Chapter 268

Serena’s POV

I closed the door to Vivian’s room quietly, my heart still full from those precious moments with our daughter. Her tiny fingers had wrapped around mine as I sang her favorite lullaby—those small, quiet anchors that made every struggle worth it.

"Did she finally fall asleep?" Ryan asked. He was leaning against the hallway wall, wearing that devastatingly handsome smirk that still made my breath hitch.

"Out like a light," I whispered, walking toward him. "I reminded Mrs. Patterson about the feeding schedule again. Vivian needs the organic formula I prepared, not the store-bought one."

Ryan pulled me into his arms, his scent enveloping me like a familiar, warm blanket. "You’ve already told her three times today, love," he murmured against my hair.

"I just want to make sure everything is perfect while I’m gone," I sighed, leaning my forehead into his chest.

"Come with me," he said suddenly. He took my hand and led me toward our bedroom, the intensity in his gaze making my stomach flutter with a nervous, electric energy.

The moment our bedroom door clicked shut, Ryan’s lips crashed against mine—hungry, desperate, and possessive. My back hit the wall as his hands roamed my body, mapping out the curves he knew so well.

"I’m going to miss you so damn much," he growled against my neck. "Every morning. Every night."

I gasped as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin of my throat. "It’s only for a few weeks," I managed to say, though my fingers were already fumbling with his shirt buttons.

"Too long," he insisted, lifting me effortlessly. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me to the bed. "Way too fucking long."

Our clothes disappeared in a frantic blur of heat and desperate kisses. Ryan’s eyes darkened as he took in the sight of me beneath him, his expression shifting from raw hunger to something more profound.

"God, you’re beautiful," he breathed, his fingers tracing my skin with a reverence that felt like a prayer. "How did I get so lucky?"

I reached up to cup his face, my thumb tracing the line of his jaw. "I ask myself the same question every day."

His lips found mine again, tender this time but no less passionate. Every touch felt like he was memorizing me—storing up the sensations to sustain him through the lonely nights ahead.

"Ryan," I moaned as his mouth traveled down my body, lingering at every sensitive spot. "Please..."

"Patience, love," he teased, his breath hot against my skin. "I want to savor every inch of you before you leave."

Our bodies moved together in that perfect, practiced rhythm we had perfected over the years. Despite everything we’d been through—the cold marriages, the divorces, the secrets—this connection had never dimmed. If anything, the fire had grown more intense with every reunion.

"I love you," he whispered fiercely, his eyes locked onto mine. "Never forget that while you’re across the ocean."

"Never," I promised, meeting his strength with my own.

We lay tangled together afterward, the only sound the steady, rhythmic crashing of our breathing as it returned to normal. My head rested on his chest, and I listened to his heartbeat—the soundtrack of my home.

"London won’t know what hit them," he murmured into the quiet room.

I propped myself up on my elbow to look at him. "What do you mean?"

His eyes were filled with an unshakeable pride as he tucked a stray hair behind my ear. "Dreamland Studio, bursting onto the scene at London Fashion Week with my brilliant wife at the helm? They’re going to be blown away, Serena. Your vision, your talent... it’s unlike anything the industry has seen in a decade."

I felt tears prick at my eyes. After the years spent in the shadows of his career, his faith in mine meant more than any potential business success. "I’m going to make you proud."

"You already do," he replied, pulling me back down against his chest. "Every single day."

We lay there in comfortable silence for a while, the weight of the upcoming trip finally settling in.

"Maybe I should come with you," Ryan suggested suddenly. "I could reschedule the mergers, push back the board meetings..."

I laughed softly against his skin. "And who would run Blackwood Industries? Not to mention Vivian needs at least one of us here to keep her from wrapping Mrs. Patterson around her little finger."

He sighed dramatically. "Fine. But I’m coming to London as soon as the deal closes."

"I’m counting on it. Besides, I need someone to celebrate with when Dreamland takes London by storm."

"Just promise me one thing?" he asked, his tone shifting to something half-joking, half-serious.

"Anything."

"No late nights with charming British investors," he said, pulling me closer.

I poked his ribs playfully. "Jealous already, and I haven't even reached the airport?"

"Always," he admitted shamelessly. "When it comes to you? Always."

As we drifted toward sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, I couldn’t help the strange mix of excitement and apprehension bubbling in my chest. London was a homecoming of sorts—a part of my life Ryan didn't fully understand yet.

My past and my future were about to collide. For tonight, though, I pushed those thoughts aside. I focused only on the warmth of my husband’s arms, storing up the memory of his heartbeat to carry with me across the Atlantic.