Chapter 246

Victoria's face froze when she heard those words. Yet, she maintained her fragile, pitiful expression, her voice trembling as if on the verge of tears. "Miss Prescott, are you implying you'll continue pursuing my fiancé and remain the other woman?"

Vivian parted her lips, speaking deliberately. "Do you know why I gifted you a mirror on your birthday?"

Victoria's expression darkened.

"You still don’t understand your place," Vivian continued, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "No wonder Alexander still hasn’t married you after all these years." With that, she rose gracefully and turned to leave.

Victoria shot to her feet, her façade crumbling. "Vivian Prescott! I offered you kindness, and you spat on it! Fine! Just wait—you'll regret crossing me!"

Vivian glanced back, unfazed. Seeing Victoria’s fury only deepened her smile. "Hurry it up, then. I can’t wait." She tightened her grip on her phone.

Exactly.

She couldn’t wait.

Come at me, Victoria.

I’m ready for whatever you throw my way.

The moment Vivian left the café, Victoria stormed into an adjacent room.

"Well? Did you get it?" she snapped.

The person inside shook their phone. "Every second recorded."

Victoria exhaled, her sinister gaze narrowing.

"Hmph. Vivian Prescott, since you refuse to back down, I’ll destroy your reputation completely. You’ll suffer exactly what Evelyn did!"

Vivian headed straight to the hotel after leaving the café.

She hadn’t expected Alexander to be the one waiting for her.

More surprisingly, his gaze held none of the suspicion from before.

Perhaps Sebastian had succeeded in dissuading him.

Naturally, Vivian didn’t mention her encounter with Victoria. She focused solely on the tasks at hand.

Later, Alexander spoke up. "Miss Prescott, would you honor me with lunch? Consider it a taste test."

Vivian agreed, following him into the VIP room.

The third-floor view wasn’t towering, but the breeze rustled the branches outside the French windows. Golden leaves spiraled like butterflies, drifting past the glass in silent elegance.

Early autumn carried a crispness after summer’s heat.

Alexander poured wine for them both. Soon, a faint flush colored his cheeks, his sharp eyes turning even more mesmerizing.

"You shouldn’t overindulge, Mr. Blackwood," Vivian teased lightly. "Unless you want to ramble nonsense at me again like last time. I’d rather not hear those words repeated."

Alexander met her gaze. "What did I say that night?"

Vivian lifted her glass, pausing before answering cryptically, "You grabbed me and said, ‘Lillian, don’t go.’"

The moment the words left her lips, she caught a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.

Her pulse stuttered. She took a quick sip of wine to mask her unease.

That night, he’d called her Lillian. Even knowing he meant Victoria, a part of her had ached for it to be her. Years ago, at the beach, he’d been the one to shield her—

Alexander lowered his gaze, veiling his thoughts. "And what else?"

Vivian studied him. "Just that. Over and over—‘Lillian, don’t go.’ Who is she? I thought Victoria was the love of your life, Mr. Blackwood?"

She posed the question deliberately, then added, "Oh, and you were clutching a seashell. Not particularly valuable, yet you held it like a lifeline. Why?"