Chapter 339

Ryan’s POV

I stared at the array of birthday party catalogs spread across my expansive mahogany desk, watching my six-year-old daughter flip through them with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. Vivian’s dark hair fell forward as she leaned in, studying each page with an intensity I rarely saw in her. The afternoon sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my office cast a warm glow on her small features, so reminiscent of her mother’s.

"What about this one, Daddy?" Vivian pointed to an elaborate princess-themed party setup. "Do you think Rancy would like it?"

I couldn’t help but smile. In the three years since Serena left us, I’d never seen Vivian this invested in anything related to socializing with other children. She’d always been reserved, preferring books and quiet activities to boisterous play. But this friendship with Rancy had sparked something new in her.

"Is this party for you or for Rancy?" I asked gently, smoothing back a strand of her hair.

Vivian looked up at me with those piercing gray-blue eyes—my eyes—and said with complete seriousness, "For both of us. But I want Rancy to feel special when she comes."

I leaned back in my chair, studying my daughter. "Tell me more about this Rancy. She must be quite something to have captured my little girl’s attention like this."

Vivian’s face lit up immediately. "She’s amazing, Daddy! She knows all about stars and planets—even more than me! And she never makes fun of anyone, not even when Tommy spilled juice all over himself." She paused, then added with solemnity that only a child could muster, "And she shares her cookies. The good ones her mom makes, not the store ones."

"High praise indeed," I chuckled, genuinely touched by my daughter’s enthusiasm.

"And her mom is really nice too," Vivian continued, turning another page in the catalog. "She doesn’t talk to me like I’m a baby. She asks me real questions. She’s a lot like Mom, I think my mom would treat me the same way."

Something in her voice made my chest tighten. Despite all my efforts, I knew Vivian felt the absence of a mother figure in her life. No number of nannies or caregivers could fill that void.

"What about this theme?" I redirected, pointing to a space-themed party spread. "Since you said Rancy likes stars and planets."

Vivian gasped, her eyes widening. "Yes! That’s perfect! Can we have a planetarium dome? And real astronaut ice cream?"

I laughed, feeling lighter than I had in weeks. "We’ll see what we can arrange. Nothing’s too good for my princess’s special day."

She beamed at me, then her expression grew serious again. "Daddy, do you think Rancy’s mom will come to the party too?"

Before I could answer, a knock interrupted our planning session.

"Come in," I called, maintaining my relaxed posture despite instantly shifting into business mode—a habit ingrained after years of running Blackwood Enterprises.

Simon Graves, my personal assistant, stepped into the office with his customary efficiency. "Mr. Blackwood, I’ve just received a request from Elegant Realm design studio. Mrs. Lancaster would like to extend a dinner invitation to discuss potential collaboration opportunities."

At the name "Lancaster," I felt a curious tickle at the back of my mind. Something about it seemed vaguely familiar, though I couldn’t place why. "Elegant Realm? Mrs. Lancaster?"

Simon nodded, consulting his tablet. "Yes, sir. Her assistant reached out quite personally. Mrs. Lancaster expressed genuine interest in exploring partnership possibilities with Blackwood Enterprises in the American market."

I almost dismissed it as the usual networking attempt. Everyone wanted a piece of Blackwood Enterprises—that was nothing new.

"Before we move on to that," I said, lowering my voice slightly, "any updates on the other matter?"

Simon understood immediately. "About the woman you thought you saw at Vincenzo’s last week?" He hesitated. "We’ve reviewed all available security footage from the area, but couldn’t get a clear facial confirmation. It’s... highly likely it was simply someone who resembled Mrs. Blackwood, sir."

I felt the familiar pang whenever Serena was mentioned. Three years hadn’t dulled the sharp edge of regret that cut through me whenever I thought of her.

"Besides," Simon added carefully, "if it were truly Mrs. Blackwood, wouldn’t she have approached you directly? Given your history..."

I nodded curtly, not wanting to pursue that line of thought.

"Daddy!" Vivian’s excited voice broke through my brooding. "Serena is Rancy’s mommy!"

I snapped back to attention, momentarily confused by the sudden shift. "Vivian, what did you say?"

My daughter was practically bouncing in her seat, her small hands gripping my arm with surprising strength. "Please go to the dinner, Daddy! If you become friends with Rancy’s mom, then they can both come to my birthday party!"

"Rancy’s mother is named Serena?" I asked carefully, feeling an odd tightening in my chest.

"Serena Lancaster," Vivian confirmed proudly. "She’s really pretty and kind. She always smells like flowers and she talks so softly, like music."

I raised an eyebrow, struck by my daughter’s unusually poetic description. "You seem quite taken with Mrs. Lancaster as well as Rancy."

Vivian nodded emphatically. "Rancy is my best friend, Daddy. The very best in the whole world. And her mommy makes her happy all the time." She looked down briefly, then back up with those earnest eyes. "I think you’d like her too."

The unspoken implication hung in the air between us—so innocent coming from her, yet so loaded for me.

"Mrs. Lancaster seemed especially interested after learning that her daughter and yours are classmates," Simon interjected, clearly trying to provide context.

"Please, Daddy," Vivian pleaded, clasping her hands together dramatically. "Say yes to dinner. Then Rancy and her mom can definitely come to my birthday party. I promise it would be the best birthday ever if they were there."

I studied my daughter’s face, seeing a spark of hope and excitement that had been absent for too long. Whatever my reservations about business dinners with strangers, I couldn’t bring myself to extinguish that light.

"Alright, princess," I conceded, reaching out to tap her nose affectionately. "For you, I’ll have dinner with Mrs. Lancaster."

Vivian launched herself into my arms with a squeal of delight that startled even Simon. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she exclaimed, planting kisses all over my face. "You won’t regret it, Daddy. I just know it!"

As I held my daughter, I couldn’t shake the strange feeling that something significant had just been set in motion.

"Simon," I called over Vivian’s head, "tell Mrs. Lancaster’s people I accept her invitation. Find a suitable time in my schedule."

"Right away, sir," Simon nodded, already typing on his tablet.

Vivian pulled back from our embrace, her smile radiant with genuine happiness—a sight so rare that it momentarily took my breath away.

"This birthday is going to be perfect," she whispered, as if sharing a secret with herself. The certainty in her voice was startling for a child her age.

As I watched her return to the catalogs with renewed purpose, I wondered what it was about this Rancy and her mother that had so thoroughly captured my daughter’s heart. And why the name "Serena Lancaster" stirred something deep and unresolved within my own.