Chapter 7

Camera flashes exploded one after another in front of the Grand Ballroom lobby of a five-star hotel that night. A long red carpet stretched across the entrance, welcoming top-tier actors, visionary directors, and powerful investors in the entertainment industry. Tonight was the gala premiere of a blockbuster film funded by a major consortium—an event that served as a stage for power and prestige.

Dewangga stepped out of his black Mercedes-Benz with his chin held high. He wore a custom-made tuxedo that fit his tall frame perfectly. On his arm, Vanes clung affectionately. She wore a gold silk gown that subtly emphasized her slightly rounded belly—a silent declaration to the world that she was the new winner in Dewangga’s life.

“Smile, darling,” Dewangga whispered as they approached the line of reporters. “Tonight, we’ll show everyone that my life is much better after getting rid of that parasite.”

Dewangga felt completely in control. Ever since Serena left, he had deliberately brought Vanes to public events, building a narrative that Serena was the problem, while Vanes was the angel who saved him. To him, Serena was nothing but a faded past—a woman who was probably crying in some cramped rental room, counting her remaining money.

“Mr. Dewangga! Who is the beautiful woman beside you?” a reporter shouted.

Dewangga stopped and gave his best smile to the cameras. “This is Vanes, my future wife. And we are expecting a new member of our family,” he said proudly, deliberately provoking public attention.

Vanes smiled triumphantly, feeling she had completely replaced Serena. But suddenly, the buzz around them fell silent. The reporters who had been surrounding them turned toward the entrance gate. Whispers spread like wildfire.

“Who is that?”

“Wait, isn’t that Haris Nasution’s Rolls-Royce?”

“Look at the woman stepping out with him!”

Dewangga frowned, irritated that the attention had shifted. At the end of the red carpet, a luxurious silver car stopped gracefully. The door opened, and a man with unmatched authority—Haris Nasution—stepped out. But he wasn’t the center of attention.

Haris extended his hand into the car, and a woman stepped out with elegant grace.

Dewangga’s heart seemed to stop.

His eyes widened in disbelief.

It was Serena.

But not the Serena he had known for the past seven years.

Gone were the dull house dresses. Gone was the pale face and swollen eyes. The woman before him wore a black haute couture gown with a daring backless design, revealing smooth, radiant skin. Her short hair was styled sleek and modern, giving her a sharp, commanding presence.

Around her neck rested a diamond necklace worth what could easily equal a luxury apartment. But the most striking thing was not her outfit or jewelry—it was her gaze. Serena’s eyes now gleamed with confidence, sharp and fearless.

“Ms. Serena?! Serena Zea is back?!” a senior journalist shouted, immediately abandoning Dewangga.

Within seconds, the crowd of reporters that had once surrounded Dewangga and Vanes rushed toward Serena and Haris. The sound of camera shutters became ten times louder.

“Ms. Serena, is it true you’re returning to film production?”

“What is your relationship with Haris Nasution tonight?”

“Is it true you are currently going through a divorce with Mr. Dewangga?”

Serena stopped in the middle of the red carpet. She didn’t avoid them. Instead, she gave the same professional smile that had once made her the most respected producer in the industry.

“Tonight, I am here by special invitation from Mr. Haris Nasution,” Serena said clearly, her voice calm and authoritative as microphones were held toward her. “And yes, I have a big surprise for the Indonesian film industry coming soon. Zea Production was never dead—it was simply taking a long breath.”

Haris wrapped an arm protectively around Serena’s waist, casting a challenging glance toward Dewangga, who stood frozen several meters away. “Serena is my honored guest tonight. And as her business partner, I will ensure she gets the stage she truly deserves,” Haris added in his steady baritone voice.

Dewangga felt his blood boil. He was being humiliated in public. His pride as a man was torn apart as he watched his wife—the woman he once deemed worthless—shine brighter than anyone else in the room, even under the protection of his greatest rival.

Vanes tightened her grip on Dewangga’s arm, her face pale with jealousy. “Dewangga… how is she here? And why does she look like that?”

Dewangga didn’t answer. He could only stare as Serena began walking toward him. Each step of her heels against the red carpet felt like a blow to his ego.

When Serena stopped right in front of him, Haris stood beside her like an unshakable wall.

“Hello, Dewangga,” Serena said coldly. Her tone was flat, emotionless—as if he were nothing more than a stranger. “Looks like you’re enjoying your party.”

Dewangga tried to steady himself, though his voice trembled with restrained anger. “Serena, what is the meaning of this? Where did you get all this luxury? Aren’t you ashamed to appear like this while our divorce is still ongoing?”

Serena let out a soft, mocking laugh. “Ashamed? Why would I be? You should be asking yourself that, Dewangga. Aren’t you ashamed to bring the woman who destroyed your marriage to a public event like this?”

Her gaze shifted to Vanes, scanning her from head to toe with quiet contempt. “Nice dress, Vanes. Unfortunately, class can’t be bought with money stolen from my accounts.”

“You—!” Vanes snapped, but Haris shot her a sharp look that silenced her instantly.

“Let’s go, Serena,” Haris said calmly. “Important people are waiting for us inside. We don’t have time for low-class drama like this.”

Serena nodded. Before leaving, she leaned close to Dewangga’s ear and whispered just loud enough for him to hear.

“Enjoy the spotlight tonight, Dewangga. Because starting tomorrow… I’ll be the one turning off every light in your life.”

She walked away, leaving Dewangga trembling with rage and humiliation under the camera flashes that now captured his expression of defeat.

As he watched her retreating figure, one terrifying realization dawned on him—

The woman he once oppressed was no longer his prey.

Serena had become a lion again.

And this time, he was on her hunting list.

That night, every entertainment headline carried one dominant story:

“The Return of the Queen: Serena Zea Shakes the Gala Premiere with Haris Nasution.”

As for Dewangga and Vanes?

They were nothing more than a forgotten footnote.