CEO’s Regret After I Divorced (Serena and Ryan) novel Chapter 154

Chapter 154: Chapter 154 The interview was interrupted

Serena’s POV

After our beach stroll the night before, I’d barely had time to catch my breath. The competition organizers weren’t about to let their newly viral judge lounge around—they’d scheduled back-to-back activities and interviews for the next two days before the finals.

Online buzz about the design competition was exploding, and apparently I was dominating at least half the trending topics. So much for any hope of downtime.

Ryan had come to San Francisco specifically to accompany me, which meant he was backstage for every single one of these exhausting events. We weren’t exactly hiding our closeness, either. His hand would rest casually on the small of my back, or he’d brush hair from my face without a second thought about who might be watching.

I could hear the whispers from the production staff whenever we passed by.

"I heard she’s his ex-wife. They supposedly divorced because of relationship problems, but look at them now..."

"You know how these wealthy families operate—it’s like diving into the deep end. Unless they come out and tell us what’s really going on, we’ll never know."

"They make such a power couple though. A successful businesswoman and a CEO—they’re perfectly matched."

"Do you think those kids she has might actually be his...?"

The rumors flew wild, but nobody dared approach Ryan directly. When he wasn’t with me, his face screamed "KEEP AWAY" in bold capital letters. Only around me did that intimidating exterior soften.

I had just finished another event and headed backstage to change when Ryan followed me in. I could feel his eyes scanning my face, his brow furrowing when he noticed my pallor.

"Are you tired?" His voice carried that concern I was growing reaccustomed to.

I took a sip of water and sighed deeply. "Just been sitting too long. I’ll be fine after a short break."

The weather was uncomfortably hot today, and this backstage area had no air conditioning. The combination of the stuffy atmosphere and my heavy outfit was making me feel slightly lightheaded.

"No, I’m taking you back to rest," Ryan declared, his tone brooking no argument.

I shook my head. "I have another interview in a few minutes. It’ll be quick—just a few minutes—then I can go back and rest. I already promised Mr. Brook I’d do it."

Ryan’s face hardened with displeasure, but seeing my determination, he reluctantly backed down.

I decided against changing into the outfit the organizers had prepared, sticking with my more comfortable clothes instead.

The makeup artist dabbed extra blush on my cheeks to hide how pale I looked.

Before I headed onstage, Ryan caught my arm, his expression deadly serious. "Remember—just a few minutes. If you start feeling unwell, you tell them immediately."

"Don’t worry," I smiled, trying to reassure him. "I’m perfectly fine right now."

The interview started pleasantly enough. The questions were standard and predictable—the kind I could answer in my sleep without having to think too hard. Wearing my casual clothes actually helped me feel more relaxed in front of the cameras.

But after a few softball questions, things took an uncomfortable turn when one reporter decided to dig into my personal life.

"Ms. Quinn, we’ve heard you have a special ’Knight’ personally escorting you during this event. There are even photos circulating. Should we expect happy news soon?" The reporter didn’t directly name Ryan, clearly aware they were treading dangerous ground, instead using a playful euphemism.

I froze momentarily. I’ve never enjoyed putting my private affairs on public display. Besides, this interview was supposed to focus on the competition—this question was completely out of bounds.

Maintaining a polite smile, I tried to redirect. "Life is full of uncertainties. You never know what might happen next—just like this competition. No one can predict who’ll take home the final prize."

"So you’re saying you have no immediate plans to remarry?" the reporter pressed, completely twisting my words.

My smile stiffened. I’d been patiently enduring this final interview, and now this? Before I could respond, other reporters jumped in with their own invasive questions.

"Ms. Quinn, rumor has it you have more than one admirer in attendance..."

"Ms. Quinn, you’ve unexpectedly gone viral as a judge. Was this a deliberate marketing strategy?"

The malicious questions came like bullets, making my head spin. I felt my eyebrows knitting together as my chest tightened uncomfortably.

Suddenly, there was movement at the edge of the crowd. "Excuse me. Move aside." Ryan’s commanding voice cut through the chaos as he pushed through the reporters, reaching for my hand and pulling me up without ceremony.

"Did you see how concerned Mr. Blackwood looked? He really cares about her!"

"Talk about a man who’d move mountains for his woman—I’m swooning!"

"That interview’s definitely toast. Guess we’re working overtime again."

"The life of a working stiff is so hard..."

Ryan carried me to the car and immediately instructed the driver to take us to the hospital.

"No," I shook my head against his chest. "That’s unnecessary. I’m just exhausted. Let’s go back to the hotel."

After a moment of hesitation, Ryan reluctantly agreed, his jaw still tense with worry as he held me close.

After returning to our hotel, I felt the exhaustion washing over me like a tidal wave. Ryan carefully placed me on the bed, his eyes never leaving my face as he studied every flicker of discomfort.

"How are you feeling now?" he asked, brushing hair from my forehead with gentle fingers.

I managed a weak smile. "Better. Just tired."

While Ryan was calling room service to order some food, I checked my phone and winced. Social media was blowing up with news about the aborted interview, with wild speculation running rampant.

"Put that away," Ryan commanded when he noticed what I was doing. "You need rest, not more stress."

I sighed and set the phone aside. "The finals are tomorrow. I can’t just disappear."

"You can and you will if necessary." His tone left no room for argument. "Your health comes first."

As I dozed off, I felt Ryan’s weight settle beside me on the bed, his hand gently stroking my hair. The comfort of his presence lulled me into a deep sleep.