The Ex-Wife They Begged To Keep - Chapter 10: Chapter 10

Albert glanced at Serena, then turned to Victor. "Victor, go home. I need to talk to Seri."
"Dad, she hurt Leon. And she forged the divorce papers," Victor said.
Albert shot him a sharp look, and Victor swallowed his words.
"That's enough," Albert barked. "Stop making a scene."
Victor wanted to say more, but Albert's glare shut him up. He clenched his jaw, feeling a surge of anger bubbling in his chest like a volcano on the verge of erupting.
Victor thought, 'Serena actually forged the divorce agreement.' His fists tightened, his fingernails digging into his palms. After a long silence, Victor turned and left the police station without another word.
Albert took Serena to a quiet café. She had once been his ideal choice for a daughter-in-law. But now, she felt like a stranger.
Albert broke the silence first. "Seri, what really happened?"
Serena gently stirred her coffee. "Albert, it was my fault. Leon was being difficult, but I'm his mother. It's not wrong for me to discipline my own child, is it?"
Albert paused for a moment and remarked, "Still, that's no way to treat a child."
"I understand, Albert. Here's the divorce agreement. Victor already signed it." Serena handed him the document, her voice calm and unreadable.
"Seri, is there anything else you want?" Albert looked at Victor's signature on the divorce agreement.
"Albert, we had an agreement. What you gave me is more than enough." Serena gently set her cup down. She then questioned, "But with the way Victor is now, do you really think he's qualified to be an heir?"
Albert frowned as he listened, then picked up his coffee cup and took a sip. The warm liquid did nothing to ease his tension. "There's an important business dinner party the night after tomorrow. I want you to attend with Victor."
Serena frowned slightly and hesitated. She thought of how kind Albert had once been to her. Even if things had fallen apart with Victor, she still remembered that kindness.
In the end, she nodded. "Alright, Albert."
"Thank you, Seri," Albert said.
Serena stood up, picked up her handbag, and gave Albert a slight nod. "If there's nothing else, I'll be heading out."
After leaving the café, Albert pulled out his phone and called Victor.
"Hey, Dad," Victor answered.
"Victor, you signed the divorce papers yourself. There's nothing more to discuss," Albert spoke.
Victor's voice came through, full of disbelief. "You agreed to it?"
"Yes. But you're taking Seri to the business dinner party the night after tomorrow."
"Why? We're already divorced. What's the point of pretending? I'm not taking her."
"Victor, just look at what you've become."
"But I already promised I'd take Ellie."
"That's enough. I'm not asking."
Albert ended the call. The flat dial tone echoed in Victor's ear, making his irritation grow.
Victor thought, 'I've already signed the divorce papers, and Serena's still tagging along to the dinner party. She's just pulling these tricks to get my attention.'
"Vic, what's wrong? Did something happen?" Eliza asked.
Victor looked up and saw her. He got up and walked over to her. "Ellie, my dad wants me to take Serena to the dinner party the night after tomorrow." Frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair.
Eliza's expression faltered for a second. "It's fine, Vic. After all, Mr. Powell's just thinking of what's best for you. Mrs. Powell is your wife, after all."
"Ellie, I'm sorry. I did promise you," Victor said with a sigh.
Inside the lavish party venue, Serena wore a simple black dress that highlighted her striking beauty and outstandingly graceful presence.
"Serena, I'm warning you—don't pull any stunts. And stop targeting Ellie," Victor muttered under his breath, threatening Serena.
"Victor, we're already divorced. What would I even want from you?" Serena slowly raised her hand, gently brushing the faint imprint where her ring used to be.
She thought, 'What would I want? The cold shoulder he gave me day after day, or the way he never stopped loving Eliza?'
"Mr. Powell, I've heard a lot about you." A middle-aged man named Marco Watson approached with a glass of wine, interrupting their conversation.
Victor raised his glass politely. "Mr. Watson, nice to meet you."
"This must be Mrs. Powell," Marco said, noticing Serena standing next to Victor.
"Hello, Mr. Watson. I'm Serena," she replied courteously.
"Mr. Powell, I've long heard that your wife is both beautiful and brilliant. Now that I've seen her in person, I can say the praise was well-deserved," Marco remarked.
Serena smiled politely but didn't respond.
"Mr. Powell, a toast to you. You're a rising star," Marco chuckled.
"You flatter me, Mr. Watson," Victor responded.
"No, really, you're far too modest," Marco said.
Victor took a small sip from his glass of wine, his expression unreadable. "Mr. Watson, I heard you're developing a new project. Any chance we might collaborate?"
"If I could partner with Powell Group, I'm sure it'd be a win-win," Marco answered, though his sleazy gaze slid toward Serena with a look that made his intentions all too clear.
Just then, Victor's phone buzzed. Marco's stare made Serena deeply uncomfortable. She shifted uncomfortably, taking a small step to the side, trying to escape that disgusting gaze. But her eyes couldn't help drifting to Victor's phone screen.
"Hello?" Victor answered the call.
Serena knew it was Eliza on the other end. Whatever Eliza said, Victor's expression changed instantly.
"I'll be right there." He hung up and turned to leave.
Serena grabbed Victor's arm, her face tense. "Victor, this partnership with Mr. Watson is important."
"Ellie's not feeling well. I need to check on her. And you're still here, aren't you?" Victor didn't spare Serena a glance as he turned and walked out of the party venue without looking back.
Marco stood awkwardly to the side and cleared his throat. "Mrs. Powell, Mr. Powell just—"
Serena looked away, forcing her emotions down. "I'm sorry, Mr. Watson. My husband got an urgent matter to attend to."
The stares around her felt like needles against her skin. Whispered voices buzzed from every corner.
Someone said, "Is that Mrs. Powell? I heard Mr. Powell doesn't even care about her. He only brought her to please his father."
Another chimed in, "No kidding. Did you see how gentle he was with Eliza? I heard they grew up together."
Someone else sighed, "Being a rich man's wife isn't as glamorous as it looks. What's the point of being beautiful if it gets her nowhere?"
The venue was full of luxury and laughter, but Serena felt like the air was thinning, and it was getting harder to breathe.
She instinctively clasped her hands in front of her, her fingertips gently rubbing against each other, trying to calm her nerves.
Serena thought, 'To them, I'm probably nothing more than a pathetic woman abandoned by her husband.'
She figured that since Victor had left, there was no way the collaboration could go on. Swallowing the frustration, Serena turned and left the party venue.
She had meant to get some air in the garden, but Marco followed close behind, refusing to let it go. "Mr. Powell's not around. Mrs. Powell, how about having a drink with me instead?" he offered.
As Marco spoke, he picked up the wine bottle, reaching to pour Serena a glass.
Serena subtly shifted away. "Mr. Watson, I can't really hold my liquor, so I'll have to pass."
"Come on, Mrs. Powell, don't turn me down like that. Just one glass," Marco insisted.
Serena's brows drew together. If she refused, Marco clearly wouldn't let it go easily.
Pushing down her disgust, she forced herself to reach for the glass, her slender fingers trembling slightly. The clear liquid swirled gently in the glass, catching the strained smile on her face in its reflection.
For the sake of this deal, Serena had no choice but to endure all this. She thought, 'Just this once. I'll count it as paying back the Powell family.'
Tilting her head, she took a small sip. The liquor burned going down. She fought to keep her expression steady, but her pale fingertips gave away her pain.
"That's more like it, Mrs. Powell. You've got quite the tolerance," Marco chuckled.
The people around them burst into laughter, their eyes flickering with something off.
Before long, Serena's vision began to blur. She felt like the noise around her faded behind a thick haze.
Her heart sank as she thought, 'Something's wrong with this drink. He drugged it.'
"Mrs. Powell, are you okay? Not feeling well? Want me to take you to a room to rest?" Marco asked.
At some point, he had already moved in close. His breath, thick with the smell of alcohol, hit her from the side, making her stomach turn.
Serena shoved him hard, but he caught her wrist. "Don't be scared, Mrs. Powell. I'll take good care of you, better than Mr. Powell ever did," he said with a sleazy grin.
"Piss off. Don't touch me." Serena struggled hard, stomping down on Marco's foot with all her strength.
"Ow!" Marco yelped in pain and instinctively let go.
'Victor. Victor,' Serena screamed that name over and over in her mind.
She staggered to her feet, took a few shaky steps forward, and used the last of her strength to call Victor. The call was cut off. All she heard was the busy tone.
Marco sneered, "Mrs. Powell, Mr. Powell doesn't want you anymore. You might as well come with me. Let me take good care of you."
In that moment, Serena felt completely numb, as if all hope had drained from her. Before she could react, Marco lunged at her.