CEO's Regret After I Divorced Chapter 94 Drug him

Sophie’s POV

The invitation arrived like a gift from heaven. Harrison Wells’ exclusive gala dinner—and I was specifically requested. I smiled as the departnt assistant handed the embossed envelope, aware that every eye in the office was on .

"My, my," whispered a coworker loudly enough for to hear. "Looks like soone’s getting special treatnt."

I tucked the invitation into my designer purse, feigning modesty. "It’s just because I handled the preliminary work on the Wells project."

I’d learned my lesson after last ti. No more bragging or flaunting my connection to Ryan. I’d play the humble professional until I got what I wanted.

At five o’clock, I made my excuses to the departnt manager and left early, using the gala preparations as my reason. Instead of heading ho, I took a taxi straight to Kane’s penthouse.

Kane was waiting in his wheelchair, a crystal tumbler of scotch in his hand. His hair glead under the recessed lighting of his minimalist living room.

"You’ve done well," he acknowledged, raising his glass slightly.

I allowed myself a small smile. "Wells and Ryan are set to finalize their partnership. But Ryan’s not going to be an easy target—we need to be careful."

Kane studied , his green eyes calculating. "What do you need from today?"

I perched on the arm of a leather chair, crossing my legs deliberately. "The gala dinner is coming up. I need sothing that will ensure Ryan rembers fondly."

Kane reached into his pocket and produced a small vial of fine white powder.

"This should do the trick. It’s tasteless, odorless, and quite potent. One dose, and he’ll be unable to resist whoever’s closest."

I took the vial, excitent coursing through . "And if I can get him alone..."

"Then you’ll have your second chance," Kane finished, raising his glass again. "The dress is in the guest room. Rember our deal—once you have him back, I expect access to the Blackwood shipping routes."

I poured myself a drink from Kane’s bar cart, my red lipstick leaving a mark on the crystal glass. My eyes glinted with determination as I raised it in a toast.

"Don’t worry, Kane. By the end of the night, Ryan Blackwood will be eating out of my hand. I guarantee it."

---

The night of the gala arrived, and the famous Cliffside Manor was transford into a wonderland of lights and luxury. I arrived fashionably late, my dress a masterpiece of subtle seduction—seemingly modest in bright lighting, but designed to catch the eye in the dimr corners where important conversations happened.

With champagne flute in hand, I positioned myself near the entrance, waiting for Ryan. My stomach dropped when I saw him walk in—not alone, but with her. Serena Quinn, looking annoyingly radiant in a deep erald gown that hugged her pregnant curves beautifully.

"Damn it," I muttered under my breath. This was an unexpected complication.

I watched as Harrison Wells greeted them warmly, his eyes lingering appreciatively on Serena. Ryan’s possessive hand at the small of her back made want to scream.

I took a deep breath and composed myself. The plan could still work—I just needed to separate them.

After twenty minutes of strategic mingling, I approached their little group, a practiced smile on my face.

"Mr. Wells, Mr. Blackwood—good evening," I greeted smoothly before turning to Serena with practiced surprise. "Oh! Serena, I didn’t realize you’d be here. You look... glowing."

Serena’s smile was polite but cool. "Sophie. It’s been a while."

"Ms. Hart!" Wells exclaid, clearly pleased to see . "I was just telling Ryan how impressed I’ve been with your work on our collaboration."

"That’s very generous of you," I replied modestly, positioning myself between Ryan and Serena. "I’m just a small part of the Blackwood team."

"Don’t be so modest," Wells insisted. "Your insights on market penetration were revolutionary."

I seized the opportunity. "Perhaps I could show you those projection charts we discussed? I brought copies with ."

Wells nodded eagerly. "Excellent idea! Ryan, you don’t mind if I steal Ms. Hart for a mont, do you?"

Ryan looked slightly relieved, which stung. "Not at all."

As Wells and I moved away, I caught Serena watching with suspicious eyes. She wasn’t as naive as she looked.

After fifteen minutes of technical discussion with Wells—during which I made sure to laugh at his jokes and touch his arm just enough to be flattering but not inappropriate—I excused myself to "freshen up."

In the bathroom, I carefully mixed Kane’s powder into one of two identical champagne flutes I’d prepared. Then I returned to the ballroom, scanning for Ryan.

He was alone at last, Serena having been pulled into conversation with so designer across the room. Perfect timing.

I approached him with a warm smile, carrying the two champagne flutes. "You look like you could use a fresh drink."

Ryan eyed warily. "I’m fine, Sophie."

"Please," I said softly, extending the drugged flute toward him. "I want to apologize for how things ended between us. No strings attached, just... closure."

After a mont’s hesitation, he accepted the glass. "Fine. To closure."

We clinked glasses, and I watched with barely contained anticipation as he took a generous sip.

Within monts, his eyes began to lose their sharp focus, pupils dilating slightly. The drug was working even faster than I’d anticipated.

He frowned, tugging uncomfortably at his collar. "Is it hot in here?"

"Ryan? Are you alright?" I asked, letting false concern drip from every word. "You look terribly flushed."

"I’m..." He paused, swallowing hard as he fumbled with his tie, his usually precise movents becoming clumsy. "Sothing’s wrong. I feel strange—dizzy."

I hid my smile behind my glass. "Maybe so air would help? There’s a lovely terrace just through those doors."

Ryan nodded, swaying slightly. "Air. Good idea."

I quickly moved to his side, slipping my arm around his waist as he stumbled. "Here, let help you," I cooed, guiding his unsteady steps toward the terrace doors. His weight leaned heavily against as we made our way outside.

Once on the terrace, I helped him over to the stone balustrade.

"Ryan," I purred, pressing myself against his side. "Let take care of you. You’re not feeling well."

"Sophie?" he blinked hard, trying to focus. "What’s happening?"

"Shh," I soothed, running my hands up his chest. "Just relax. Rember how good we were together? Don’t you miss at all?"

I reached up to kiss him, but even in his drugged state, he turned his head away.

"No," he mumbled. "Need to find Serena."

Frustration surged through . "Forget about her! I’m here now. I’m the one who understands you, who’s always loved you."

I pressed my body fully against his, my lips finding his neck. For a mont, his body tensed, and I thought I’d won. But then his hands found my shoulders and firmly pushed away.

"Stop," he said, his voice slurred but determined. "Need to go. Not feeling right."

Before I could try again, the terrace doors opened, and Serena stepped out. Her eyes widened at the scene before her—Ryan clearly drugged, with sared lipstick.

"Ryan," she called, her voice surprisingly calm. "Co inside. We need to leave."

To my utter disbelief, he imdiately moved toward her voice like a homing beacon. Even drugged out of his mind, he chose her.

I watched, seething, as Serena wrapped her arm around his waist, supporting him. As they passed , she paused.

"I know what you did to his drink," she said quietly, her voice carrying a steel I’d never heard before. "I wonder what HR would think about an employee drugging the CEO?"

My blood ran cold. "You can’t prove anything."

She smiled, the gesture lacking any warmth. "I don’t need to. Ryan will rember enough. And unlike you, he actually does trust ."

With that, she guided him back into the ballroom, leaving alone on the terrace, my carefully laid plans in ruins.

But this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.