Chapter 439

"Enough!" Alexander's voice thundered through the dining room, sharp as shattered glass.

Isabella immediately clamped her mouth shut, her breath hitching in fear. The glacial fury in Alexander's piercing gaze made her blood run cold.

He strode past Isabella and his mother without a second glance, his focus solely on Vivian. Noticing her tightened jaw, he softened his tone. "Had enough? Let's leave this wretched place."

Vivian rose gracefully, her emerald eyes sweeping over the two women like a queen surveying peasants. "How could anyone eat with such vile company?"

Margaret Blackwood's face purpled with rage. "Alexander! Did you hear how she spoke to me?"

Vivian's lips curled into a mocking smile. "And what will you do about it? Bully me like you did Evelyn?"

Margaret sputtered, "Vivian Prescott, what nonsense are you spouting? Defending that wretched girl? She deserved everything! If Evelyn hadn't—"

"I said ENOUGH!" Alexander's fist slammed onto the table, making the china rattle. His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Evelyn was proven to be Sophia Montgomery's daughter. Would you dare say these things to Eleanor and William?"

Margaret's mouth snapped shut. The revelation about Evelyn's true parentage still burned like acid in her throat. That gutter rat turning out to be a Montgomery heiress? Unbearable.

The silence stretched taut until Alexander offered Vivian his arm. "Let's go."

Vivian unclenched her fists, shooting Margaret one last scathing look that promised retribution.

As they turned to leave, Margaret muttered under her breath, "Montgomery or not, that bitch disfigured Ethan! And she definitely had something to do with Sophia's death!"

Vivian froze. Slowly, she turned, her gaze sharper than Damascus steel. "Accusing without proof? Typical. You'd grovel if the truth exonerated Evelyn, but we both know you only kick those already down."

Margaret's face twisted, but she remained silent under Alexander's warning glare.

The car ride home was suffocatingly quiet.

Vivian stared out at the blurring city lights, her reflection fractured in the rain-streaked window. She remembered this road—the night Alexander had nearly choked her to death defending Victoria. How she'd begged for just a shred of trust before being thrown into the storm.

That night, the rain had felt like needles. The pain like fire.

If not for Sebastian...

Her fingers traced the scar hidden beneath her silk blouse.

How poetic. The only memories you've given me are written in blood.