CHAPTER 33: CHAPTER 33 DANGEROUS PROPOSITION

Serena’s POV

"Let’s get remarried."

His words hang in the air between us, so absurd I can’t help but laugh. It starts as a small chuckle but quickly grows into full-blown laughter that makes my sides hurt.

"Excuse me?" I finally manage between gasps, wiping away a tear of bitter amusement. "Did you hit your head when you were drunk?"

He stands suddenly, swaying slightly but moving toward me with surprising determination.

The coffee table wobbles as he bumps against it, nearly knocking over my half-empty cup.

Before I can retreat, his hands grip my shoulders, his touch burning through the thin fabric of my pajamas.

I can smell the whiskey on his breath, see the slight redness in his normally clear eyes.

"You heard me." His face is inches from mine, his eyes intense despite the alcohol. The sharp line of his jaw tightens as he speaks. "Come back to me."

I push against his chest, feeling the familiar solid warmth beneath my palms that I once craved every night.

But he holds firm, pulling me closer until I’m pressed against him.

The familiar scent of his cologne mixed with whiskey is disorienting, sending unwanted memories flooding back–nights when I’d fall asleep wrapped in his arms, mornings waking to his sleeping face.

"You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying," I manage to get out, my voice weaker than I’d like, betraying the effect he still has on me. My heart hammers traitorously against my ribs.

His hand slides up to cradle the back of my head, fingers tangling in my damp hair.

A droplet of water runs down my neck from my half-dried hair, and his eyes follow its path. "I’ve never been more clear about anything."

When his lips crash against mine, my body betrays me with an immediate response.

Heat courses through me as his mouth moves with desperate hunger against mine. His lips are softer than I remember, more urgent, more demanding.

The stubble on his jaw scratches slightly against my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

For a dangerous moment, I surrender to the sensation, my hands clutching his shirt instead of pushing him away. My fingers curl into the expensive fabric, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath.

The taste of whiskey on his tongue snaps me back to reality. With renewed strength, I shove him hard, breaking free. My chest heaves as I back away.

"Get out!" My voice shakes with rage—at him, at myself, at my body’s treacherous reaction.

The lamp beside us casts long shadows across his face, making him look like a stranger. "You can’t just walk back into my life drunk and expect me to fall at your feet. Those days are over!"

He stares at me, breathing heavily. Something dangerous flashes in his eyes – something possessive and raw that makes my stomach flip. "You still want me. I felt it."

The raw arrogance in his voice infuriates me. My hands clench into fists at my sides as I fight the urge to throw something at him. "What I want is for you to leave. Now."

"I’m not leaving unless you agree to remarry me. About the past... I was wrong. I apologize." He switches to his native tongue, the words sounding even more intimate somehow.

I freeze, wondering if I misheard. Ryan Blackwood, apologizing? This man who never admits he’s wrong about anything?

"I’m serious, whether you believe me or not. Blackwood needs a mistress, a proper one."

Ryan shifts uncomfortably, struggling with the words. "I just want you back in my life, Serena. Even if it’s just to see you every day."

"Mr. Blackwood, you flatter me," I say with biting sarcasm. "But there are countless women in New York who’d kill to marry you and become Mrs. Blackwood.

I’ve already played that role, and clearly, I wasn’t suited for it. Perhaps you should look elsewhere."

My words drip with venom, not giving him an inch of sympathy.

"I’ve gotten used to having you in my life," he insists, his tone growing more urgent.

"Serena, I mean everything I’m saying. If you agree to remarry me, I’ll accept whatever conditions you set. You can continue with your work—I’ll support you fully."

My body tenses as I finally see the sincerity in his eyes. A part of me I thought was dead stirs painfully in my chest.

But his belated apology means nothing now. The damage is already done, the scars too deep.

"Ryan, just leave," I say, my voice softening despite myself.

"Don’t say things like this anymore. What we had was broken from the start. Yes, I admit I once had feelings for you, but there’s no future for us now."

"Why?" His eyes search mine desperately. "Don’t you believe me?"

"That’s not it," I snap, my patience finally breaking. "If you don’t leave right now, I’ll call the police and report you for trespassing."

His jaw clenches, pride and frustration warring on his face.

The muscle in his cheek twitches as he grinds his teeth. For a moment, I think he might refuse, might force another confrontation.

Instead, he straightens his rumpled jacket with a jerky motion, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

"This isn’t over, Serena."

The words sound like both a threat and a promise as he stalks toward the door, his footsteps heavy on my hardwood floor.

He pauses with his hand on the knob, turning back to fix me with a look that makes my heart race against my will.

"Next time I come for you, I’ll be sober. And you won’t be able to lie to yourself about what you want."

The door slams behind him, rattling in its frame as I’m left standing alone in my living room, trembling with anger and something else I refuse to name.

I slide down the wall until I’m sitting on the floor, my emotions in complete disarray.

How can I possibly be so calm? This was the man I loved for three years.

The heaviness in my chest feels suffocating.

Part of me wants to break down and cry until there’s nothing left, but my rational side insists he’s not worth my tears.

I’ve already divorced him. I can’t jump back into that fire again.

With a heavy sigh, I finally pull myself together and head to bed, though I know sleep will be impossible tonight.