No Second Chances Ex-husband (Lauren and Ethan) novel Chapter 102

CHAPTER 0102

ROMAN’S POV

I sprayed my perfume, letting the cool mist settle on my collar before carefully placing the bottle back on the table. The crisp, rich scent lingered in the air, blending with the faint trace of aftershave I had used earlier. I paused for a second, taking in my reflection. My suit was already sharp, pressed to perfection, and my cufflinks shined under the soft light. All that remained was my watch.

I opened its case with deliberate care, the click echoing in the silent room. The stainless–steel strap glinted, catching the light like it was alive. Sliding it onto my wrist, I adjusted it with practiced precision. The weight of it was familiar, grounding a small reminder of the control I needed to carry tonight. This wasn’t just another event. This was the event. Investors had traveled across cities, across oceans even, expecting to hear from me. Every second counted, every word would matter.

As I fastened the clasp, the vibration of my phone broke the stillness. I glanced at the screen. Mom.

Of course. I couldn’t ignore her.

I turned and picked it up, pressing the speaker button as I continued with the watch. “How are you doing today, Mom?” I asked, letting my tone soften slightly.

“I’m doing fine, dear boy. How are you?” Her voice, warm and steady, carried the same comfort it always had, even through the distance.

“I’m alright. Actually…” I smoothed my jacket down, checking the line of the shoulders in the mirror. “I’m getting ready to head to the event I told you about a few days ago.”

“Oh yes,” she said, the slight lilt of excitement clear in her tone. “If you’re getting ready to head out for your speech, then I’m sure you’re going to do great. But I need to tell you something, if you still have some time.”

My hands stilled on the lapel of my jacket. I frowned faintly, curiosity sparking. “I’m listening,” I replied, eyes narrowing as I studied my reflection.

“Remember what we talked about a few weeks ago? Not the event. The other thing,” she said.

Ah. I knew exactly what she was referring to. “You mean the one about you thinking of coming back into the country?”

“Yes.” Her voice lowered, more thoughtful now. “I know I said I would tell you when I was going to come back by next month, but… I made up my mind today.”

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I straightened, turning slightly toward the phone, my hand brushing through my hair as I fixed the last stubborn strand in place. “Okay. And what did you decide on?”

“Well,” she began with a light sigh, “I wanted to come back today, but since you’re having that important event, I thought it best not to interrupt. So, I’ll be coming tomorrow instead.”

Tomorrow. That was sooner than expected, but perhaps it was better this way. At least I would have the gala behind me, the weight of tonight’s expectations lifted.

“Alright,” I said with a small nod, though she couldn’t see it. “I’ll inform my secretary to send the jet to pick your

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up at the airport tomorrow.”

“That will be perfect,” she replied warmly. “Alright, I’ll leave you to finish up then. Take care of yourself, okay?”

“You too, Mom.”

The line clicked dead, and silence settled once more. I placed the phone down, the faint buzz of thoughts trailing behind her words. Tomorrow was going to bring its own storm, but tonight I had to be Roman Hale, the CEO, the face of Hale Industries.

A sharp knock at the door pulled me back to the present.

“Come in,” I called, adjusting my cufflinks once more.

The door creaked open, and my manager stepped inside. Her posture was respectful, her hands folded neatly in front of her. “Hello, sir. You look amazing.” Her head tilted downward, eyes avoiding direct contact as usual.

I gave her a steady look. “I’m guessing it’s time?”

“Yes, sir,” she said quickly.

I exhaled, turning back to pick up my suit jacket I had dropped on the chair. The fabric was cool beneath my hands as I slid it over my shoulders. Every motion felt ritualistic meant to fortify me before walking into the spotlight. With one final adjustment, I nodded at her.

She responded by opening the door wider, stepping aside as I moved forward. Together, we walked through the hallway, the low hum of distant voices growing louder as we neared the gala. My footsteps echoed against the floor, each one steady, measured.

By the time we reached the backstage area, I stopped, letting her go on ahead. This was her role: to announce me, to prepare the room for my presence. I could already hear the buzz of the crowd on the other side of the curtains, the chatter of investors mingling, the clinking of glasses, the undercurrent of anticipation.

Her voice cut sharply into the air, amplified through the speakers. “Hello, everyone. I hope you’re having a good day, I’m sure you are. And now, it’s time for the CEO himself to come in and say hello to everyone. Please welcome the CEO of Hale Industries, Roman Hale.”

The applause started instantly, a wave of clapping hands rolling through the hall.

That was my cue.

I stepped forward, climbing the short stairs to the stage, and the lights hit me. For a split second, I blinked under their brightness, but then I lifted my chin, shoulders squared. My manager extended the mic, and I took it with practiced ease. The sound of applause still rumbled, fading slowly as I raised the microphone to my lips.

“Thank you,” I began, my voice carrying firmly across the hall. My eyes scanned the crowd. The entire gala was alive, faces turned toward me with expectation, some curious, some calculating. I could pick out the familiar ones: old allies, skeptical rivals, opportunists waiting to hear what I’d offer.

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