CEO’s Regret After I Divorced (Serena and Ryan) novel Chapter 372

Chapter 372: Chapter 372 The Quinn Family

Author’s POV

Maya’s heels clacked sharply against the floor as she was escorted out by hospital security. She struggled against their grip, stamping her foot with frustration. The door closed behind her with a hollow bang, leaving a vacuum of silence.

Serena exhaled slowly. Relief should have followed, yet something inside her twisted uncomfortably.

"Mrs. Lancaster," the nurse apologized at once, flustered. "I’m terribly sorry. It won’t happen again. We’ll make sure no unauthorized visitors enter your room."

Serena’s voice came out hoarse, edged with irritation. "See that you don’t. When can I be discharged?"

"The doctor recommends another few days of observation."

Serena waved a hand, restless. "Just keep the strangers out. I don’t want anyone disturbing me again."

"Of course, ma’am."

When the door clicked shut, stillness settled over the room like fog. Outside, dusk had already begun to fall, painting the walls in soft grey shadows. The clock’s ticking grew louder with every beat of her uneven heart.

Her thoughts darted in circles—snared and frantic. She tried to push them away, but Maya’s desperate face refused to fade.

She knew the woman, at least vaguely. Maya used to be in the same social circle—Ryan’s wife’s close friend, later married into the powerful Quinn family. Her husband, Ethan Quinn, now the head of the family’s vast empire. The kind of woman who moved through high society with ease—elegant, poised, untouchable.

Someone like that didn’t make random accusations.

She either had been deceived... or she was telling the truth.

And that second possibility frightened Serena.

She massaged her temples, fatigue creeping in. It was absurd. Impossible. But that didn’t stop her thoughts from tangling into tighter knots until the sedatives finally dragged her down into uneasy sleep.

Morning sunlight slipped through the blinds when she woke. Pale gold stripes crossed the bed sheets, warm and deceptive. Serena had made up her mind.

She was leaving.

When she told the doctor, he frowned, then sighed in defeat. "Medically, it’s not ideal," he said. "Your throat injury still requires rest. Strain it now, and the damage could worsen permanently."

"I’m not returning to work right away," Serena murmured, wrapping her scarf around her neck. "I’ll rest at home."

The firmness in her tone left no space for argument. The doctor hesitated, then nodded and began the discharge paperwork.

By the time the forms were signed, the hospital had informed Cedric Lancaster.

He arrived twenty minutes later—sharp suit, steady stride, the scent of crisp cologne preceding him. His expression softened when he saw her, but his eyes flickered with faint worry.

"You don’t look well," he said, taking the bag of medications from the nurse. "Didn’t you sleep?"

Serena shook her head, avoiding his gaze. The doctor’s warning echoed in her mind; her throat burned, raw and tight, so she didn’t speak.

Cedric’s concern poured out in his usual restrained way. "This place is nothing like home. Once we’re back, I’ll have the family physician visit daily. You’ll recover faster there."

He smiled faintly. "Come on—the car’s waiting."

Down the elevator they went, past the sterile corridors and murmuring nurses. Serena focused on her breathing—steady, even—but her pulse wouldn’t calm. A strange feeling rippled in her chest, a mixture of anticipation and dread, as though something inevitable waited just beyond the glass doors.

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