Chapter 6

The sharp sound of scissors slicing through strands of hair echoed like a melody of liberation inside Haris’s luxurious apartment. Serena stared at her reflection in the large mirror before her. The long black hair that Dewangga once praised—the same hair he would stroke after belittling her—now fell onto the marble floor in rough, uneven pieces.

When the final strand dropped, Serena stood still.

Her hair now rested at shoulder length, cut into a sharp bob that framed her pale face with a newfound edge of authority. She brushed on light makeup, replacing her soft eyeliner with bold, defined strokes, and finishing with a deep crimson lipstick.

“Goodbye, weak Serena,” she whispered to her reflection.

Haris was already waiting in the living room when she stepped out. He paused for a moment, his eyes scanning her new appearance—a fitted black blazer paired with matching trousers. She no longer looked like prey.

She looked like a predator returning to the wild.

“You look… dangerous,” Haris said with a faint smile.

“That’s the point,” Serena replied calmly. “Is the car ready?”

The Forgotten Office

The office building in South Jakarta wasn’t as grand as Dewangga Investment, but to Serena, it was the beating heart of her life.

Zea Production.

A name that once guaranteed quality on the big screen.

For seven years, Serena had been forbidden by Dewangga to step foot here under the excuse of “focusing on family.”

As she walked into the lobby, a few long-time employees who had remained froze in shock. Their movements halted as they watched their former leader walk in with unmistakable authority.

Inside the director’s office, a bespectacled man named Reno—Serena’s loyal assistant since the beginning of her career—jumped to his feet so abruptly that his chair toppled over.

“M-Ms. Serena?” Reno’s voice trembled, tears welling in his eyes. “I thought… I thought you’d never come back.”

Serena smiled warmly—the only genuine smile she showed that day. She gave Reno a brief hug. “Sorry for making you wait so long, Reno. Thank you for keeping this place alive in secret.”

“As you instructed seven years ago, I’ve been running the production house as a small, under-the-radar company,” Reno reported once they sat down. But his expression quickly darkened. He opened a small safe and pulled out a stack of financial reports. “But there’s a serious problem, Ms. Serena. Something I only fully realized over the past year.”

Serena frowned. “What is it?”

Reno exhaled deeply, pointing at rows of suspicious numbers and outgoing transactions. “During your marriage, Mr. Dewangga used the power of attorney you signed to transfer Zea Production’s assets one by one. He used your assets as collateral for his company’s debts, and even redirected dividends from our past films into his personal accounts.”

Serena took the documents, reading them carefully. The more she read, the colder her blood became.

So this was the truth.

She hadn’t just been betrayed emotionally—she had been systematically robbed.

Dewangga had been draining her wealth to sustain his lavish lifestyle and fund his failing business ambitions.

“He even transferred majority shares of one of our subsidiaries to… Vanes?” Serena hissed, her voice laced with venom.

“That’s right, Ms. Serena,” Reno replied bitterly. “It seems Mr. Dewangga has been building a ‘new nest’ for that woman… using your money.”

The Producer’s Strategy

Serena slammed the documents onto the desk. Her anger no longer burned wildly—it had turned into something far more dangerous: cold calculation.

She closed her eyes briefly, her mind working the way it used to when she planned massive film productions.

“He thinks he can steal from a producer?” Serena let out a quiet, cynical laugh. “He forgot that every single dollar that leaves Zea Production leaves a digital trace. And that power of attorney I signed… has legal loopholes if fraud and abuse of authority can be proven.”

She immediately picked up her phone and called her lawyer, Aditya Wardana.

“Mr. Aditya, I have new ammunition,” Serena said without preamble. “Dewangga committed large-scale asset embezzlement during our marriage. I want you to file for a complete asset freeze on Dewangga Investment—everything tied to Zea Production’s capital. I want him to know what it feels like to lose everything overnight.”

After ending the call, she turned to Reno. “Reno, we have a script to produce. But this time, it’s not for the cinema. We’re launching a full investigative audit. I want you to gather every piece of evidence of Dewangga’s illegal transactions.”

“But Ms. Serena, Dewangga will fight back using his power,” Reno warned.

“Let him fight,” Serena replied calmly. “He thinks I’m just a housewife crying in the corner. He forgot I was negotiating billion-dollar deals before he even knew how to run a company. And Haris Nasution will fully back us.”

Serena stood and walked toward the large window overlooking Jakarta’s bustling streets. She caught her reflection once more.

Her identity had returned.

She was no longer Serena, the broken housewife.

She was Serena Zea—the woman who would make Dewangga and Vanes realize that stealing from a film producer was the biggest mistake in their script.

“Dewangga,” Serena whispered to her reflection, “you built your empire on my land. Now get ready to watch that ground shift… and swallow your empire whole.”

That night, Serena returned to the apartment not with exhaustion, but with a burning sense of purpose. She found Clarisa in the living room, drawing peacefully, with Haris beside her.

“Mom looks different,” Clarisa said innocently, staring at her mother’s new hair.

Serena knelt down and kissed her daughter’s forehead. “Yes, sweetheart. Mommy has woken up from a nightmare. And from now on, no one will ever take what belongs to us again.”