Lahat ng Kabanata ng I’m Back, Mr. CEO : Kabanata 61 - Kabanata 70

The emergency custody hearing was scheduled for three days after the gala incident.Three days of media frenzy. Three days of speculation. Three days of me believing, hoping…..that finally, finally I had enough to get my son back.The marks on my wrist had been photographed. Documented by my doctor. Witnessed by dozens of people at the gala. Isabelle was confident. More confident than I’d ever seen her.“This is it,” she’d said that morning. “Adrian showed violence. Lost control. That’s enough to at least get you temporary custody until a full hearing. The judge will have to take this seriously.”But as we sat in the courtroom waiting for Judge Patricia Walters—the same judge who’d ruled against me eight years ago—I felt dread creeping in.Adrian sat across the aisle with his team of lawyers. Four of them. The best money could buy. He looked calm. Composed. Not like a man who’d been caught assaulting his ex-wife on camera.Vivian sat behind him, perfectly styled. Margaret beside her,

I stared at the courthouse defeat on every news channel for exactly twenty-four hours.Then something inside me shifted.Not broke. Not crumbled. Shifted.Adrian thought he’d won. Thought his courthouse victory meant I was finished. Thought I’d crawl back to Paris defeated and broken.He was wrong.The courtroom had taught me something valuable: playing fair didn’t work. Following rules didn’t work. Being the bigger person didn’t work.Adrian had won because he was ruthless. Because he used every connection, every dollar, every weapon at his disposal without hesitation.Fine.If that’s how this game was played, I’d learn the rules.I pulled out my phone. Found Lucas Grant’s number. The one I’d deleted after his sympathetic text.Unblocked it.And called.He answered on the second ring. “Serena?”“Your offer. The investment in ETHEREAL. The partnership. Is it still on the table?”A pause. “Yes. But I thought you said—”“I said I didn’t want ETHEREAL to become a weapon in someone else’s

**Vivian’s POV**She was everywhere.I couldn’t open a magazine, scroll through social media, or turn on the television without seeing her face. S. Moore. The mysterious fashion mogul who’d taken New York by storm.My hand shook as I poured my third glass of wine. It wasn’t even noon yet.“You’re spiraling.”I turned. Melissa stood in the doorway of my bedroom, arms crossed, that look on her face. The one that said she’d been watching me fall apart for weeks and was done being patient about it.“I’m not spiraling,” I said, taking a long drink. “I’m thinking.”“You’re panicking.” She walked in, took the bottle from my hand, set it on the dresser. “And you have every right to be. She’s back, Viv. And she’s not the broken little wife you destroyed.”The words hit like a punch. I wanted to argue, to tell her she was wrong, but my reflection in the mirror told a different story. Dark circles under my eyes. Skin pale from lack of sleep. I looked haunted.Because I was.“I know she will be b

*D-day of the Engagement*The car stopped in front of the Plaza, and my stomach tried to climb out of my throat.“Breathe,” Clara said beside me, her hand finding mine in the dark backseat. “You’ve got this.”I nodded, but I wasn’t sure I believed it. Through the tinted window, I could see the red carpet, the photographers lined up like soldiers, the guests in their glittering gowns and designer suits. Somewhere inside that building, Adrian and Vivian were celebrating their engagement.Their engagement.The words still tasted like poison.“Ready?” our driver asked, hand on the door.No. I wasn’t ready. I’d never be ready to walk into that building and congratulate the man who destroyed me on his future with the woman who stole everything.But I was doing it anyway.“Ready,” I said.The door opened, and the night air hit my face, cool and sharp. I stepped out, one heel on the pavement, then the other. Stood. Straightened. Let my dress fall into place around me.I’d spent three days cho

I was halfway through my second glass of champagne when Margaret cornered me near the bar.“You’ve made your point,” she hissed, a smile still plastered on her face for the benefit of onlookers. “You can leave now.”I turned to face her fully, let my own smile sharpen. “And miss the speeches? I wouldn’t dream of it.”Her eyes narrowed. Over the past few months, we’d danced this dance a dozen times. At charity galas. Courthouse. Society events where our worlds collided and sparks flew. She’d tried everything to put me back in my place, back in the shadows where I belonged.It never worked.“You don’t belong here, Serena.”“Funny. I have an invitation that says otherwise.” I took a sip of champagne, watched her face redden. “But if it makes you feel better, Margaret, I’m not here for Adrian. I’m here because Vivian was foolish enough to invite me. And I never turn down an opportunity to watch desperation in a white dress.”“How dare you—”“Mrs. Moore!” A socialite I vaguely recognized s