CHAPTER 82: CHAPTER 82 SOPHIE AND RYAN HAVE RECONCILED

Serena’s POV

I took a deep, shaky breath, my fingers tightening around the necklace Ryan had given me. I needed to know.

I had to hear it from him, to finally understand why that night had gone so wrong.

The memory of being trapped, helpless, the cold fear creeping into every part of me... it still made my chest ache. Every time I thought about it, my pulse spiked, my hands trembled.

"That night I was kidnapped," I began, watching his face darken at the memory. "I called you for help, but Ivy answered your phone. She told me..." My voice faltered. "She told me you were busy—with her—and couldn’t be disturbed."

Ryan’s expression changed from confusion to shock to cold fury in rapid succession. "What? I was at the office all night. Ivy was nowhere near me or my phone."

"Then how did she answer when I called?" My fingers tightened around my glass.

"I’d left my personal phone at home that day," he said slowly, realization dawning in his eyes. "I was using my backup phone for urgent calls. Ivy must have..." He closed his eyes briefly, fury evident in the rigid set of his jaw. "She deliberately kept your call from me."

"Why would you even have let her into your home?" I couldn’t keep the hurt from my voice.

"I didn’t," Ryan said grimly. "My housekeeper let her in when she claimed she had documents I needed. I never saw her that night—I was working until dawn trying to close the Henderson deal." His eyes met mine, intense with regret. "If I’d known you were in danger, nothing would have kept me from you. Nothing. And now... I’ll make sure Sophia stays away. I just need one more chance with you."

The conviction in his voice made my throat tight. All this time, I’d thought he’d chosen Ivy over me in my moment of need.

"I believed her," I whispered. "That’s why I told you I wanted a divorce after that night. I thought you’d gone back to her."

Ryan reached across the table, taking my hand in his. This time, I didn’t pull away.

"Serena, there has never been anything between Ivy and me—not before you, not during our marriage, not after. She’s been trying to manipulate her way into my life for years."

"But Sophie—"

"Was my past," he said firmly. His thumb brushed across my knuckles. "I’d rather risk everything than lose you again."

When Ryan drove me home later, the silence between us was charged but not uncomfortable. He walked me to my door, maintaining that same respectful distance that now felt more like consideration than coldness.

"Would you have dinner with me again?" he asked as I unlocked my door. "Perhaps next week?"

I turned to look at him, my hand unconsciously rising to touch the necklace at my throat. "I’d like that," I found myself saying, surprising us both.

The smile that crossed his face then was genuine, warming his eyes in a way I’d rarely seen. "Goodnight, Serena," he said, then leaned in slowly, giving me plenty of time to pull away.

I didn’t. His lips brushed my cheek, light as a whisper, before he stepped back.

"Goodnight, Ryan," I replied, slipping inside and closing the door before I could change my mind and invite him in.

I leaned against the door, my fingers still touching the necklace, wondering if I was making a terrible mistake or finally giving us both a chance to heal.

That night, I slept better than I had in months, waking to bright sunshine streaming through my curtains. For once, I felt hopeful, almost lighthearted as I stretched and got out of bed. Maybe, just maybe, things could be different this time.

I made coffee and wandered to the window, planning my day. Maybe I’d call Maya, tell her about dinner. Maybe I’d even go to the studio and work on those sketches that had been giving me trouble—inspiration suddenly seemed abundant this morning.

The doorbell rang, interrupting my thoughts. Too early for deliveries, and Maya never showed up before noon on weekends. Maybe Ryan had sent flowers?

I opened the door, coffee mug still in hand, only to freeze in shock.

Ivy Hart stood on my doorstep, her perfect face curved in a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

"Serena, darling!" she exclaimed, as if we were old friends. "Hope I’m not interrupting your morning. May I come in? We have so much to catch up on."

The coffee mug nearly slipped from my fingers as my perfect morning shattered around me.

"What do you want?" I managed to keep my voice steady despite the shock of seeing her here—at my home, my sanctuary.

"Aren’t you going to invite me in? Where are your manners, Serena?" She tilted her head, golden waves cascading perfectly over one shoulder.

I looked her up and down, anger replacing my initial shock. "You’re hardly a guest. We’re enemies, aren’t we? Or have you conveniently forgotten everything you’ve done?"

Ivy let out a cold snort, her sweet facade cracking momentarily. "Fine, stay out here then. I’m just being kind enough to warn you—Sophie and Ryan have reconciled. You should stop embarrassing yourself by chasing after him."

My heart clenched painfully. "What are you talking about?"

"I’m not making this up! See for yourself." She pulled out her phone with manicured fingers, tapping the screen with dramatic flair before turning it toward me.

My eyes locked onto Sophie’s social media post. The background was unmistakably the master bedroom at Ryan’s house. My stomach dropped. The caption read: "Perfect sunshine, endless love."

Just as sickeningly sweet as Sophie herself.

The lounge chair on the balcony—I’d bought that myself before our divorce, a place where I could soak up sunshine and forget my troubles. Now this woman was using it, contaminating it with her presence. I suddenly felt the chair was tainted.

"See it clearly now?" Ivy’s voice dripped with satisfaction. "If they weren’t back together, why would my sister be living at the Blackwood estate? Serena, you’re really just fooling yourself!"

She slipped her phone back into her purse with deliberate slowness, clearly enjoying how my expression was changing. Her pleasure at my pain was palpable.

I gripped the doorknob tightly, feeling the blood drain from my face. I didn’t want to believe Ivy’s words, but that photo couldn’t be faked. I’d personally chosen that lounge chair, remembered every detail of it.

"If you don’t believe me, go see for yourself," Ivy continued, crossing her arms. "My sister is being waited on hand and foot, surrounded by admirers."

Her eyes flicked briefly to my midsection, her smile turning cruel. "If you’re smart, you’ll stop clinging to Ryan. Or better yet... get rid of that baby. Imagine how sad—a child born without a father."

Seeing the identical ugliness between the two sisters’ expressions, I raised my hand and slapped her hard across the face before I even realized what I was doing.

"Shut your mouth!" I snapped.

Ivy hadn’t expected me to react physically. She couldn’t dodge in time. The slap connected solidly, leaving an instant red mark blooming across her cheek.