Serena's POV

I woke to the sterile smell of antiseptic and the rhythmic beeping of medical equipment. My entire body felt like it had been trampled by a herd of stampeding horses.

Through blurry vision, I could make out the figure of Simon Graves, Ryan's personal assistant, standing awkwardly near the window of my hospital room.

"Mrs. Blackwood, you're awake," Simon said, his voice betraying relief tinged with discomfort.

"How long have I been here?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Two days," Simon replied. "A fisherman found you washed up near the shore and called emergency services. You had severe blood loss, three broken ribs, and numerous lacerations."

"Where's Ryan?" I asked, my voice raspy from disuse.

The memories came flooding back-the kidnapping, the phone call, my desperate escape into the lake. "Does he know what happened?"

Simon shifted nervously, avoiding eye contact. "Mr. Blackwood is... attending to some important matters. He asked me to stay with you until you regained consciousness."

The hollowness in my chest expanded.

Even now, after I had nearly died, Ryan couldn't be bothered to sit by my bedside. Three years of marriage, and I wasn't worth even a few hours of his time.

"I understand," I said quietly. "You can go now. Thank you for coming."

He simply nodded and left the room.

I sat alone in the hospital bed, my heart aching with cold emptiness. I tried to accept that Ryan didn't love me, but I couldn't help trying to convince myself that maybe he truly did have something important to attend to.

But then the door suddenly opened again.

I thought it might be Simon returning, but when I looked up, I saw a familiar beautiful face framed by golden waves.

My heart sank as Ivy Hart glided in, her face arranged in a mask of concern that didn't reach her eyes.

"Oh, dear Serena!" she exclaimed with theatrical concern, clutching a bouquet of lilies-flowers I was allergic to, as she well knew.

"Everyone at the family house has been absolutely beside themselves with worry!"

She barely paused to breathe before continuing, her tone syrupy sweet.

"Ryan has been so overwhelmed. You know how he gets when the family's reputation is on the line. His wife getting kidnapped? It's been a public relations nightmare."

I remained silent, watching her performance unfold.

"The doctors say you'll make a full recovery," she said, arranging the lilies where their pollen would most easily reach me.

"Though... they did mention some concerning bruising.Ryan's been awfully anxious about how you got yourself into such a situation."

The implication was clear-she was suggesting I had somehow brought this upon myself.

"So Ryan sent you, did he?" I asked coldly, my voice flat and devoid of warmth.

"Of course not," she replied quickly, with mock sincerity. "I only came because... seeing you reminds me so much of my sister. It's sentimental, really."

"Save the act for Ryan," I said, my voice like ice. "I'm not your audience."

Ivy's saccharine smile finally slipped. Her eyes swept over me, "I just thought I'd see how far you had fallen."

Then she stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"Honestly, I'm disappointed you didn't die, but I've gained quite a bit from this, so thank you for your gift. I hope you can recognize your place. In Ryan's eyes, you're nothing."

The verbal dagger struck precisely where she intended-right through my heart.

"But don't worry," she continued sweetly, "Ryan knows his duty to the family includes maintaining appearances with his... stand-in wife."

I stared at her, too exhausted to even feel anger anymore. "Is there something specific you wanted, Ivy?"

"Oh!" she exclaimed, feigning distraction. "I nearly forgot to tell you about the charity gala last night. Ryan made such a generous donation in Sophie's memory. He also bought me a small apartment near NYU."

I knew that place. It was the apartment where Sophie and Ryan had once lived together.

As she spoke, her phone slipped from her hand, clattering to the floor between us. The screen illuminated with a photo that made my blood freeze in my veins.

It showed Ryan carrying Ivy into the Crescent Moon Hotel-the most exclusive venue in the city-his arms wrapped intimately around her waist, her head nestled against his chest.

The timestamp showed 2:17 AM-while I had been fighting for my life in this hospital bed.

"Oops!" Ivy giggled, retrieving her phone. "How clumsy of me. You shouldn't be seeing this right now."

My stomach churned violently. While I lay here broken and bleeding, my husband had been taking my kidnapping as an opportunity to rekindle things with his dead girlfriend's sister.

Something inside me finally snapped.

Three years of silent suffering, of trying to be the perfect wife, of accepting crumbs of attention from a man who had never wanted me-it all culminated in this moment of perfect clarity.

Without hesitation, I reached out and slapped Ivy Hart across her smug face, the crack of skin against skin reverberating through the sterile room.

"You shameless bitch," I hissed, my voice low and dangerous.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice how you've been throwing yourself at my husband for three years? How many times have you 'accidentally' touched him, needed his help, arranged to be alone with him? You're pathetic."

Ivy's hand flew to her reddening cheek, her eyes wide with shock. "How dare you-"

The door swung open, and Ryan Blackwood stood in the threshold, his powerful frame filling the doorway.

His normally immaculate appearance was slightly disheveled, as if he'd dressed in a hurry.

His piercing gray-blue eyes took in the scene-Ivy clutching her cheek, me sitting upright in bed with fury radiating from every pore.

In three swift strides, he was at my bedside, his hand clamping around my wrist with bruising force.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he growled, his face inches from mine.

I met his gaze without flinching, something I'd never done before. "Exactly what I should have done years ago-standing up for myself."

"You will apologize to Ivy immediately," he commanded, his voice dropping to that dangerous tone that had always made me shrink before.

But something had changed within me.

Perhaps it was the near-death experience, or perhaps it was the final, undeniable proof that I meant nothing to him.

Whatever it was, his command washed over me without effect.

"I will not," I replied coldly. "While I was being kidnapped, beaten, and fighting for my life, you were taking her to hotel rooms. I think I'm the one who deserves an apology."

Ryan's eyes widened slightly-the only hint that my defiance had taken him by surprise.

"What hotel?" he said, voice cold and clipped."I've already told you-we're not what you think.And you're forgetting your place, Serena."

"My place?" I laughed bitterly. "My place as your stand-in? Your replacement wife? The convenient body you married because I looked like Sophie?"

"That's enough," he snarled, his fingers tightening around my wrist.

"Ryan, it's okay," Ivy interjected tearfully. "She's clearly traumatized from her ordeal. We should be understanding."

The gentle concern in her voice as she placed her hand on Ryan's arm made me want to vomit. More disgusting was how he immediately softened at her touch.

"The doctor says you'll be discharged tomorrow," Ryan said, abruptly changing the subject. "Simon will arrange for a car to take you home. Once there, you'll remain in our quarters until this incident blows over.

The last thing the Blackwood family needs is gossip about their lady being kidnapped due to her own carelessness."

His words struck me like physical blows. No concern for my wellbeing. No questions about what had happened. Just orders about how I should behave to preserve his precious reputation.

"After I'm discharged," I said quietly, my voice steady despite the storm raging within me, "I want a divorce."

Serena's POV

The room went deathly silent. Ryan stared at me as if I'd spoken in an alien language.

I slipped the wedding band from my finger and tossed it onto the floor at his feet, where it landed with a small, definitive ping.

"Your debt of saving my life was repaid years ago," I continued, each word precise and final. "This replacement game ends now. I'm done being Sophie's shadow."

Ryan's face transformed with shock before darkening with fury. He leaned forward, his hands gripping the rails of my hospital bed until the metal creaked under his strength.

"What did you just say?" he growled, his voice barely above a whisper.

I met his gaze unflinchingly, my eyes as cold as winter ice. "I said I want a divorce."

Ryan's eyes darkened dangerously, his face transforming into a thunderstorm of barely contained rage.

The hospital room's air pressure seemed to drop instantly, the atmosphere becoming suffocating with his dominant presence.

He stared at me with cold intensity, his voice cutting like ice. "Serena, you dare bring up divorce as if it's some kind of game?"

"This isn't a game," I replied steadily. "Our marriage was never real-it was a business arrangement brokered by your grandmother, but you never wanted me, and I'm done pretending otherwise."

His large hand gripped my waist firmly as he pinned me against the bed, his voice low and fierce: "What gives you the right to ask for a divorce? Without me, how would you survive in the outside world?"

I responded coldly: "I'm physically healthy and mentally sound. Why couldn't I survive on my own?"

Ryan clenched his jaw as he stared at me, his gaze growing increasingly cold.

I stared back defiantly, my lips curling into a mocking smile. "Is Mr. Blackwood unwilling to divorce? Don't tell me you'd actually miss having me as Sophie's replacement?"

"You constantly talk about how much you loved Sophie, yet you end up with another woman pretending she's her... don't you find that pathetic?"

The veins on Ryan's hand bulged as his eyes trembled with rage. "Who do you think you are? You're not even worth missing!"

"Good to know," I said, pushing down the ache in my chest as I forced a brittle smile.

"So you should have no problem signing the divorce papers. Even if I die out there, it won't be your concern."

Ryan's nostrils flared, fury radiating off him in silent waves."And what if I refuse?"

"Then I'll go public," I threatened. "I'll tell everyone how the great Ryan Blackwood treats his wife-how he lets her be kidnapped and beaten while he's busy taking another woman to hotel rooms."

Ryan's eyes flashed dangerously. "You wouldn't dare bring family business to the public."

"Try me," I whispered, surprising myself with the steel in my voice.

"I have nothing left to lose."

For a moment, I thought he might actually lunge at me-his body was coiled tight with rage, his eyes burning with a fury I'd never witnessed before.

But then, remarkably, he stepped back.

"Fine," he spat. "You want a divorce? You'll get one. But remember this, Serena-once you walk away from being my wife, you lose everything. My protection, my resources, your position. You'll be nothing but homeless without connections."

I smiled then, a small, sad smile. "I was never anything else to you anyway."

His jaw clenched so tight I could hear his teeth grinding.

Without another word, he turned and stormed from the room, the door slamming behind him with enough force to rattle the medical equipment.

"You've made a terrible mistake," she said at last, voice sharp but trembling at the edges. "No one walks away from Ryan Blackwood."

I let out a tired breath, meeting her eyes without flinching. "Isn't this what you wanted all along?"

She stiffened. "What are you talking about?"

"You wanted me gone. You wanted him. You've had both now."

Ivy opened her mouth, then closed it again, faltering. "I just-"

"I don't care." My voice was flat, final. "Get out, Ivy. And take your damn lilies with you."

When the door closed behind her, I finally allowed the tears I'd been holding back to fall.

Not tears of regret or sadness-but tears of relief, of release. For the first time in three years, I felt something stirring within me that I'd almost forgotten existed.

Hope.

Three days later, I was discharged from the hospital.

I had my lawyer draft divorce papers and send them to Ryan's office. Then I called Maya, my best friend from before my marriage.

"Hey, any chance I could crash at your place for a while?" I asked, trying to sound casual despite the way my hand trembled holding the phone.

"What?" Maya's surprise was evident even through the phone. "Doesn't that wealthy husband of yours own like a dozen properties? Why do you need to stay with me? Some kind of rich people roleplay thing?"

I bit my lip. "I'm divorcing him. Walking away with nothing but what's mine."

There was a shocked silence on the other end before Maya exclaimed, "Are you serious? I thought you said it was love at first sight with him!"

"Yeah, well... I married in the heat of the moment only to discover I was just a clown in his circus," I replied, forcing lightness into my voice. "If it's inconvenient, I can always find a hotel."

"No, no, no! You're absolutely staying with me!" Maya quickly responded. "But listen, Serena... since you're divorcing him and won't be spending all your time orbiting around a man anymore, would you consider coming back to work? To our business?"

"I really need you."She hesitated, then confessed, "Honestly, I'm desperate. Celeste-my most promising designer-is in serious trouble. "

"If I don't find someone to take over her pending orders, I'll be designing jewelry from a cardboard box on the street."

I frowned, caught off guard.

Maya and I had met four years ago, back when we were both junior designers at a small, cutthroat company.

I'd made waves early on, my instinct for jewelry design quickly gaining attention after a few standout pieces earned buzz in the industry.

Eventually, when the company became too restrictive-bleeding us dry without giving credit-we left together, we founded Dreamland Studio, where our creative spirits could truly flourish.

After marrying Ryan, I had transferred all my shares to Maya, and she had been running the business successfully for years. What could have happened so suddenly?

Serena's POV

"How bad is it?" I asked, my brow furrowed with concern.

"It's a mess I can't even begin to explain over the phone," Maya sighed. "Can you come to the studio? I'll show you everything."

Two hours later, I pushed open the familiar glass doors of Dreamland Studio, breathing in the scent of creativity and possibility that had once been my whole world.

Maya spotted me immediately, her red-brown hair bobbing as she rushed toward me, wrapping me in a fierce hug.

"God, I've missed you," she whispered, squeezing me tight.

"Missed you too," I replied, feeling a lump form in my throat. The studio was quieter than I remembered, with several design stations conspicuously empty.

After catching up over coffee in her office, I finally asked the question that had been burning in my mind. "So what happened with Celeste? What's going on with the studio?"

Maya's expression darkened as she pulled up files on her computer. "It's Ivy Hart. She's destroying us."

She explained that our studio was being completely blacklisted by Blackwood Enterprises because Celeste had somehow offended Ivy at a gallery opening last month.

They were facing enormous penalty fees for broken contracts, and Ivy was using Mr.Blackwood's influence to spread rumors that Celeste had plagiarized her designs.

"Look at this," Maya said, turning her screen toward me. "Ivy's latest collection for Hart Creations. Does anything look familiar?"

My blood ran cold as I stared at the designs on screen-they were near-identical to Celeste's work from this month, with only minimal changes to avoid outright copyright infringement.

"I have no doubt Ivy stole them," I said, voice tight. "Celeste would never do something like this."

Maya sighed, glancing at me. "I know. But we don't have proof-and with Mr.Blackwood still protecting her, it won't be easy."

That two-faced bitch.

Just because I was divorcing Ryan didn't mean I'd let this slide.

I don't turn the other cheek.

Every debt would be paid in full. With interest.

Ivy thought she could get away with everything she did to me?

She has no idea who she's dealing with.

Looking at Maya's indignant expression, I gently placed my hand over hers. "Don't worry, I'll handle this. Today."

Maya stared at me in disbelief. "Today? Honey, are you serious? I have a pile of orders waiting for you...I know you are talented, but you aren't made of steel!"

Her concern touched me, it really did.

But what she didn't know was-I had a secret weapon. One she'd never see coming.

"Relax. I've got this. You'll see." I said, reaching for my luggage.

I pulled out a thick portfolio case I'd kept hidden for years-my private collection of designs created during my marriage, never shown to anyone. My secret escape.

As I laid sketch after sketch across Maya's desk, her eyes widened. She reached out as if the pages were made of glass.

"Serena. these are. oh my god, these are masterpieces. You designed all of these while living with him?"

I nodded once. "Whenever he was with Ivy or working late, I designed. These sketches got me through some of my darkest nights. They should be more than enough to keep the studio afloat."

Maya flipped through them again, her awe giving way to gleeful excitement. "Forget keeping us afloat-these could bring the entire industry to its knees. You have to enter the Asian Jewelry Design Competition next week. It's the perfect chance to humiliate Ivy. Publicly. Brutally."

A slow smile tugged at my lips. For the first time in years, I felt powerful."I'm in. If we're doing this, we're doing it right. "

If I'm going to strike back, I'll make it hurt-she needs something permanent to remind her not to mess with me again.

I looked at her, steady and calm."When you send the designs to our partners, tell them clearly:the designer is me. "

"And go ahead and update the studio website too-make it official. I'm back."

I paused, then added with a smirk,"it's time they all remembered who built this place from the ground up.Ivy's reign is over."

Maya's jaw dropped. "Wait-seriously?! You're really coming out of retirement?!"

She looked like she might cry from joy. "When you left the industry, people never stopped talking about your work. Some said your pieces felt like poetry in gold."

I arched an eyebrow. "Well, it's time I start writing again."

Maya hesitated, then blurted, "Then I should return all the studio shares to you-"

I waved her off. "Not now. We've got more urgent things to deal with."

I pulled her laptop toward me, fingers flying across the keys.

As soon as I opened the news page, a flood of headlines popped up-negative press surrounding Celeste's incident and the studio's involvement.

[So much for being a 'genius designer'-guess it's easy when you sleep your way to the top.]

[Heartbroken for Ivy-she earned the final design rights fair and square, and still got assaulted?]

[Time to boycott this trash. And while we're at it, shut down Dreamland Studio too.]

[No! Dreamland was founded by the legendary Lazuli-just because she left doesn't mean we'll forget. Bring her back!]

[We miss Lazuli. The studio's designs died the day she walked away.]

My eyes narrowed. Enough was enough.

Then I contacted an old associate who owed me a favor-a hacker who went by the name "Triton".

Me: I need everything on Ivy and the Celeste incident-real dirt. I want it public by the end of the day.

He responded instantly.

Triton: Holy shit-Serena? You just resurrected my whole damn system. I thought you were dead.

Me: Don't get dramatic. I want this over in 12 hours.

Triton: Say less. Consider it done.

Once I finished, I logged into my long-dormant social media account under the name Lazuli-my identity as a jewelry designer.

I stared at the blinking cursor for a moment. then typed:Justice may be delayed, but it never fails to arrive.

P.S. I'm back.