CEO’s Regret After I Divorced (Serena and Ryan) novel Chapter 277

Chapter 277: Chapter 277 Matthews

Serena’s POV

I watched Ivy bite her lip nervously as she rushed to explain. "Mr. Matthews, you’ve misunderstood. Mrs. Quinn only chatted with me. She hasn’t seen any of our Fashion Week pieces."

I waved my hand dismissively. "Miss Percy, why don’t you step outside for a moment? I’d like to discuss this collaboration privately with Mr. Matthews."

I needed to get her out of the room—partly to protect her. The last thing I wanted was to witness Matthews tear into her while I sat there. Something about her vulnerability stirred my protective instincts.

"Of course," she replied, clearly understanding my intentions. She left quickly, gently closing the door behind her.

The office fell silent. Matthews sat across from me, brow furrowed with impatience.

"Mrs. Quinn, Kruse and Dreamland Studio aren’t exactly competitors. But looking at our sketches in advance seems... inappropriate, don’t you think?"

I leaned forward, my voice dropping to a cool, authoritative tone. "Mr. Matthews, that’s hardly the point here. If you use Ivy’s current pieces for Fashion Week, Kruse will suffer a devastating loss. When headquarters starts looking for someone to blame, do you really think you can pin everything on her?"

I tilted my head slightly. "I’d say you’ve enjoyed your position as branch director long enough."

His face changed color as my words hit their mark. Whatever comeback he’d prepared died in his throat.

"You have two options," I said, offering a thin smile. "Either replace Ivy’s collection for Fashion Week, or collaborate with Dreamland Studio."

Matthews’ mouth twitched as his expression darkened. "Mrs. Quinn, this is an internal Kruse matter. We don’t need your... advice."

I stood up smoothly, my voice turning glacial. "Take your time to consider. Accept my suggestion or don’t. After Fashion Week, the results will speak for themselves." I buttoned my blazer casually. "I don’t necessarily need to collaborate with Kruse. I’m doing this to help you."

Without waiting for his response, I walked out. Ivy was pacing nervously in the hallway, surprised to see me emerge so quickly.

"Mrs. Quinn, what happened—"

I gave her a reassuring smile. "Don’t worry, Ivy. If Matthews insists on using your unfinished work for Fashion Week, terminate your contract."

Her eyes widened.

"I’ll handle any consequences," I continued. "All the legal fees, the career implications—everything. That is, if you want my help."

Emotion flickered across her face. I could tell she was speechless with gratitude.

"Don’t use that contract to threaten me anymore, Matthews. I’m done!" Her emotions finally broke through as she rolled up her sleeve dramatically. "After I suffered this serious injury, you didn’t show an ounce of concern. Instead, you forced me to take responsibility for Fashion Week."

Her voice rose with frustration. "I’ve told you repeatedly these pieces are old designs that aren’t ready for the runway. But you refused to listen. Now there’s a perfect solution, and you’re still resistant. What exactly do you want?"

Matthews, having never seen Ivy so passionate, finally backed down. "Ivy, calm down. Everything’s negotiable. Dreamland Studio just opened in London, and this is all very rushed. I’m just being cautious. If they have ulterior motives and something goes wrong during Fashion Week, will you take responsibility?"

Ivy scoffed. "It’s all about avoiding blame, isn’t it? Fine, Matthews. If you’re too afraid to take responsibility, I will. Now can you finally agree to the collaboration?"

With Ivy’s guarantee, Matthews reluctantly agreed.

As Ivy walked back to her office, her heart was still racing from the confrontation. She had never stood up to Matthews like that before, and the adrenaline coursed through her veins. Part of her couldn’t believe she had actually done it—threatened to terminate her contract, called out his cowardice so boldly. But another part of her felt incredibly liberated, as if a weight she’d been carrying for years had finally lifted.

Serena had been right. She deserved better than this toxic environment, better than being treated like a disposable asset. The fear of the penalty clause still gnawed at her, but for the first time in years, she felt like she had options. She had someone in her corner.

Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for her phone. She needed to call Serena immediately—to share the good news, to thank her for the courage she’d given her, and maybe to finally start believing that things could change.

Taking a steadying breath, Ivy dialed Serena’s number, a small smile playing at her lips as she waited for her to pick up.