CEO’s Regret After I Divorced (Serena and Ryan) novel Chapter 357

Chapter 357: Chapter 357 Damage Control

Serena’s POV

Just smiling my way through this circus, that was my whole plan. Just keep the mask in place, keep the panic on a short leash.

I watched Mr. Alvin come gliding over, wearing that host-smile made for business cards.

“Mrs. Lancaster, Mr. Lancaster! Wonderful to see you here tonight.”

“Mr. Alvin, truly, you outdid yourself. The atmosphere’s... incredible.” The lie felt cold on my tongue. Meanwhile my mind was running a mental obstacle course, mapping exits and counting possible detours if I needed out, fast.

He leaned closer, voice full of importance. “You’re far too kind. But honestly, tonight belongs to our investors. I cannot thank Mr. Lancaster and Mr. Blackwood enough for their support.”

Mr. Blackwood. Just hearing his name was enough to hit me like a punch to the solar plexus. The smile on my lips started feeling fragile, brittle—like if I breathed wrong, it’d crack.

God, please—let him be late tonight. Give me five more minutes to build some armor.

So when my eyes swept the room—I couldn’t spot Ryan’s monster-tall frame anywhere. I exhaled, just a little. Relief, thin and shaky, pooled in my chest.

Alvin wandered off, shaking hands and chasing richer prey. As he drifted, Cedric and I ended up seated at a table dressed to kill in ivory silk, already mobbed. London’s fashion elite swarmed like locusts, all dying for a peek at the mysterious Mrs. Lancaster, the nobody who’d somehow become tonight’s headline.

I flipped on autopilot. Smile. Nod. Pretend you own the room, Serena. But my brain? It ran riot.

I felt it first before I saw it—the energy in the room shifted. Like somebody just changed the station from harmless pop to a classic thriller. People froze. Heads turned. Voices stalled mid-sentence, trailing off while they followed something—or someone— at the door.

No. Not now. Not yet.

And there he was, Ryan, stalking into the room in a white suit that made every other man here look like background noise. In seconds, the place just... stilled. Champagne flutes paused midair, and every set of eyes locked on him.

And trailing behind, in click-clack stilettos, Sophie Anderson. Because this night wasn’t complicated enough.

Cedric leaned into my bubble, voice low and pointed. “That’s Sophie Anderson. She’s technically married, except her husband’s never in this country. She runs their London empire.”

I tried to focus, I really did. “So she’s got the business and the image. How very... typical.”

He caught the sarcasm in my voice and shot me a look bordering on smug. “Serena, you want my advice? Tonight’s about the collection. Stay clear of drama. Please.”

“Trust me, I’m only here for business,” I said, dragging in a sharp breath and doing my best not to glance at Ryan as he carved through the crowd.

But then our eyes locked—and for one second, the noise and the crowd and the whole spinning world just... stopped. His gaze pinned me.

Before I could even blink, Ryan started moving in my direction, cutting through the glitterati like a wolf among designer sheep. Sophie chased after him, sharp eyes flicking from me to Ryan and back, her smile freezing around the edges.

The room muttered and hummed.

“Oh my God—isn’t that Blackwood’s missing wife?”

“That’s the third daughter from Quinn’s family—the one who vanished!”

“She’s using another name—what else has she lied about?”

I barely managed to keep smiling, even while the whispers swirled like storm clouds. Every step Ryan took, my new life started crumbling. I could feel it, like standing in a glass house with the first stone already thrown.

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