Serena’s POV

After severing ties with LUXE, Elegant Realm had no shortage of suitors. Design studios from across the industry were practically lining up at my door, eager to fill the vacancy. But I wasn’t about to make another hasty decision. This time, I would carefully evaluate each potential partner—even if it meant delaying our expansion plans.

Some called my approach overly cautious. I called it strategic.

Rather than pursuing temporary collaborations, I’d decided to establish a permanent branch office here. Within days, I’d secured prime real estate in the heart of downtown—a penthouse office space where rent costs made even me wince when signing the lease.

"The location projects the right image," I told myself, running my fingers along the pristine quartz countertop in what would become our reception area. The space needed minimal renovation, which was fortunate given our timeline.

For a foreign-based studio like Elegant Realm, first impressions were everything. We’d earned our reputation as the year’s breakthrough design firm in Europe, but here we were still the newcomers. I wouldn’t give the established studios any reason to dismiss us.

I was reviewing furniture placement options with Sally, my assistant, when Cedric burst through the door without warning. His normally composed demeanor was noticeably strained, his brow furrowed with concern.

"Serena," he said without preamble, "how could you make such a significant decision without consulting me first?"

I glanced up from the floor plans, momentarily startled by his intrusion. Lucy’s eyes darted between us before she mumbled something about checking on material samples and made a swift exit.

"Consult you?" I replied, my tone cooling. "Expanding into the Europe market is the natural progression for Elegant Realm. I wasn’t aware I needed permission."

Cedric ran a hand through his hair, a gesture I recognized as his attempt to remain calm. "When you first mentioned returning, you said it was for potential collaborations. Now you’ve leased an entire office floor. Are you planning to relocate permanently?"

I met his gaze directly. "Yes. My plans evolved after arriving."

"And you didn’t think that warranted a discussion?" His voice held that quiet intensity I’d grown familiar with—the careful control masking deeper emotions.

"This is my company, Cedric." My words were measured but firm. "I make the final decisions."

"There’s something else," I continued before he could respond. "Rancy starts preschool today. I’ve enrolled her here instead of back in Bangkok. We won’t be returning anytime soon."

The shift in his expression was subtle but unmistakable—a tightening around the eyes, a slight pallor beneath his tan. This wasn’t merely a business disagreement anymore.

"Serena, you can’t be serious. These decisions affect both of you," he argued, his composure slipping. "Rancy needs stability, a proper environment. With your schedule, how do you plan to manage?"

"My daughter will always be my first priority," I replied, the edge in my voice making it clear this wasn’t negotiable. "I’ve handled both motherhood and building a business from the ground up for three years. I believe I’ve proven my capability."

Cedric opened his mouth to respond, but I cut him off. "I respect our friendship and your input on business matters, but this decision is made. I hope you can respect that."

The tension between us stretched, neither willing to back down. Finally, his phone buzzed, breaking the stalemate. After checking the screen, he mumbled something about an urgent call and left without further argument.

I watched him go, feeling a familiar pang of guilt that I quickly suppressed. Cedric had been there through some of my darkest moments, but I couldn’t let emotional attachments dictate my business decisions—or my choices for Rancy.

Glancing at my watch, I realized it was nearly pickup time. I quickly finished giving Sallyinstructions about the office furnishings.

"Handle the interior details and use the corporate account for expenses," I told her. "I trust your judgment—no need to consult me on every item."

Twenty minutes later, I pulled my car into the circular drive of Bright Horizons Preschool, one of the city’s most prestigious preschools. The parking area resembled a luxury car showcase—Bentleys and Maseratis lined up alongside Range Rovers and Mercedes.

“Rancy!” I called, waving.

Her face lit up instantly.

“Mommy!”

She let go of her teacher’s hand and toddled into a run—more enthusiasm than coordination—throwing herself against me with a happy squeal.

I caught her just in time, laughing softly as I lifted her up. Her cheeks were warm, her eyes bright, her whole little body humming with excitement.

“Hi, sweetheart,” I murmured, brushing her hair back. “Did you have a good day?”

She nodded hard. “Fun!”

“Fun?” I echoed, smiling. “What did you do?”

“Snack.” She grinned proudly. “I help.”

Relief loosened something tight in my chest. I kissed her temple. “That sounds wonderful.”

Then she suddenly wriggled in my arms, twisting around.

“Oh—!” She pointed. “Vivian!”

Her small hand flapped enthusiastically in the air. “Bye-bye! See you!”

I followed her gesture—and froze.

A little girl stood a few steps away, dark curls framing a delicate face. There was something unsettlingly familiar in the shape of her eyes, the slight lift of her brows, the quiet curve of her smile.

The girl looked back at Rancy, then at me.

“Hello,” she said politely, her voice clear but soft.

I set Rancy down, my heartbeat suddenly uneven.

Rancy tugged my sleeve. “Mommy.”

She pointed again, as if this explained everything. “Vivian. Friend.”

“Friend?” I asked gently.

Rancy nodded. “She give candy.”

She dug into her backpack, pulling out a crinkled little packet of cloud-shaped sweets and holding it up like a treasure.

“That was very kind of you,” I said, meeting the other child’s eyes. “Thank you for sharing with her.”

Vivian smiled, then studied my face more closely. Her head tilted, just slightly.

“You look like my mommy,” she said matter-of-factly.

The words landed with quiet force.

Before I could respond, a man’s voice called out from behind us.