CHAPTER 19: CHAPTER 19 UNWANTED INTRUSION

Ryan’s POV

I stared at the quarterly reports without really seeing them, my mind replaying this morning’s scene with Serena on endless loop.

That dismissive tone in her voice when she called last night a "mistake." The way she practically fled from my car. And that goddamn smile when she read that text message.

"Mr. Blackwood?" Simon’s voice broke through my thoughts. "The board members are waiting in the conference room."

"Cancel it," I snapped, surprising even myself.

Simon blinked. "Sir, this meeting has been scheduled for weeks. The Singapore merger—"

"I said cancel it." I loosened my tie, suddenly feeling like I couldn’t breathe. "Reschedule for tomorrow. Tell them I’m dealing with an urgent personal matter."

As Simon retreated, looking concerned, my phone buzzed. A text from a number I recognized immediately, though I’d never saved it to my contacts.

From: Ivy Hart

Thought you might want to see this. Your ex-wife moves on quickly, doesn’t she?

Attached was a photo of Serena sitting across from a dark-haired man at Harvest & Hearth, one of the most exclusive restaurants downtown.

They were leaning toward each other, and Serena was laughing—really laughing—in a way I hadn’t seen in... had I ever seen her laugh like that?

The man was good-looking in that intellectual, artist way.Well-dressed, confident posture. His hand was stretched across the table, not quite touching hers, but clearly heading in that direction.

"Who the fuck is he?" I muttered, zooming in on the stranger’s face.

My chest tightened painfully. Last night, Serena had been in my arms, responding to my touch with undeniable passion.

And now, barely twelve hours later, she was cozying up to another man?

Had it really meant nothing to her? Was our entire marriage just a lengthy inconvenience she couldn’t wait to escape?

I grabbed my keys and jacket, barking orders to Simon as I stormed past his desk.

"Cancel everything for the rest of the day. Forward any emergencies to my cell."

"But the investors from—"

"Handle it," I cut him off, jabbing the elevator button repeatedly as if that would make it arrive faster.

The drive to Harvest & Hearth was a blur of red lights I barely stopped for and horns blaring at my reckless lane changes.

All I could think about was Serena—my wife, divorce papers be damned—sitting there with another man, probably telling him all about our failed marriage, and the ex-husband who couldn’t give her what she needed—emotionally, of course.

Was she laughing about me? About us? Had anything between us ever been real?

For three years, I’d held myself back, convinced I wasn’t capable of loving anyone after Sophie.

I’d built walls, kept Serena at arm’s length, told myself it was better this way.

But last night had shattered that illusion. With her in my arms, I’d felt something I hadn’t expected—something that terrified me with its intensity.

And now this.

I valeted the car with enough force to make the attendant jump, then strode into the restaurant like I owned the place. The hostess recognized me immediately.

"Mr. Blackwood! We weren’t expecting you today. Would you like your usual table?"

"No," I said curtly, scanning the dining room. "I’m joining someone who’s already here."

And then I saw them. In a corner booth, heads close together, sharing what looked like an intimate conversation.

Serena was gesturing animatedly, her face lit up with excitement about whatever she was explaining. The man watched her with undisguised admiration, hanging on her every word.

Something primal and possessive clawed its way up my throat.

I approached their table, not bothering to announce myself.

Serena spotted me first, her animated expression freezing mid-sentence. The smile died on her lips, replaced by something between shock and annoyance.

Her companion noticed her sudden change and turned to follow her gaze.

When he saw me, his relaxed demeanor didn’t change—if anything, his smile widened slightly, as if my arrival was somehow amusing.

"Ryan," Serena’s voice was flat. "What are you doing here?"

"So this is the infamous Ryan Blackwood,"the man said, standing and extending his hand. "Julian Clarke."

I ignored his hand. "You’re interrupting a private lunch," I said coldly.

Serena’s face flushed with anger. "No, YOU’RE interrupting. What the hell are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," I responded, glaring at Julian. "Moving on rather quickly, aren’t you?"

Julian raised an eyebrow. "I’m an old friend of Serena’s. We were catching up."

"Old friend?" I scoffed. "Strange, she’s never mentioned you."

"Perhaps because you never bothered to ask about her life," he replied smoothly.

I felt my hands curl into fists at my sides. "I’d like a word with my wife. Alone."

"Ex-wife," Serena corrected sharply, her voice cutting through the tension. "And no, you may not have a word with me. I’m having lunch with Julian."

Several diners were now openly watching our exchange. I could see waitstaff hovering nervously nearby.

"Serena," I said, lowering my voice. "Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking."

She shook her head. "Whatever you have to say can wait until I’m not in the middle of lunch with a friend."

"Friend," I repeated, contempt dripping from the word. "Is that what you’re calling it?"

Julian stepped forward. "Look, man, I think you should leave. You’re causing a scene, and clearly Serena isn’t interested in talking right now."

Something in me snapped. Who was this guy to tell me what to do? To act like he knew Serena better than I did?

"Stay out of this," I growled, getting in his face. "This is between me and my wife."

"Ex-wife," both Serena and Julian said in unison, which only infuriated me more.

Serena stood abruptly. "That’s enough. Ryan, either sit down and join us civilly, or leave. Those are your only options."

The restaurant had gone eerily quiet. I could feel eyes on us from every direction.

"Fine," I said through gritted teeth, pulling out a chair and sitting down with more force than necessary. "I’ll join you."

Julian looked at Serena questioningly. She gave him a slight nod, and he reluctantly returned to his seat.

"So, Julian," I said with false civility, "how exactly do you know my... Serena?"

"We met online," he answered, watching me carefully. "Through a design forum. I’ve been following her work for years."

"Online," I repeated flatly. "And you just happened to be in town?"

Julian smiled. "Business trip. When I realized I’d be in the area, I reached out."

"How convenient."

Serena glared at me. "Ryan, either be civil or leave."

A waiter approached cautiously. "Can I get anything for the gentleman who just joined?"

"Scotch. Neat," I said without looking at him.

"It’s barely noon," Serena commented disapprovingly.

"I’m celebrating," I replied sarcastically. "My ex-wife’s new relationship."

Julian looked amused, which only stoked my anger. "We’re not in a relationship," he clarified. "Though I certainly wouldn’t complain if we were."

I stared at him, imagining all the ways I could wipe that smug smile off his face.

Serena rubbed her temples. "This was a mistake. Julian, I’m so sorry about this."

"Don’t apologize for me," I snapped.

"I’m not," she shot back. "I’m apologizing for subjecting him to you."

The waiter returned with my drink. I downed it in one gulp.

"Tell me, Julian," I said, setting the glass down hard. "What exactly are your intentions with Serena?"

Julian laughed outright. "Are you serious right now? What is this, the 1950s?"

"Ryan," Serena hissed, "you lost any right to question who I spend time with when you signed those divorce papers."

"Did I?" I leaned forward. "Then why did you come to my bed last night?"

The color drained from Serena’s face. Julian’s eyes narrowed.

"That was low," she whispered. "Even for you."

"But true," I insisted. "Last night meant something, Serena. You know it did."

Julian stood. "I think I should give you two some space."

As Julian walked away, I turned on Ryan, fury bubbling up so fast it was almost dizzying.