"My sole purpose in coming here was to verify if your legendary chef is the real deal. I am interested in his raw talent and creativity, not some mediocre stand-in!"

He rose from his seat, his sheer presence silencing the room.

"You have wasted my time. This isn't just a failure of competence—it is a failure of integrity."

Alfred Robertson’s gaze pinned Olivia Hayes to the spot. Her face, usually a mask of corporate coldness, had drained of all color. He delivered the final blow: "Ms. Hayes, my rating for the Hayes Group has just hit zero."

Olivia felt a phantom tremor run through her body; a high-pitched ringing drowned out the sounds of the banquet hall.

After a few tense seconds of silence, Robertson shifted gears. "For the sake of my long-standing friendship with your grandfather, I will give you one last chance."

"Within three days, I expect to taste three dishes prepared personally by Ethan Spencer. I want to see him, and I want to verify his skills with my own eyes."

"If you fail, I won't just walk away from this negotiation. I will make sure the industry knows exactly what I’ve seen here tonight."

His voice was cold, lethal, and final. "The Hayes Group and you, personally, will be permanently blacklisted from Robertson Enterprises and all our strategic partners. Consider yourself warned."

With that, his team turned and marched out of the ballroom, leaving the onlookers in stunned silence.

The opulent, high-society cruise party had collapsed into a total disaster.

Olivia stood frozen. The pride that usually defined her features was replaced by a rigid, frantic tension. It was laughable, really—that Ethan, the man she had discarded, now held the lifeblood of her entire conglomerate in his hands.

She turned to her assistant. "Clear my schedule. I’m going to Portsmouth tomorrow."

Even if she had to burn through every resource she had, even if she had to tear the city apart brick by brick, she would find Ethan and drag him back to South City within seventy-two hours.

Damon Meyer watched Olivia, his jaw tight. It was the first time he had ever seen her look so rattled—so weak. The woman who usually navigated boardrooms like a shark, cool and calculating, was falling apart over a man. And that man wasn't him.

Back then, when Damon had stepped out on their relationship to go on a romantic world tour with his art teacher, Olivia hadn't even blinked. She hadn't chased him; she had simply moved on and married Ethan.

Ethan had always been a thorn in his side. Damon couldn't stomach the idea that a man who spent his life in a kitchen could ever be superior to a man of his own status. That was why, even knowing Olivia was married, he had needled her, seduced her, and relentlessly demanded her attention until he finally reclaimed his place as her priority.

Yet, deep down, he knew something was off. Olivia’s heart no longer seemed entirely his.

Ethan’s shadow hung over them, a constant threat. Damon wanted to break him—to see him humiliated, begging, and stripped of his dignity. Only then would he feel secure. Now that they were divorced, this was his golden opportunity. He would marry Olivia, and the woman he wanted would finally be his, once and for all.

Damon reached out, grabbing Olivia’s hand and lacing their fingers together, trying to soothe her. "Olivia, I'll go to Portsmouth with you. We'll find him together."

"Fine," she murmured, distracted. Without even realizing it, she pulled her hand away from his.

Damon froze, his expression darkening into something sinister.

Olivia didn't notice. Her mind was spiraling. Why had Ethan left so suddenly? Why had he sabotaged the biggest night of her career? Was this some twisted game of hard-to-get, or did he actually hate her? The questions pierced her calm facade like thin, icy needles, creating a frantic, unrecognizable restlessness in her chest.