บททั้งหมดของ CEO's Regret After I Divorced: บทที่ 291 - บทที่ 300

Author’s POVThe music swelled through the grand ballroom, conversations hushed as all eyes turned toward the dance floor. Ryan guided Serena with practiced ease, their movements fluid and synchronized as if they'd been dancing together their entire lives. The way his hand rested at the small of her back, the elegant arch of her neck, the perfect distance between their bodies, it was a masterclass in ballroom etiquette.Though Elena Parker stood with her new husband in the traditional spot of honor, the guests' attention had clearly shifted. Whispers rippled through the crowd."Look at them move...""Did you see her dress? Beautiful...""He never takes his eyes off her, does he? The way Blackwood looks at her..."Elena's painted smile grew increasingly brittle as she watched the couple commanding the floor. What should have been her moment—her big day—was being effortlessly usurped by the woman she'd hoped to humiliate. Her fingers tightened around Jasper's arm until he winced."They'r

Serena’s POVI let the satisfaction of Elena Parker's wedding disaster linger a bit longer as I settled into the familiar rhythm of Quinn family life. Things had improved considerably since that night. Ethan was suddenly buried in meetings with potential partners, while I worked alongside Zara to cement our collaboration with LUXE Jewelry. Slowly but surely, Quinn Enterprises was regaining its footing in London's competitive business landscape.Father's condition was improving too, not dramatically, but steadily. The doctors seemed more optimistic with each passing day. Maybe we were finally turning a corner.Then everything shattered.The call came at 2 AM. Ethan's car had veered off the road after leaving a business dinner. The police called it an accident, but I knew better. The timing was too perfect, the circumstances too convenient.I spent three days barely leaving the hospital, watching Ethan's unmoving form, willing him to open his eyes. He didn't. The doctors couldn't tell us

Serena's POVThe tension in Ryan's shoulders was visible as he paced our living room, his suit jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Night had fallen over London, casting long shadows across our penthouse apartment."I'm almost certain it was Parker," Ryan said, his voice low and dangerous. "Everything points to him."I kicked off my heels, curling my legs beneath me on the sofa. "Do we have actual evidence?""Not enough." Ryan's frustration was palpable as he ran a hand through his hair. "The driver won't talk. Whoever's paying him is either very generous or very threatening.""Or both," I added grimly.Ryan nodded, pouring two glasses of scotch and handing one to me. "My security team is working on it. The driver has a sister in Manchester with two kids. If money's his motivation, we might be able to offer more.""And if it's fear?""Then we need to find out what he's afraid of," Ryan replied, sitting beside me. "Everyone has a breaking point."I took a long sip, welcomi

Serena’s POVThe news hit me like a freight train. The driver who'd nearly killed my brother had suddenly "confessed" in prison and then committed suicide. His family in Manchester had vanished without a trace. The police delivered this information with clinical detachment, but Ryan and I knew immediately what had happened."They're tying up loose ends," Ryan muttered as we exited the police station, his jaw tight with barely controlled anger.I felt numb, disgusted by the callousness of it all. Yes, the driver bore responsibility for his actions, but he'd been a pawn, expendable in Parker and Edward's eyes. Another life sacrificed on the altar of their ambition.The afternoon sun felt inappropriately bright against my mood as I stepped onto the sidewalk. Detective Reynolds followed us out, her expression sympathetic."Serena," she said softly, touching my arm. "I know what you're thinking. That driver wasn't innocent."I nodded mechanically, though it offered little comfort. The drive

Serena's POVAs the morning sun filtered through the heavy curtains of our London townhouse, I found myself staring at my laptop screen, a chill running down my spine despite the warmth of the room."Ryan," I called out, my voice barely above a whisper. "You need to see this."Ryan appeared in the doorway of our bedroom, his hair still damp from the shower, a towel draped around his shoulders. The moment he saw my expression, his casual demeanor shifted, instantly alert."What is it?" he asked, crossing the room in three long strides.I turned the screen toward him, revealing a series of emails I'd received from an anonymous sender who identified themselves only as "Triton." The subject line read: "The Truth About Ethan's Accident.""These are financial transactions between the Parker family and a known criminal organization," I explained, my finger tracing across the screen. "Look at the dates—three payments. One before Ethan's accident, one immediately after, and a final installment