CHAPTER 57: CHAPTER 57 IVY’S PLAN

Serena’s POV

A camera suddenly shoved into my face made me blink against the harsh lights. Someone thrust a microphone toward me, the show’s producers clearly delighted by this unexpected drama.

I could practically see dollar signs in their eyes as they eagerly milked this moment for ratings.

I had no choice but to take the microphone.

My mind raced—I couldn’t coldly reject Julian in front of everyone, but I also couldn’t encourage false hopes. God, why did he have to do this here?

"I certainly know you’re a wonderful man, Julian," I said, injecting a teasing tone into my voice while my heart hammered uncomfortably.

"But using me for publicity like this? I might have to dock your pay!"

The audience laughed, breaking the tension. Over their chuckles, I watched Julian’s smile slowly fade around the edges, his eyes dimming slightly.

He understood my meaning perfectly—this was my gentle rejection wrapped in humor to spare us both public embarrassment.

"I hope everyone will continue supporting Dreamland Studio. Thank you!" I added quickly, flashing a peace sign toward the cameras while desperately wishing I could disappear.

Julian smoothly recovered, his professionalism kicking in. "Did you all hear that? This is the capitalist exploitation I deal with daily!"

More laughter followed, but I caught glimpses of the livestream comments flashing across a nearby monitor:

"My ship is sinking before it even sailed!"

"Some love stories never get their chance..."

"I refuse to believe this! They’re definitely secretly in love!"

No matter how much these internet strangers tried to convince themselves otherwise, everyone in the room knew the "Julian-Serena" romance had been firmly shut down.

I felt a pang of guilt seeing how passionately some viewers had invested in a relationship that never existed.

After his presentation, Julian didn’t return to his seat but left the venue entirely. I watched him go, sighing quietly.

I hadn’t expected this complication. Would things ever be the same between us at the studio?

Maya leaned toward me, her perfume carrying notes of jasmine as she whispered, "Why turn him down? Julian is charming, talented, and clearly adores you."

"You’re hopeless with men, you know that?" she added teasingly, nudging my shoulder.

I rolled my eyes at my friend’s matchmaking attempt, too distracted to formulate a proper response.

"Not now, Maya," I whispered back, my throat tight with emotions I couldn’t quite name.

The next presenter was Ivy Hart. The moment her work appeared on screen, I winced internally. The designs were basic at best, derivative at worst.

The comments section flooded with brutal criticism—some downright vicious. Even I felt a flicker of sympathy despite everything she’d done to me.

Ivy wore an unusually loose-fitting dress today that did nothing for her petite frame—strange for someone normally obsessed with appearances.

It hung from her shoulders like a shapeless cloud, making her look oddly vulnerable. It was as if she’d given up trying.

"Hello everyone," she began nervously, her voice higher than usual. "My theme today is ’Secret Love.’"

I straightened in my seat, suddenly alert. Something felt off.

"Since childhood, I’ve carried someone in my heart. He’s handsome, powerful, a prominent figure in our capital. From the first moment I saw him, I fell deeply in love."

My stomach tightened. Everyone knew she was referring to Ryan. Her obsession with him was no secret, but to declare it so publicly during a professional jewelry presentation? This was beyond inappropriate.

The event organizer’s face darkened with displeasure. I overheard him snapping at his staff, demanding to know how she’d been approved to present. Apparently, there had been a last-minute swap no one had authorized.

Kane’s doing? I wondered, connecting the dots. This smelled like his particular brand of manipulation.

As Ivy continued gushing about her "secret love" while completely ignoring the actual jewelry, the main screen abruptly went black.

"Sorry, Designer Hart, we’re experiencing technical difficulties. Please step down from the stage," a staff member announced, attempting damage control.

Ivy’s face froze, her expression flashing from shock to fury. She clearly wasn’t done with whatever she had planned.

My instincts screamed danger. This wasn’t just about an inappropriate presentation—something else was brewing.

Then, as if on cue, Ivy began dramatically gagging on stage. The audience gasped collectively as she doubled over, making retching sounds while somehow managing to speak between them.

"It’s just—" *gag* "—my special condition—" *gag* "—nothing to worry about!"

My blood ran cold as her meaning became clear. The livestream comments exploded:

"Is she PREGNANT?!"

"Look at her loose dress! That explains everything!"

"OMG is it Ryan Blackwood’s baby?? SCANDAL!"

I felt myself go rigid, my fingers unconsciously digging into my palms so hard they left crescent marks. The possibility hit me like a physical blow.

Ivy pregnant? With Ryan’s child?

What about my own pregnancy that I’d kept secret from everyone, including Ryan himself? I’d been planning to tell him on my own terms, when I was ready. Now this?

A thousand thoughts crashed through my mind like a tsunami. Was she lying? She had to be. But what if she wasn’t? Ryan and I had been separated for months. Legally, he could do whatever—and whoever—he wanted.

My vision narrowed, the room suddenly feeling too hot, too crowded. I forced myself to take deep, measured breaths.

"Serena? Are you okay?" Maya whispered, concern etching her features. "You’ve gone white as a sheet."

"I’m fine," I managed, though the words felt like shards of glass in my throat. "Just another of Ivy’s cheap performances."

But as event staff escorted a still-dramatically-gagging Ivy off stage, I couldn’t ignore the seed of doubt taking root in my heart. Ryan wouldn’t... would he?

And if he had—where did that leave me and my unborn child?

Maya gripped my hand tightly, grounding me. "Don’t believe a word of it, Serena. That woman’s full of it. She’s just doing this to get under your skin—it’s pure retaliation."

I nodded stiffly, trying to calm my racing heart, but her words barely sank in. I couldn’t stop the images flashing through my mind, or the chaos erupting online.

By the time the jewelry showcase ended, the hashtags were already trending:

#IvyThrowsUpOnStage

#RyanBlackwoodLoveChild

#ScandalousPastRevealed

I scrolled through them one by one, numb. And then I saw it—

A photo. Blurry, but unmistakably real.

Ryan, holding Ivy in his arms, walking toward the entrance of a hotel.

My breath caught. My vision blurred.

And then I remembered it—that night, tied up in that cold, dark room, listening helplessly as muffled moans echoed through the walls.

The sound of them.

My stomach turned.

And then—everything went black.