Chapter 5
That night, Callum insisted on taking me to meet his family.
"Already?" I said, looking down at my now slightly wrinkled wedding dress. "I'm not exactly presentable."
He opened a garment bag that had appeared in his office like magic. Inside was a deep blue evening dress, my exact size.
"Diana handled it," he said. "I told you. Whatever you need."
Twenty minutes later, I was changed, touched up, and sitting across from his mother in a private dining room at the Reed estate.
Victoria Reed was exactly what I expected. Silver hair swept into an elegant knot, posture that could cut glass, and eyes that missed nothing.
She studied me for approximately four seconds before speaking.
"So you're the woman who made my son break every rule he's ever set for himself."
"Mom," Callum said.
"Hush." She didn't look away from me. "Married at City Hall. No prenup. No announcement. Not even a proper ring." Her gaze dropped to my bare hand. "Callum, where is the ring?"
He reached into his jacket pocket and produced a velvet box. When he opened it, I stopped breathing.
A flawless emerald-cut diamond, easily six carats, flanked by sapphires on a platinum band.
"I was saving it," he said. "Wanted to give it to her properly."
He turned to me, took my left hand, and slid it on. It fit perfectly.
Victoria watched the whole thing with an expression that slowly shifted from skepticism to something warmer.
"You walked out of a wedding today," she said to me. "In front of everyone. That takes nerve."
"Or self-respect," I replied.
She smiled. Actually smiled.
"I like her," she told Callum. "Don't mess this up."
Dinner was surprisingly easy after that. Victoria asked about my work, my education, my family. She already knew most of the answers—clearly Callum wasn't the only Reed who did their research—but she seemed to want to hear them from me directly.
By dessert, she was telling me about Callum's childhood fear of thunderstorms.
"Mom," he said again, this time with actual pain in his voice.
I laughed for the first time that day. A real laugh.
When we left, Callum walked me to the car, his hand resting on the small of my back.
"You handled her better than most Fortune 500 CEOs," he said.
"She's direct. I like direct."
He opened my door, then paused.
"Serena. I know today has been... a lot. You don't have to come home with me tonight. I have a guest penthouse you can use. Full privacy. No pressure."
Something in my chest tightened. After four years with Dylan, who'd never once asked what I was comfortable with, this small act of consideration hit harder than it should have.
"Thank you," I said. "The guest penthouse sounds perfect."
He nodded. No disappointment. No guilt trip. Just acceptance.
"I'll have Diana send breakfast options in the morning," he said. "And Serena?"
"Yes?"
"Check the news at nine."
I looked at him curiously, but he just smiled and closed my door.
At exactly nine the next morning, I turned on my phone.
Every major financial outlet was running the same headline.
**REED GLOBAL PULLS ALL FUNDING FROM LAWSON CONSTRUCTION. CITES "MATERIAL FRAUD AND BREACH OF FIDUCIARY DUTY." LAWSON STOCK DOWN 40% IN PRE-MARKET TRADING.**
My phone rang instantly. Dylan.
I answered, smiling.
"Good morning."
"WHAT DID YOU DO?" His voice was raw. Hysterical. "YOU DESTROYED MY COMPANY! MY FAMILY IS RUINED!"
"Funny," I said lightly. "That's what you tried to do to mine yesterday with that lawsuit."
"I'LL KILL YOU. I'LL—"
"Dylan." My voice went cold. "You're on a recorded line. Choose your next words very carefully."
Silence. Heavy breathing.
Then he hung up.
I set my phone down and took a sip of the coffee Diana had delivered. The view from the penthouse was stunning. The whole city laid out below.
My phone buzzed again. This time, a text from Amber.
[We need to talk. Name the place. Please, Serena. I'm begging you.]
I stared at it for a long moment.
Then I typed back: [The Reed Global lobby. Tomorrow. 10 a.m. Don't be late.]
"Already?" I said, looking down at my now slightly wrinkled wedding dress. "I'm not exactly presentable."
He opened a garment bag that had appeared in his office like magic. Inside was a deep blue evening dress, my exact size.
"Diana handled it," he said. "I told you. Whatever you need."
Twenty minutes later, I was changed, touched up, and sitting across from his mother in a private dining room at the Reed estate.
Victoria Reed was exactly what I expected. Silver hair swept into an elegant knot, posture that could cut glass, and eyes that missed nothing.
She studied me for approximately four seconds before speaking.
"So you're the woman who made my son break every rule he's ever set for himself."
"Mom," Callum said.
"Hush." She didn't look away from me. "Married at City Hall. No prenup. No announcement. Not even a proper ring." Her gaze dropped to my bare hand. "Callum, where is the ring?"
He reached into his jacket pocket and produced a velvet box. When he opened it, I stopped breathing.
A flawless emerald-cut diamond, easily six carats, flanked by sapphires on a platinum band.
"I was saving it," he said. "Wanted to give it to her properly."
He turned to me, took my left hand, and slid it on. It fit perfectly.
Victoria watched the whole thing with an expression that slowly shifted from skepticism to something warmer.
"You walked out of a wedding today," she said to me. "In front of everyone. That takes nerve."
"Or self-respect," I replied.
She smiled. Actually smiled.
"I like her," she told Callum. "Don't mess this up."
Dinner was surprisingly easy after that. Victoria asked about my work, my education, my family. She already knew most of the answers—clearly Callum wasn't the only Reed who did their research—but she seemed to want to hear them from me directly.
By dessert, she was telling me about Callum's childhood fear of thunderstorms.
"Mom," he said again, this time with actual pain in his voice.
I laughed for the first time that day. A real laugh.
When we left, Callum walked me to the car, his hand resting on the small of my back.
"You handled her better than most Fortune 500 CEOs," he said.
"She's direct. I like direct."
He opened my door, then paused.
"Serena. I know today has been... a lot. You don't have to come home with me tonight. I have a guest penthouse you can use. Full privacy. No pressure."
Something in my chest tightened. After four years with Dylan, who'd never once asked what I was comfortable with, this small act of consideration hit harder than it should have.
"Thank you," I said. "The guest penthouse sounds perfect."
He nodded. No disappointment. No guilt trip. Just acceptance.
"I'll have Diana send breakfast options in the morning," he said. "And Serena?"
"Yes?"
"Check the news at nine."
I looked at him curiously, but he just smiled and closed my door.
At exactly nine the next morning, I turned on my phone.
Every major financial outlet was running the same headline.
**REED GLOBAL PULLS ALL FUNDING FROM LAWSON CONSTRUCTION. CITES "MATERIAL FRAUD AND BREACH OF FIDUCIARY DUTY." LAWSON STOCK DOWN 40% IN PRE-MARKET TRADING.**
My phone rang instantly. Dylan.
I answered, smiling.
"Good morning."
"WHAT DID YOU DO?" His voice was raw. Hysterical. "YOU DESTROYED MY COMPANY! MY FAMILY IS RUINED!"
"Funny," I said lightly. "That's what you tried to do to mine yesterday with that lawsuit."
"I'LL KILL YOU. I'LL—"
"Dylan." My voice went cold. "You're on a recorded line. Choose your next words very carefully."
Silence. Heavy breathing.
Then he hung up.
I set my phone down and took a sip of the coffee Diana had delivered. The view from the penthouse was stunning. The whole city laid out below.
My phone buzzed again. This time, a text from Amber.
[We need to talk. Name the place. Please, Serena. I'm begging you.]
I stared at it for a long moment.
Then I typed back: [The Reed Global lobby. Tomorrow. 10 a.m. Don't be late.]