CHAPTER 47: CHAPTER 47 MY UNCLE RETURNED TO THE COUNTRY

Serena’s POV

I sat staring at the small velvet box Ryan had just offered to toss for me. God, what a mess.

Was I really going to throw it away?

“Let’s keep it,” I said at last, my voice deliberately light. “Jewelry’s expensive—even if it’s from him. No point wasting perfectly good craftsmanship.”

Julian raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but didn’t press the matter.

“Ready to leave then?” he asked, glancing around. “This showcase is getting rather tedious.”

"God, yes," I sighed, slipping the box into my clutch. "Between the ambush on stage and Ryan’s dramatics, I’ve had enough excitement for one night."

Julian nodded, offering his arm again as we headed toward the exit. I felt Ryan’s eyes burning into my back the entire way out, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of looking back.

The silence in the car was deafening. Julian seemed lost in thought, occasionally glancing my way when he thought I wasn’t looking.

Meanwhile, I couldn’t stop thinking about that damn box burning a hole in my purse and Ryan’s words about wanting one more chance.

It took less than twenty-four hours for everything to explode. My phone started blowing up with notifications the next morning.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," I muttered, staring at the screen in disbelief.

There we were—Ryan and I—plastered across every gossip site and social media platform in the country.

Photos of us on stage together, him placing that ruby necklace around my neck, his fingers lingering against my skin.

The headlines were worse: "Blackwood Power Couple Reuniting?" and "Love Rekindled at Quinn Showcase."

Sure enough, I woke up to twelve missed calls from WhisperStream. When I finally returned his call, he sounded like he was having way too much fun with my misery.

"Good morning, superstar! You and your ex-hubby are trending everywhere! The whole ’jewelry power couple’ angle is really taking off."

"Can you please kill this story?" I groaned, massaging my temples. "Hire whatever trolls or bots you need."

WhisperStream chuckled. "Already tried, sweetheart. No dice. These articles are coming directly from Blackwood-owned media outlets. Someone high up wants this narrative pushed."

He paused dramatically before adding, "Want to see what the fans are saying? They’re shipping you two hard. Some of these edits are actually pretty artistic—"

"No!" I snapped, ending the video call.

I was still glaring at my phone when Julian appeared in my office doorway, looking thunderous.

"You drank all the coffee," he accused, crossing his arms. "The entire pot I made this morning."

"There’s more in the break room," I replied, not looking up from my email.

"I can’t work without proper coffee. You know that." He leaned against my doorframe, unfazed. "You owe me compensation."

I finally looked up. "Compensation? For coffee?"

"Dinner. That new place downtown everyone’s talking about. I already made a reservation."

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. "Why would you—"

"Because you haven’t eaten a proper meal all day, the office is buzzing with gossip about your stage moment with Ryan, and frankly, I could use a good steak." He shrugged. "Two birds, one stone."

My stomach growled traitorously. He was right—I’d been too distracted to eat.

"Fine. But this isn’t a date."

When we arrived at the restaurant, I understood Julian’s true intentions. The place was packed with social media influencers and the see-and-be-seen crowd.

"Let’s sit downstairs," Julian announced loudly as the hostess tried to lead us to the quieter upstairs section. "I love the energy down here!"

He even convinced a couple at a prime window table to take a private booth instead, slipping the maître d’ what must have been a substantial tip.

"These tabloids are ridiculous," he proclaimed dramatically as we sat down. "Creating romance where there’s nothing but professional rivalry. Absolutely shameless!"

That’s when it clicked. The public location, the window seat, the loud commentary—Julian was creating a counter-narrative to the Ryan rumors.

People were already sneaking photos of us with their phones. I felt my anxiety rising.

"You don’t have to do this," I whispered across the table.

Julian smiled, reaching for his water glass. "I refuse to be second fiddle in some online fantasy where you and Blackwood are star-crossed lovers. Besides," he added with a cocky grin, "I’m much more photogenic than he is."

I couldn’t help laughing. "You’re sacrificing yourself for the greater good?"

"Hardly a sacrifice to be seen dining with the Serena Quinn," he replied smoothly. "Now, shall we give them something worth photographing? I recommend the chocolate soufflé—your expression when you taste it will break the internet."

We proceeded to have dinner as if we were completely alone, despite being in the center of the restaurant’s busiest section. By the time we finished dessert, I’d almost forgotten about the paparazzi lurking at nearby tables.

Julian’s plan worked brilliantly. By midnight, the narrative had shifted. Photos and videos of our dinner were everywhere, with comments suggesting WE looked like the real couple, while my stage moment with Ryan appeared more like competitors being forced together.

I was finally starting to relax when my phone rang. Ryan’s name flashed on the screen.

"What do you want?" I answered, not bothering with pleasantries.

"My grandmother wants us to come to dinner tomorrow night," he said without preamble. "My uncle Kane is back from Switzerland. She’s hosting a welcome home dinner."

I froze. Kane Blackwood. The man who’d been sent abroad for "medical treatment" after a mysterious car accident during the company succession battle. The accident that had conveniently secured Ryan’s position at the top.

"I’m divorced, remember? Family dinners aren’t part of the deal anymore."

"Grandmother doesn’t know that," Ryan reminded me tersely. "And Kane’s return is complicated enough without adding that revelation. Please, Serena. Just one dinner."

I sighed deeply. If Evelyn learned about our divorce while dealing with Kane’s return, the shock might be too much for her health.

And if Kane discovered our separation, he might use it as ammunition in whatever game he was playing by returning now.

"Fine. One dinner. But after this, we need to tell your grandmother the truth."

The Blackwood mansion was lit up like a Christmas tree when we arrived the next evening.

Evelyn had clearly gone all out for Kane’s return, which spoke volumes. She’d always had a soft spot for her younger son.

When we entered the living room, I immediately spotted Kane in his wheelchair. His physical appearance might have changed, but those eyes—cold and calculating as a snake’s—were exactly as I remembered them.

"Ryan!" Kane called out, his voice deceptively warm. "And the beautiful Serena. How wonderful to see you both."

Ryan’s hand found the small of my back as we approached, a gesture that seemed protective rather than possessive. I allowed it only because I knew we needed to present a united front.

"Uncle," Ryan nodded. "Welcome home."

Kane’s gaze slid from Ryan to me, then back again. "Three years of marriage now, isn’t it? And still no little ones running around? Hmm."

I felt Ryan stiffen beside me.

Kane’s smile turned predatory. "One begins to wonder if there might be some... performance issues at play." He looked directly at Ryan, the insult unmistakable.

I felt my expression harden.

This was exactly why I hadn’t wanted to come in the first place.

I knew it was only a matter of time before the drama reached me, and sure enough, here it was.

If Grandma caught wind of this, she’d start nagging me about having a kid again.

I’m still not even showing.

I didn’t tell anyone before — mostly because of the divorce.

Looking back, thank God I kept it quiet.

But I can’t shake the feeling that this man is going to stir up something bigger.Something the Blackwood family isn’t ready for.

"Thank heavens! There you boys are," Evelyn’s voice rang out as she approached us from the foyer. "I’ve been waiting at the table for ten minutes!"

Her timing couldn’t have been better.