Author’s POV
Sophie stared at her phone screen, her eyes narrowing as she watched Ryan’s press conference unfold. She hadn’t expected him to go this far—kneeling down in front of all those reporters, presenting a ring to Serena, all to publicly defend her reputation.
"Unbelievable," she muttered, watching Ryan’s adoring gaze fixed on Serena. The familiar twist of jealousy coiled in her stomach, distorting her features into an ugly grimace.
She couldn’t bear to watch Serena’s reaction, hitting the pause button before the clip finished. Her perfectly manicured nails dug crescents into her palm as she closed the browser window with a forceful tap.
Finding a secluded corner in the busy café, Sophie quickly dialed Lucian’s number, glancing nervously over her shoulder to ensure no one was within earshot.
The call connected after three rings. Lucian’s cool, asured voice ca through clearly, though Sophie could detect the underlying tension. He too had seen the press conference—Ryan Blackwood’s grand public declaration had caught them both off guard.
"Miss Hart, your competence appears to be... lacking," he said, his voice dripping with disdain.
Sophie bit her lip hard enough to taste blood. "Mr. West, Ryan is already investigating this matter. I need you to help cover my tracks."
Lucian responded with a cold, dismissive laugh. "You fail to deliver results and still expect my assistance? On what grounds?"
"This is just the beginning," Sophie insisted, lowering her voice further as a waitress passed by. "Even if Serena manages to weather this scandal, keeping around will prove useful to you in the future."
"And if Ryan’s investigation leads back to ? That wouldn’t benefit either of us, would it?"
Sophie’s pulse quickened. She knew she couldn’t handle Ryan’s resources and connections alone. She needed Lucian’s protection—needed an ally with enough power to shield her from the inevitable fallout.
After what felt like an eternity, Lucian finally broke the silence. "Very well. I’ll extend my assistance this once."
"Thank you, Mr. West," Sophie exhaled with relief. "Next ti, I promise I won’t disappoint you."
After ending the call, Lucian glanced toward his assistant who stood attentively by his desk, the city skyline stretching out behind them through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse office.
"Have you taken care of covering Miss Hart’s involvent?" he asked, loosening his silk tie slightly.
"Yes, sir. We’ve redirected the digital trail and paid off the necessary parties."
Lucian nodded, running his finger thoughtfully along the edge of his mahogany desk. "What about the invitation to the celebration gala? Has it been delivered?"
"It has, sir. Miss Quinn will likely attend."
"Good." Lucian’s lips curved into a satisfied smile. "Make all the necessary arrangents. This ti, we need to ensure Serena moves one step closer to us."
"Understood, Mr. West," his assistant replied with a slight bow, already ntally cataloging the tasks ahead.
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Serena’s POV
The night of the celebration gala arrived faster than I expected.Celeste and I got to the venue early, but as soon as we stepped out of the car, I spotted Ryan following close behind us.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, unable to hide my surprise.The invitation hadn’t included Blackwood Enterprises at all.
"I wasn’t comfortable with you eting Lucian alone," he said, his eyes scanning the entrance. "So I decided to accompany you."
"Fine, you can co," I conceded, "but this is a celebration gala. Don’t pull any ridiculous stunts tonight." I fixed him with my sternest glare. "I an it."
Perhaps the impromptu proposal attempt at the press conference had traumatized more than I realized.
I was constantly on edge around Ryan now, terrified he might try another grand public gesture when I least expected it.
Ryan furrowed his brow, looking sowhat hurt, but nodded in agreent nonetheless.
I presented my invitation to the doorman, who examined it carefully before glancing at Ryan with uncertainty. Ryan’s face was instantly recognizable in the city - everyone knew who he was.
The doorman seed conflicted about letting him in when Blackwood Enterprises wasn’t on the guest list.
Before the poor man could figure out how to politely refuse entry to one of the most powerful n in the country, Ryan smoothly interjected.
"I’m Miss Quinn’s plus one. Essentially part of Dreamland Studio’s entourage."
I almost snorted at that. Plus-one? Team mber? The man owned half the city!
"That’s right," I added, playing along despite myself. "This gala celebrates our successful collaboration. Bringing a guest isn’t exactly outrageous."
The doorman wisely decided not to argue with us and waved all three of us inside.
Once in the grand ballroom, Celeste leaned close, whispering, "Damn, Serena. Celestial Gems really went all out. The champagne alone probably costs more than my monthly rent."
I nodded absently, surveying the opulent space with its crystal chandeliers and marble floors. Turning slightly toward Ryan, I asked in a low voice, "Lucian didn’t send Blackwood an invitation? That’s... interesting."
Ryan made a noncommittal sound, his expression unreadable. I studied his face, searching for clues.
"That’s practically unheard of. Nobody in this city dares exclude Blackwood from major events," I pressed. "Is there so bad blood between you two that I should know about?"
Ryan’s eyes darkened montarily as if rembering sothing unpleasant. Instead of answering, he deflected.
"Let’s find sowhere to sit. It’s still early."
We found a quiet table in the corner.
Celeste made a speedy exit the mont more guests started arriving."I see the Vogue editor who featured our collection. I should go say hello," she announced before scurrying away.
With Celeste gone, the atmosphere relaxed slightly.
I sipped my sparkling water, scanning the room. Many familiar faces dotted the crowd, but with Celeste handling the social butterfly role, I felt content to remain in my corner, observing.
I’d grown surprisingly comfortable with avoiding these networking duties lately. Maybe I was getting lazy—or maybe I was just tired of the ga.
Several business owners spotted Ryan and approached, eager to make conversation with the elusive Blackwood heir. Ryan maintained his trademark cool deanor, answering with polite but minimal engagent.
The n dropped increasingly obvious hints about potential partnerships, practically salivating at the opportunity to connect with him.
Ryan cut one particularly persistent man off with a pointed look. "I apologize, but I’m here accompanying Serena tonight. No business talk. Have your assistant contact mine for a proper eting."
Their attention swiveled to , eyes widening slightly as they processed this information. They offered hasty complints about Dreamland’s "remarkable growth" and "innovative designs" before retreating.
"That was almost impressive," I murmured once they’d gone. "You actually redirected without completely freezing them out."
Ryan’s lips quirked. "I can be diplomatic when necessary."
After what felt like an eternity of small talk and champagne-sipping, the man of the hour finally made his entrance.
Lucian West glided into the room wearing an impeccably tailored white suit that contrasted sharply with his dark features.
He greeted various guests with practiced charm before making a beeline directly toward us. Beside , I felt Ryan’s body tense, his expression cooling several degrees.
I stood to greet Lucian, plastering on my professional smile. "Mr. West, good evening."
Lucian nodded to before glancing at Ryan. "Mr. Blackwood, your presence tonight truly elevates our humble gathering."
Ryan’s lips curved into the barest hint of a smile, remaining seated. "You flatter , Mr. West. Tonight I’m here as Serena’s guest, not as a representative of Blackwood Enterprises."
Sothing flashed in Lucian’s eyes, but he quickly turning to invite to mingle with the other guests.
I agreed readily enough, but when Lucian extended his arm for to take, the temperature around Ryan seed to drop ten degrees. I could practically feel his jealousy radiating like a physical force.
I laughed awkwardly, already sensing the testosterone-fueled tension building. Instead of taking Lucian’s arm, I grabbed my drink. "Lead the way, Mr. West."
Lucian recovered gracefully, lowering his arm without comnt as we walked together toward the center of the room.
We stood side by side while Lucian gave a brief welco speech, thanking everyone for coming to celebrate the successful collaboration.
I noticed he barely ntioned Dreamland Studio’s contribution, focusing instead on Celestial Gems’ "visionary direction" and "market leadership."
The mont the formalities ended, Ryan materialized at my side as if teleported there. I was still chatting with potential clients when I felt his warm presence behind , a silent but unmistakable claim of ownership.
After his public display at the press conference, everyone in the room knew exactly what was between us—or what Ryan wanted between us, anyway.
"Mr. Blackwood and Ms. Quinn make such a striking couple," one jewelry distributor comnted with a knowing smile. "When the happy announcent cos, please don’t forget to send an invitation our way."
"Indeed," another chid in. "The city hasn’t seen such an exciting match in years."
"Mr. Blackwood must be quite devoted, accompanying you to a business celebration that isn’t even his," added a third with a aningful look.
Ryan’s expression softened at these remarks, clearly pleased by the public acknowledgnt of our connection—forr connection, I ntally corrected myself.
I forced a smile, offering vague pleasantries before steering the conversation back to business matters.
Ryan stayed silent but remained my shadow, following two steps behind everywhere I went. I noticed several envious glances from won around the room.
Eventually, Ryan’s phone rang with what sounded like an important call. Seeing I was deep in conversation with a potential investor, he gestured that he’d step outside to take it.
When I finished my discussion and realized Ryan had disappeared. Scanning the room, I decided to find Celeste—we needed to coordinate our departure strategy.
As I made my way across the crowded floor, I heard a startled cry behind .
"Oh my goodness!"
I turned just in ti to see a woman stumble on her stiletto heel, sending her half-full glass of red wine flying—directly onto my cream-colored designer dress.
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