Serena’s POV
I stood frozen, watching Ivy stared back at . The air between us crackled with tension.
"Well," I finally broke the suffocating silence, "this is uncomfortable."
Ivy quickly composed herself, smoothing her dress with practiced nonchalance. "Serena. What a surprise." Her voice attempted casual pleasantness but landed sowhere between strained and artificial.
I moved further into the room, keeping a safe distance between us. "Is it really a surprise? Ryan invited my design team personally." I kept my tone neutral while watching her carefully for reactions.
"Of course he did," she muttered, fidgeting with her clutch. Her hands were trembling slightly.
Sothing about her seed off. The Ivy I rembered was always perfectly composed, calculating, and confident. This woman looked like she was barely holding it together.
"You seem nervous," I observed casually. "Big plans for the evening?"
Ivy’s eyes darted to mine, then quickly away. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."
I turned to face her directly. "Cut the act, Ivy. I’ve known you long enough to recognize when you’re plotting sothing."
"? Plotting?" She laughed, the sound brittle and forced. "That’s rich coming from you. The woman who swooped in and took everything from ."
I couldn’t help but scoff at that. "Took what, exactly? A loveless marriage to a man who never wanted either of us? A life of being constantly overlooked and dismissed? Please, do explain what precious treasures I stole from you."
Her perfectly manicured hand gripped her clutch so hard her knuckles turned white. "You think you’re so clever, don’t you? Acting like you’re above it all now. But I know the truth. You’re just Ryan’s pathetic little replacent for Sophie."
"At least I had the dignity to walk away," I replied coolly. "While you’re still clinging to scraps of attention like a starving dog."
Sothing in Ivy snapped. With a sudden, violent motion, she swept a nearby vase off the side table, sending it crashing to the floor. Water splashed across the carpet as flower stems scattered everywhere.
"You don’t understand!" she shrieked, her carefully crafted society mask crumbling completely. "You have no idea what I’m dealing with!"
I took a step back, genuinely alard by her outburst. "Ivy, what’s going on with you?"
For a mont, sothing like desperation flashed in her eyes. Then, without warning, she slapped herself hard across the face, leaving an angry red mark on her cheek.
"What the hell are you doing?" I gasped, completely bewildered.
Before I could react further, she crumpled to the floor, sobbing dramatically. The rest room door swung open, and two society won entered, stopping short at the scene before them.
"Oh my god!" one exclaid, rushing to Ivy’s side. "What happened?"
Ivy looked up, tears streaming down her face, her perfectly applied makeup now streaking in tragic rivulets. "I—I just wanted to talk to her," she sobbed, gesturing vaguely in my direction.
More won pushed into the room, drawn by the commotion. Within seconds, I found myself surrounded by accusatory glares and whispers.
"Soone get Mr. Blackwood!"
"Is she okay?"
"What did you do to her?"
I stood there, utterly dumbfounded by how quickly the situation had spiraled. "I didn’t touch her," I stated firmly. "She did this to herself."
No one was listening. They were all too busy helping Ivy to her feet, cooing sympathetically and shooting venomous looks my way.
I caught fragnts of their whispers: "...always been jealous..." "...unstable..."
Ryan appeared at the doorway, his tall fra filling the entrance as he surveyed the chaotic scene. His gaze moved from the broken glass on the floor to Ivy’s tear-streaked face, and finally to , standing alone against the wall.
"What’s going on here?" he demanded, his voice cutting through the chatter.
Ivy imdiately stumbled toward him, clutching at his sleeve. "Ryan, I—I just wanted to talk to her, to make peace, but she got so angry..."
The audacity of her performance was breathtaking.
Had she learned nothing from our past confrontations?
Dreamland had thoroughly outperford her company at every turn, and I’d beco respected in industry circles through hard work, not manipulation.
"You’re seriously going to stand there and lie?" I asked, keeping my voice level despite my rising anger. "You think because there are no security caras in here, you can say whatever you want?"
My mind was clear despite the chaos. What was Ivy’s angle here? Was this just to make Ryan feel sorry for her?
If he truly cared about her, she wouldn’t have been so ignored at the gala tonight.
"Serena, you have everything now," Ivy whimpered, her voice rising to ensure everyone heard.
"Why do you keep coming after ? Look at my dress! I borrowed it for tonight, and now it’s torn! How am I going to return it?"
The room’s attention shifted to her white gown, which indeed had a tear at the shoulder. It did look like it had been ripped in so kind of struggle.
Even if she’d wanted to damage it herself, it would have been difficult to create that particular tear.
More whispers, more judgntal stares. I felt like I was back in that nightmare of my marriage—always the outsider, always presud guilty.
But not this ti.
I wouldn’t let it happen again.
"Let’s be clear about what you’re claiming," I said, my voice cutting through her sobs. "You’re saying I pushed you, tore your dress, and slapped you. Is that right?"
Ivy nodded, raising her tear-filled eyes to mine with practiced innocence. "Isn’t that exactly what happened?"
I smiled coldly. "You’re right."
"What?" She looked genuinely confused.
Before anyone could react, I strode forward on my high heels and did exactly what she claid I’d already done–I slapped her hard across the face.
The room gasped in collective shock. Now both her cheeks were symtrically red.
No one could believe what they’d just witnessed.
The Serena Quinn, respected designer and businesswoman, had just slapped soone in front of dozens of witnesses, including Ryan Blackwood himself.
Ivy looked stunned for a mont before fury replaced her fake tears.
"Serena Quinn! How dare you humiliate like this!" she shrieked.
"I’m just doing what you already claid I did," I replied calmly. "Making your lie into truth."
"Ryan!" Ivy turned to him, clutching her reddened cheek dramatically. "You saw it! She’s just a bully who thinks she can get away with anything!"
I turned to face Ryan too, my eyes challenging him. Was he going to defend Ivy again, just like he always had?
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