Chapter 35 The unwanted guest II
Vivienne's POV
Three hours passed. Three whole hours.
I kept myself busy in my room, scrolling through job listings, updating my resume, anything to keep my mind off the fact that Margot was sitting downstairs in Raphael's living room.
Every now and then, I'd hear footsteps in the hallway and my heart would jump, thinking maybe she'd finally given up and left.
But she hadn't.
The maid came up twice more to check on me, bringing me tea and asking if I needed anything. I could tell she felt awkward about the whole situation. This wasn't part of her normal duties, having to deal with an uninvited guest who refused to leave.
"She's still there," the maid said the second time, not even needing to say who she was talking about. "She asked if you were feeling well, if maybe you were sick or something."
I almost laughed at that. Margot pretends to care about my wellbeing. That was rich.
"Tell her I'm perfectly fine," I said. "Just busy."
The maid nodded and left again.
I tried to focus on the job application I was filling out, but my concentration was completely shot. My mind kept wandering back to Margot sitting downstairs. What did she want? Why was she here? And why was she so determined to wait for me or Raphael?
I thought she wanted me to get married, why is she here? Or does she think I don't deserve better?
I had a pretty good idea, actually. The news about Claudine throwing me out had spread fast. Too fast. It was probably all over social media by now, all over the gossip sites and blogs that loved to talk about wealthy families and their drama.
Margot had probably seen it and decided this was her chance to swoop in and see if it's true, if I've been living here.
My phone buzzed. A text from Raphael.
"Heard you have a visitor. Want me to come home early?"
I stared at the message for a long moment. Part of me wanted to say yes, to let him deal with Margot because I was just too tired. But another part of me, the part that was sick of being pushed around, said no. This was my problem to handle.
"No need," I typed back. "I've got it under control."
That was a lie, of course. I didn't have anything under control. But I wasn't about to admit that.
Another hour went by. Four hours total now. I was actually impressed by Margot's stubbornness. Most people would have given up by now, would have realized they weren't going to get what they wanted and just left.
But not Margot. She was nothing if not persistent.
Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. The guilt was starting to eat at me, not guilt about Margot, but guilt about the staff having to deal with her. The maid kept coming up to check on me. The chef had apparently made her lunch. This was getting ridiculous.
I stood up from my desk, took a deep breath, and headed for the door.
Time to face her.
The walk down the stairs felt longer than it should have. Each step felt heavy, like my feet didn't want to go where my brain was telling them to. I could hear voices from the living room, Margot talking to someone, probably one of the staff.
When I reached the living room doorway, I stopped and just looked at her.
She was sitting on the couch like she owned the place, legs crossed, scrolling through her phone. There was an empty plate on the coffee table in front of her and a half-finished glass of juice. She looked completely comfortable, like she'd been invited and was just waiting for a friend to come down and chat.
"Ivy!" she said when she saw me, her face lighting up with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She stood up quickly, setting her phone aside. "There you are! I thought you were never going to come down to see me.”
I stayed where I was, not moving into the sitting room keeping my distance.
"What do you want, Margot?"
Her smile faltered just a little bit at my tone. She clearly wasn't expecting me to be so cold, so direct.
"I wanted to see if it's true what the news said," she said, her voice dripping with fake concern. "I heard what happened with Claudine. That must have been so awful for you."
"I know, it's the reason why you're here," I said flatly.
She took a step closer to me. "I mean, being thrown out like that, in front of everyone. It must have been humiliating."
And there it was. The real reason she was here. Not to comfort me or help me, but to gloat. To see me at my lowest and feel superior about it.
"Like I said, I'm fine," I repeated, my voice harder now. "Was there anything else?"
She looked taken aback by my attitude.
“I thought you wanted me gone, so you could claim whatever inheritance my mother left for me, so why do you care that I was being humiliated?”
There it was, the smug look that she always has on her face.
“I only came to know and see how Rapheal's house looks. You can stay here and be humiliated for all I care!”
I wrapped my hands around my chest, my face devoid of any emotion.
“You’ve never cared and trust me to say I don't even want you to be. I'm out of your hair, you can make do with whatever inheritance that was kept for me,” I said.
She grabbed her purse, ready to leave.
“But I want you to know something,” I started, and she stopped in her tracks and turned towards me.
“That whenever I'm ready for those properties, you should be ready to hand over every one of them to me!”
She left without a word.