Chapter 583

A single month was all it took for Tristan Whitmore to realize how unbearable life had become without Vivian Lockwood.

Watching his ex-wife, once pampered as the jewel of the Whitmore family, now working for others with forced smiles made his stomach churn.

Tristan swallowed his pride and begged for reconciliation. Vivian agreed before he even finished his third plea.

"See? She still loves me." Tristan vowed to treat her better this time.

But then—

Vivian's gaze turned glacial, colder than the Arctic winds.

Tristan stood frozen, mouth agape but voice trapped in his throat.

She advanced with measured steps, stopping precisely six feet away.

Her sweet face bore a detached smile. "Mr. Whitmore, aren't these all your former flames? Why didn't you invite them to our wedding?"

A bitter taste flooded Tristan's mouth. He approached with desperate eyes. "I was wrong, darling. Terribly wrong. I'll change—only you from now on!"

He'd promise anything, swear any oath, if only she'd stop looking at him like he was beneath contempt.

Panic clawed at his chest.

The crowd buzzed with shocked whispers. Who could've imagined the notorious playboy Whitmore heir brought to his knees like this?

Yet Vivian remained unmoved, her heart forged from steel. With regal poise, she addressed the bridal-gown-clad women. "Thank you, ladies. My staff will ensure your safe return home."

The procession of scorned lovers finally dispersed, leaving the banquet hall in tomb-like silence.

Vivian strode past Tristan without a glance.

She addressed their guests with practiced grace. "Consider this evening's entertainment my parting gift. Mr. Whitmore and I will not be reconciling."

Tristan's fists clenched until his knuckles whitened, but he dared not interrupt.

"Our marriage was fractured from the start. I've come to accept I was never suited to be Mrs. Whitmore—nor do I wish to be."

Each word carved deeper into Tristan's chest than any blade could.

This was the freedom he'd once craved. The freedom he'd earned through countless betrayals.

He'd gotten exactly what he deserved.

When Vivian turned to leave, Tristan seized her wrist. "Where are you going? This is our wedding!"

Below the stage, Evelyn Sinclair's mocking laughter rang out conspicuously.

Beside her, Nathan Blackwood's expression darkened to match the storm clouds outside.

He'd brought Evelyn here to witness reconciliation, not this spectacular humiliation.

"Pathetic," Nathan thought, watching his friend's downfall. "He brought this upon himself."