – painful enough to make him flinch but not impossible for a company of Blackwood’s size.
I watched his expression shift as he processed the request, those calculating eyes I once found intimidating now just revealing his mental arithmetic. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly, telling me he’d already decided this was manageable.
“What else?” he asked, voice deliberately neutral.
“Third condition,” I continued, skipping past my second demand to the most important one. “Ivy Hart is fired, and the Hart Jewelry line is completely eliminated. She never gets another chance to rebuild her career.”
I delivered these words with cold precision. After everything Ivy had put me through over the past three years, this punishment was actually quite merciful.
“These three conditions are non-negotiable, Ryan. Would you like some time to consider them?”
After a moment of loaded silence, Ryan’s gaze grew more intense, almost penetrating.
“During our three years of marriage, Serena, exactly how much were you hiding from me?”
I blinked, momentarily caught off-guard before letting out a bitter laugh.
“That’s rich coming from you, Ryan. I wasn’t hiding anything—you simply never cared enough to notice.” I couldn’t keep the pain from bleeding into my voice despite my best efforts. “Let’s not drag up the past in this setting. Just tell me—can you meet these conditions or not?”
“Is that all you want?” he asked, his tone unreadable.
I frowned, confused by his tone. “Are you suggesting I’m asking for too little? I can certainly add more demands if you’d prefer.”
“I can meet all three conditions,” he replied with unexpected ease, picking up his chopsticks as if we were just having a normal dinner. “Shall we eat now?”
I sat frozen, momentarily thrown off balance. I’d prepared for a negotiation battle, not immediate surrender. Something wasn’t right.
“Since you’ve agreed, I’ll be leaving,” I said, standing up smoothly. “Enjoy your meal, Mr. Blackwood.”
I needed to get out of there. The way he was looking at me – like he was trying to solve a puzzle – was making my skin prickle uncomfortably.
“Wait.”I paused mid-step but didn’t turn around. “Something else, Mr. Blackwood?”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Ryan’s expression shift, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite form the words. His usual commanding presence seemed somehow vulnerable.
“It’s… getting late. Let me drive you home. We’re heading the same direction.”
My hand instinctively drifted to my stomach before I caught myself. “That won’t be necessary. I don’t believe we’re headed the same way at all.”
“Serena,” his voice softened, “how have you been since the divorce?”
The question caught me off guard, stirring unwanted emotions. I turned, meeting his gaze with a practiced smirk that hid the storm inside.
“I’ve been thriving, actually. But we’re divorced now, Ryan. We’re not the kind of exes who sit around catching up on each other’s lives. I’m leaving.”
This time, I walked out without looking back, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
—
Ryan’s POV
She walked away with such finality that I hesitated only briefly before following. Something inside me couldn’t let her leave like this.
Simon was waiting outside the private room, his expression faltering when he saw both of us emerge with tense faces.
“Sir, did the meeting not go well?” he asked quietly.
“Where’s Serena?” I demanded, ignoring his question.
“Ms. Serena is heading toward the front entrance.”
Without another word, I strode after her, my long legs carrying me quickly through the restaurant. I wasn’t even sure what I wanted to say—just that I needed to say something.
As I reached the entrance, the words died in my throat.
Julian Clarke was holding the passenger door open for Serena, and she was smiling at him—genuinely smiling—as she slid into his car.
They looked comfortable together, intimate even. But she hadn’t smiled once during our entire meeting, maintaining that cold, professional facade throughout.
A bitter wave washed over me, mixing envy with a hollow ache I wasn’t ready to admit.
I stood frozen, watching until Julian’s car disappeared into the night traffic.Only then did I unclench my fists, struggling to maintain my composure.
“Fire Ivy Hart immediately. Clear out her studio too,” I instructed, my voice terrifyingly calm.
Simon’s eyes widened in shock. “Tonight? But sir, she’s Sophie’s sister—”
“Did you not hear what I said?” I cut him off sharply.
“I heard you, sir. I’ll handle it first thing tomorrow.”
“No. Do it now. And make sure Ivy doesn’t try to contact me again.”
I turned and walked toward my car, anger and something that felt uncomfortably like jealousy churning in my stomach.
The image of Serena smiling up at Julian kept replaying in my mind. When was the last time she had smiled at me like that? Had she ever?
For the first time, I wondered if I had truly known my wife at all during our marriage—or if I had simply been too blinded by ghosts to see the extraordinary woman right in front of me.