Chapter 43
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043
ADRIAN returned home, his steps dragging as if each one carried the weight of a thousand bricks. The door creaked open and closed behind him, and the silence of the house pressed in on him like a suffocating blanket.
He moved slowly into the living room.
There she was-
Amelia.
Seated on the couch, her head leaned against the armrest, her posture weary and broken. She looked nothing like the strong, vibrant woman he had married. Now, she was a shadow of herself, her shoulders curved inward as though the world had pushed her down and she no longer had the strength to resist.
She was backing the entrance, so she didn’t see him. But she must have heard the sound of the door because she did not flinch at his presence. Still, she remained crouched down and silent.
Adrian stopped. He stood there for a long while, his eyes fixed on her frail frame. His chest rose and fell, but words refused to come. Finally, he broke the silence.
“Where is Hazel?” his voice was low, careful, uncertain.
Silence. Then-
“She is at my mom’s,” Amelia replied, her voice hoarse, lifeless, without turning to look at him.
The stillness that followed was deafening. Adrian swallowed hard, his hands tightening into fists at his side, unsure of what to say next.
“My gee! You went too far. You went too far, Vivian p>
That was Claire, her voice sharp and filled with disbelief. She had already gotten wind of what had happened, why not? Amelia had shown up at the Harlow residence earlier that day with Hazel, her face pale and her voice trembling, recounting everything to her mother. The scandal couldn’t stay hidden for long. Word had quickly reached Claire, and the moment she heard, she wasted no time. She rushed down to Vivian’s place, itching to confront her.
Vivian emerged from the kitchen, graceful as always, her silk robe tied loosely around her slim waist. She carried a glass of red wine in her hand, the liquid swirling as she took a step. Without hesitation, she placed it carefully on the side table in front of Claire.
“Thank you,” Claire muttered, though she had no intention of touching the drink.
Vivian sighed, drawing herself into the armchair across from her.
“Well… I didn’t know. I… I do not have the power to control that,” she said, folding her legs elegantly, her tone far too calm for the gravity of the situation.
Claire rolled her eyes dramatically.
“Oh, please, cut the crap! You are a woman, Vivian. You know damn well when you are fertile and when you are not p>
Vivian scoffed, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger, unbothered.
“Yes, but not always,” she said smoothly. “Sometimes we miscalculate. You know these things p>
“I know nothing, Vivian!” Claire snapped, leaning forward her eyes narrowing. “You could have taken pills. You could have done something, anything! You could have prevented this mess p>
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Vivian shook her head slowly, almost pitying Claire’s anger
“Well, but it happened. It has happened. And right now, we shouldn’t be dwelling on past happenings…” she picked up her own wine, swirled it, and took a long sip before finishing, “…but the future p>
Claire scoffed loudly, throwing her hands in the air, still ignoring the untouched glass in front of her.
“Seriously? Are you being serious right now p>
Vivian blinked, momentarily confused by the intensity in Chire’s tone.
“Hold on,” she said softly, tilting her head. “I thought this was what you wanted all along? Why the sudden change in tune p>
Claire let out a bitter laugh.
“Oh, please. This wasn’t what I wanted. Not even close. All wanted was to put him right where he should be, to keep him… tied, distracted. To be something, someone. A vessel he should always run to when he gets tired of Amelia. That was all. Not to get pregnant for him. What? Do you want to be a second wife?” Her rhetorical question hung in the air like smoke, sharp and suffocating.
Vivian, however, did not flinch. She placed her wine glass back on the table with grace and leaned back, her chin slightly raised. Her lips curled into a subtle smile.
“Well, that was your motive,” she said coolly. “I had mine too. The way you had yours p>
Claire’s brows furrowed, her heart thudding.
“Meaning?” she asked cautiously, though a part of her already dreaded the answer.
Vivian’s smile widened, her eyes glittering with a dangerous certainty.
“Meaning… I love Adrian. And I know he loves me too, so much. And so, I would like to move things further with him. No girl ever wants to remain at the mistress level.” Her voice hardened, her tone dripping with determination. “I want to be wifed. I want to be his wife p>
Claire sat back in disbelief, her mouth falling open slightly
“What p>
The room went cold.
Vivian crossed her arms, smug in her bold confession. The silence stretched between them, filled only with the soft ticking of the clock on the wall and the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. Claire stared at her friend, or perhaps former friend, feeling the sting of betrayal cut deeper than she expected.
D
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Olivia Harris
Olivia Harris is an emerging author celebrated for her captivating romantic and steamy novels. With a talent for crafting deep emotional connections and fiery chemistry between her characters, Olivia’s stories offer readers an escape into worlds filled with passion, intrigue, and heart-stopping drama.