CEO’s Regret After I Divorced (Serena and Ryan) novel Chapter 78

Chapter 78: Chapter 78 You’ve only seen half my talents, Serena.

Serena’s POV

Hearing him ask about me, a sharp wave of anger flared in my chest. My lips parted, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of a reply.

"Ex-Man, are you coming up or what? The elevator’s going to alarm if you keep holding the door," Julian called out mockingly.

"Serena, did you ask him to pick you up?" Ryan’s voice was ice cold, and I immediately knew he was angry.

But seriously? I should be the angry one here!

"How is that any of your business? If you’re not coming up, then move aside." I pushed him away without hesitation and closed the elevator doors.

Just before they shut completely, I caught a glimpse of disappointment in Ryan’s eyes. Whatever. He didn’t get to play the wounded party here.

"You two fighting again?" Julian asked beside me, his voice carefully neutral.

I didn’t bother responding, just let my chest rise and fall with heavy breaths. Fighting? We were way beyond that. My blood was practically boiling.

"I’ve said it before, but he’s not good enough for you," Julian muttered, shaking his head slightly.

I could tell he wanted to say more—probably offer himself up as the better alternative—but thankfully he read the room. I wasn’t in any state for that kind of conversation right now.

The elevator finally dinged, announcing our arrival. Freedom, at last.

I dug through my purse for my keys, fingers fumbling with frustration when another elevator chimed. You’ve got to be kidding me.

Ryan stepped out, his face a storm of emotions. Julian immediately tensed beside me.

"Why are you following us like some kind of clingy bandage?" Julian asked, voice dripping with contempt.

"Just ignore him," I muttered, finally locating my keys and jamming them into the lock. "Let’s go inside."

I didn’t spare Ryan a single glance as we walked in. Not one. The satisfaction of slamming the door in his face—again—was almost therapeutic.

"There are drinks in the fridge if you want one," I said to Julian, collapsing onto my recliner. My mind was still racing, replaying our argument over and over.

This was Julian’s first time in my apartment. Usually, he’d just drop me off downstairs and leave.

"Not bad at all," he said approvingly, though I barely registered his words.

After a quick tour around my apartment, Julian finally grabbed a drink from the fridge. "You must be hungry. I noticed you’ve got ingredients in there—how about I cook something?"

I snapped out of my daze. "You don’t have to go through the trouble."

"Don’t be so formal with me," he insisted, already finding an apron and tying it around his waist with practiced ease.

I couldn’t help but drift over, curiosity piqued. "You cook?"

Julian flashed me a smile, eyebrow raised teasingly. "Is that so surprising? You’ve only seen half my talents, Serena."

It was surprising, actually. In my mind, Julian had always been the pampered heir who probably had a personal chef his entire life.

While I was still processing this revelation, Julian had already started chopping vegetables with remarkable skill. A potato was transformed into perfectly uniform slices, then julienned into thin strips with lightning speed.

My eyes widened. "Your knife skills are impressive."

***

Sophie’s POV

I was feeling smug. Absolutely smug.

The moment Ryan left, I bit down hard on my lip and demanded the doctor remove my cast immediately. I wasn’t going to spend another minute in this wretched hospital bed. Not when I had plans to execute.

While the doctor worked, my phone buzzed. Well, well, what perfect timing! Photos of Serena and Julian looking cozy together—him helping her into a car after that little "accident," but the angle made it look deliciously intimate. The sender even included bank details, expecting payment for their services. Worth every penny, I’d say.

"You really shouldn’t rush your recovery," the doctor droned on as he finished removing my cast. "The injury needs proper—"

"Next time, keep unnecessary comments to yourself," I snapped, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Say only what’s needed or nothing at all!"

The doctor’s mouth tightened, clearly offended. Fine by me. He turned and walked out without bothering to give me recovery instructions. Not that I needed them anyway. This was just a surface wound—looked dramatic but hadn’t even touched the bone. All that fuss for nothing.

I tossed the prescribed ointment into my purse and finally checked my phone properly. Looking at these photos again, I couldn’t help the smile spreading across my face. My mood instantly transformed from stormy to radiant.

A plan formed in my mind. I dug out my second phone—the untraceable one—and selected the most suggestive photos. Without hesitation, I forwarded them straight to Ryan.

Ryan and I had just parted on terrible terms. If I sent these from my regular number, he’d delete them without looking. But an anonymous tip? Oh, he wouldn’t be able to resist.

I slipped the phone back into my purse, not even anxious about his response. Photos like these would drive him absolutely mad. The thought of his face turning dark with jealousy and anger... I couldn’t help but smile.

As I walked out of the hospital, victory practically radiated from me. Sometimes revenge is sweeter when you don’t witness the explosion, but just know it’s coming.