CHAPTER 189: CHAPTER 189 THE RETURN OF IVY HART

Author’s POV

Inside Lucian West’s office, the man himself was examining Ivy’s designs with mild curiosity.

"They’ve left?" he asked his assistant without looking up.

"Yes, sir. I’ve run a background check on Ivy Hart. She was indeed quite successful in London several years ago, backed by Blackwood Industries."

"And then?"

"She had a rivalry with Dreamland Studio, was exposed for plagiarism, and Ryan Blackwood personally fired her. It was... quite the scandal."

Lucian raised an eyebrow, setting the portfolio aside. "Ryan Blackwood certainly is unpredictable."

His assistant nodded. "It seems he initially favored her because of Sophie Hart, but after his divorce from Serena, the relationship with Ivy deteriorated."

"What a mess," Lucian said with a hint of amusement. "Sisters who both failed to secure their positions with the Blackwoods."

"Should I reject their application, sir?"

Lucian drummed his fingers on his desk thoughtfully. "Not yet. Having the Hart sisters cause trouble for Blackwood Industries could be... useful. Contact Sophie Hart and tell her sister can start at our design studio. With jewelry season approaching, we could use the extra hands."

When Sophie received the call fifteen minutes later, she couldn’t hide her triumphant smile. Finally, something was going right!

"Of course, sir. I’ll make sure Ivy is ready to start tomorrow," she promised, already calculating how I could leverage this new connection.

Maybe things weren’t so hopeless after all.

Serena’s POV

I don’t get a minute’s peace at this jewelry season gala. The whole event’s buzzing with designers and buyers, everyone trying to outshine each other. With Maya in London, I’m handling this personally, and honestly, I’m already exhausted.

Celeste hovers beside me like a protective shadow. "You sure you’re feeling okay?" she whispers, eyes scanning the crowd. I nod, grateful for her concern.

"I’m fine," I say, but then freeze mid-sentence. Across the glittering room stands Ivy Hart, draped in an ill-fitting white gown, practically throwing herself at every industry exec in sight. My blood pressure instantly spikes.

"Is that... Ivy?" Celeste hisses, her face contorting. "What the hell is she doing here? After everything she did?"

I place a steadying hand on her arm. "Let’s not make a scene. Watch first, react later."

Celeste’s mouth tightens into a thin line, but she nods reluctantly.

We don’t have to wait long. Ivy spots us, and I swear her eyes flash with malicious delight. She raises her chin in that infuriating way, then sashays over, champagne flute clutched between her manicured fingers.

"Well, well, fancy seeing you here," she purrs, her voice dripping with fake sweetness.

Celeste snorts. "Nothing fancy about it. Dreamland was specifically invited. What’s your excuse? Snuck in through the service entrance? And what’s with the costume? Community theater closed tonight?"

Ivy’s plastic smile freezes. I can tell Celeste hit a nerve - that dress is clearly Sophie’s hand-me-down.

"Watch your mouth!" Ivy snaps, composure cracking. "I’m here as a designer for Celestial Gems. I have an invitation, not that it’s any of your business!"

Wait, what? Lucian West hired her? I keep my face neutral, but my mind races. This can’t be coincidence.

Celeste laughs, bitter and sharp. "Designer? Please. Your plagiarism scandal is still trending. Having the nerve to show up at Jewelry Season with that reputation... your face must be thicker than concrete!"

"Laugh while you can," Ivy spits back. "When I rise again, you’ll both regret treating me this way!"

I’ve had enough of this circus. "Celeste, we have actual clients to meet," I say, turning away without acknowledging Ivy’s threat.

As we walk away, I feel Ivy’s eyes boring into my back. She thinks she’s won something by landing at Celestial Gems, but this reeks of Sophie’s meddling. The Hart sisters never operate independently.

"Can you believe her?" Celeste mutters, still fuming. "How did she even get hired at Celestial? That woman is like a cockroach - impossible to get rid of!"

I squeeze her shoulder. "Focus, Celeste. We have that client meeting, remember? The one who loved your emerald collection."

That finally pulls her attention away from Ivy, who’s now flirting shamelessly with a group of middle-aged investors. It’s almost sad watching her work so hard, laying on that fake charm and batting those eyelashes. This used to be beneath her when she had Ryan’s backing.

We’re barely seated at a quiet table when Ivy materializes again, uninvited, sliding into the chair across from us. She fans herself dramatically.

"So lively tonight, isn’t it? And absolutely boiling in here."

Celeste opens her mouth - I can practically see the insult forming - but stops when I shoot her a warning look.

Ivy raises her champagne glass toward us. "We used to be rivals, you know. Almost like old friends reuniting! No need for all this hostility. Who knows? Maybe we’ll collaborate someday."

I can’t help but laugh at her audacity. "Ivy, save your act for someone who might believe it. You were never Dreamland’s rival - you’re not nearly qualified enough for that title."

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as Ivy started her little performance. The moment the waterworks began, I knew exactly what game she was playing.

"Since Mr. West has given you a second chance, you should hold onto it properly instead of stirring up trouble. You might not get another opportunity like this," I said, hitting her right where it hurt.

Ivy’s face turned ashen. She bit her lip, clearly frustrated that I’d cut straight through her act, but she wasn’t ready to openly fight with me just yet. After a brief pause, she somehow managed to conjure up tears, her eyes turning red as she began to sob.

"Miss Quinn, I know you’ve never liked me, but all that happened so long ago. Why can’t you just let it go?" she whimpered, her voice growing louder with each word. "That plagiarism scandal—you framed me! I never did any of it! I’ve finally found another chance, so why won’t you leave me alone?"

Her crying grew increasingly dramatic, drawing attention from everyone around us. God, she was good at this—always had been.

Celeste’s face darkened beside me. She slammed her hand on the table, unable to contain herself. "Ivy, stop with the act already!"

Ivy’s body trembled at the outburst, and she cried even harder, tears streaming down her face in perfect, practiced drops. She looked absolutely pitiful—exactly as she intended.

I felt my face grow cold. This was clearly her plan all along—sitting here waiting for this moment to play victim in public. I tugged at Celeste’s sleeve, signaling her not to engage further.

Celeste’s face remained tight with anger as curious onlookers stared at our table. I could feel her frustration radiating off her.

This woman hadn’t changed one bit. After all this time, she still relied on the same old tricks—act weak, play victim, shed tears.

The worst part? It still fucking worked like a charm.