CHAPTER 31: CHAPTER 31 UNEXPECTED GUEST

Ryan’s POV

WHERE IS SHE? That was the only thought racing through my mind as I walked into Dreamland Studio’s gala.

After overhearing my executives discussing Lazuli’s invitation—an invitation I’d never received—I couldn’t focus on anything else.

I was supposed to be finalizing a critical deal with Thomas Industries tonight, a negotiation I’d been stubbornly holding my ground on for weeks.

Yet the moment I heard those managers whispering about Lazuli’s gala, everything else became secondary.

"Dreamland Jewelry has been making waves recently. All the big players will be at tonight’s event. Would be a shame to miss it," one of them had said.

Another lowered his voice. "But things got messy between us and them. If Mr. Blackwood finds out we went..."

"Who’s gonna tell him? He didn’t even get an invitation. No way he’d show up."

They froze when they noticed me standing there, faces pale as sheets. I could practically see their careers flashing before their eyes.

"Mr. Blackwood... we... we weren’t planning to go," one stammered.

"Just curious about it, that’s all," another added quickly.

"We’ve worked at Blackwood for years, sir. Our loyalty is absolute."

I cut them off with a cold glare. "Shut up. Where’s the invitation?"

They scrambled to hand over the envelopes, desperate to prove their innocence.

"Get out," I muttered, and they scattered like startled pigeons.

Once alone, I examined the invitation. Dreamland Studio’s logo gleamed on the heavy cardstock. Would Serena be there? Of course she would. It was her company’s event.

"Mr. Blackwood, we need to leave for the meeting with Mr. Thomas," Simon reminded me hesitantly. "We’re running late."

I nodded, slipping the invitation into my pocket where it pressed against my chest like a constant reminder.

Throughout dinner, the card’s stiff edge kept jabbing me while Thomas droned on about percentages and profit margins.

My mind was elsewhere, calculating how quickly I could wrap this up and make it to the gala.

"Mr. Thomas, that’s enough," I finally interrupted his lengthy proposal.

He paused mid-sentence, clearly mistaking my impatience for anger at his terms. Before he could backpedal, I surprised everyone in the room—including myself.

"We’ll proceed with your terms. I’ll have my team contact yours with the details tomorrow. I need to leave."

I stood abruptly, ignoring Simon’s bewildered expression.

In three years of negotiations with Thomas’s company, I’d never conceded a single point without exhaustive debate.

Tonight, I’d given him everything he wanted without a fight—all because of a party invitation burning a hole in my pocket.

"Driver, faster," I instructed as we pulled away from the restaurant. My knee bounced impatiently, a nervous habit I thought I’d abandoned years ago.

The gala had already started. Would she still be there? Would she even speak to me if I showed up uninvited?

Relief washed over me when I arrived to find the event in full swing.

Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the crowded ballroom, champagne flutes clinked, and business cards exchanged hands amid polite laughter and strategic conversations.

My eyes scanned the room, finding her immediately, as if there were a spotlight following her movements.

She wore a champagne-colored gown that caught the light with every step, her hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders. She looked different—confident, radiant, completely in her element.

She was surrounded by men—industry executives, investors, designers—all vying for her attention like moths drawn to flame.

She laughed at something one of them said, and I felt an unfamiliar twist in my gut. Was that... jealousy?

Several people noticed my arrival, moving toward me with practiced smiles and rehearsed greetings.

I dismissed them with a single cold glance. Tonight, I had only one purpose.

I walked deliberately toward Serena, my eyes never leaving her face. She was mid-conversation, her voice carrying an authority I’d never heard before.

"Looking forward to our collaboration, Mr. Mason."

"The pleasure is all mine."

"Ms. Quinn, perhaps we could meet for coffee sometime? Or tea, if you prefer."

These men—these vultures—were practically falling over themselves for her attention.

She handled them with graceful diplomacy, neither encouraging nor dismissing anyone outright. She’d become a masterful businesswoman, single-handedly commanding the room.

This woman—confident, charismatic, commanding—seemed like a stranger compared to the wife I remembered.

I pushed through her admirers and positioned myself directly in front of her. Her smile disappeared instantly.

The men around her quickly found excuses to be elsewhere, sensing the tension crackling between us.

Serena set down her untouched champagne flute, the weariness of maintaining her public persona briefly visible in the slight droop of her shoulders before she straightened again.

"How did you get in, Mr. Blackwood? I don’t believe Julian sent you an invitation."

The way my last name rolled off her tongue felt like a slap. Gone was any warmth, any familiarity. She’d put up walls I’d never seen before.

"You’re quite familiar with him, aren’t you?" I couldn’t keep the edge from my voice, my mood darkening further. Was it the way she said Julian’s name? Or was it the memory of all these men surrounding her, hanging on her every word?

"If there’s nothing specific you need, I should continue greeting my other guests."

When she turned to leave, something inside me snapped. My hand shot out, grasping her wrist. Her skin felt warm under my fingers, a sensation I’d almost forgotten.

"Do you have to be like this?" The words came out softer than I’d intended, almost pleading.

Her eyes flashed dangerously. "Mr. Blackwood, release my hand. People are watching. Do you intend to cause a scene?"

She yanked her arm free with surprising strength and took two deliberate steps back, creating distance between us. Her voice dropped to a threatening whisper.

"Ryan Blackwood, enough. This is Dreamland’s business gala. If you ruin tonight, I swear I’ll make you regret it."

This wasn’t the woman I’d married. The docile, accommodating Serena was gone. In her place stood someone fierce and formidable—a lioness protecting her territory.

Had she always been this person beneath the surface? Had I been too blind to see it?

My pulse quickened as I studied her—the fire in her eyes, the determined set of her jaw, the confident way she held herself. She was magnificent.

Captivating. Impossible to ignore.

Is this who she really is? This vibrant, fierce creature who commands attention without even trying?

I can’t look away. I don’t want to.