I’m Back, Mr. CEO

She gave him her youth, her loyalty, her heart……only to be betrayed in the cruelest way. Adrian paraded his mistress and their daughter before the world while Serena, carrying his child, was left broken and forgotten. Even her own son was turned against her, calling another woman “Mommy” as if she never existed.

Years later, the woman they all discarded returns. No longer weak, Serena is now the dazzling force behind a global empire. Her ex-husband burns with obsession, the mistress grows desperate to destroy her, and the child she lost to lies begins to see the truth.

“Why now?” Adrian demands, eyes dark with desire.

Serena’s gaze is cold, her smile sharper than glass. “Because this time, I belong to no one… not even you.”

Her rise will be their ruin — and her revenge will be unforgettable.

: The Anniversary That Never Was

SERENA POV:

The candles burned a bit low.

I glanced at my watch again. 8:47 PM. Nothing yet. No texts. No calls. Not even a lie about traffic or last-minute meetings.

The dining room smelled of rosemary and roasted lamb, his favorite. His mother used to cook it for him whenever there was a special occasion. I spent an entire afternoon perfecting the recipe. The table was set perfectly, too: white linens I pressed myself, gold-rimmed chinaware we got as our wedding gift three years back but had never really used, flowers from the market, wine in the decanter giving it a little air.

My hand went to my stomach; a habit formed over the last few weeks. Still flat. Still secret.

Tonight was the night I was supposed to tell him.

I had practiced it a hundred times in every way imaginable: casually, slipping it into conversation while having dinner; dramatic, tossing the sonogram lovingly wrapped inside a gift box on the table; sweet, telling him while feeling his arms around me. But Adrian never held me anymore, so that one was completely out of the question.

The lamb was getting cold. Maybe I should cover it, put it away. Then, if I took that step, I'd have to admit he wasn't coming, and I wasn't ready to do that yet.

My phone buzzed. Finally,

But it wasn't him.

**Clara:** *Turn on the TV. Channel 7. Now.*

My stomach quickly crashed, for Clara never texted like that: very short and urgent, without some emojis and ramblings. Something was wrong.

I grabbed the remote with trembling hands, almost dropping it twice before I got the TV on. The channel changed. A news anchor, too bright, too polished, was shown.

"...the surprise appearance has New York talking tonight. Seen at the Grandeur Hotel gala by CEO Adrian Moore with a mystery woman and child..."

The camera cut away.

There he was.

My husband. My Adrian. Holding court on the red carpet, dressed to the nines in his Tom Ford tuxedo I had taken to the dry cleaners just yesterday and left hanging in his closet. His