Chapter 18

The wait was slowly driving her crazy. After she hung up the phone, she had to go back in front of the gate and wait for something to happen. After a couple of minutes, a car pulled up by them. By this time there was a large group of people watching from the other side of the road, and, of course, the paparazzi were taking more than enough pictures to fuel the internet for weeks.

Out of the car came Dylan Carter, looking frantic, sweat glistening on his neck.

"Vivienne is inside. I called her, and she only told me she was home. She didn’t seem to know what was going on out here," he told the group.

"We even used the loudspeaker to try and get someone out, but there was nothing. Are you sure?" the female officer asked.

"I am," Dylan walked forward and stopped by the gate. A smaller gate next to the large one had a keypad; he punched in the numbers, and it unlocked.

Immediately, the officers rushed forward toward the house. Marianne Blake decided it was best to just watch from where she was. She did not need Vivienne blowing up and her being in the blast radius.

"Ms. Blake,"

Marianne turned to look at Dylan, who had an expression of guilt, his gaze cast downward as if he were the one who had done something wrong.

"Dylan, I don’t think you’re the one I need an apology from. So why are you looking like that? You are not her parent, nor responsible for everything she does."

"I know… I just can’t help but feel this is my fault."

"Because you’re the one who wanted her to have private therapy. Dylan, it is no one’s fault but Vivienne’s. Now I think it’s best if you go open the door for her because I don’t think she will."

Dylan didn’t say anything and went through the gate, down the path to the door. The officers knocked, but there was no response. Marianne could only imagine what her poor notebook was going through. Vivienne must know she had been caught, so she must be trying to find and absorb the information as fast as possible.

"I just wish they would drag her out by her hair," May commented.

Marianne looked back at the paparazzi. The two other officers kept them back. "It would definitely give the internet fuel if that happened."

"It must be sad to be painted as the villain most of your career," Emily sighed.

"Then don’t do villainous things," May said as if it were obvious.

"Many people can’t help themselves. It isn’t their fault most of the time—it comes from childhood. Vivienne is more or less an open book. I’ve seen this behavior before, but there’s so much more I want to learn about her to help. I just wish she would let me."

As she said that, Vivienne appeared as the front door opened. She looked genuinely surprised to see the police and gave Dylan a confused look. Marianne could not hear what they were saying, but Dylan looked angry and barged past Vivienne. Their eyes met, and then Vivienne chased after Dylan.

The police didn’t have a warrant to search the house, so it was up to Dylan to find the book. If Vivienne had opened the door in the first place, Marianne would have been the one inside. She was not violent at all, but she would have been if Vivienne had tried to stop her.

She could hear shouting as they disappeared from view. Some of it was probably Dylan’s, some Vivienne’s.

The officers waited outside. By this time, the paparazzi were restless, shouting questions. Marianne refused to acknowledge them; she didn’t want to create a bigger mess by explaining why she was there.

"It must be exhausting to deal with this constantly," Emily said.

"Yeah. There are good times and bad times—way more bad than good," Marianne said.

After a few minutes, the couple reappeared. Vivienne had stopped shouting, and Dylan was holding the notepad. Upon seeing it, Marianne rushed to the gate, too focused on the notepad to take in the grandeur of the property.

The police stepped aside as Marianne snatched the book from Dylan’s hands. She quickly opened it, flipping through the pages. Because it was a notepad, pages could have been ripped out. Marianne checked her more recent notes, which included notes on Dylan. Everything seemed intact.

"I didn’t even read it," Vivienne said, as if that helped her case.

Marianne shot a sharp glare at her. Vivienne looked away, pretending she didn’t exist.

"Vivienne Cross, you are under arrest for the theft of property belonging to Marianne Blake. You have the right to remain silent as anything you say can be used against you in a court of law." The officer pulled out handcuffs.

"Wh-what?!" Vivienne shrieked. "I never—I just—Dylan!"

"Don’t you dare say my name. Stealing? Are you serious?" he gave her a disgusted look and stepped aside.

"I just wanted to see what you said, that’s all! I never looked at the other people’s ones!"

"You still stole it," he said.

Vivienne struggled against the officer’s grip. "This is madness! You shouldn’t have to arrest me! I didn’t do anything!"

Marianne bit her tongue, resisting the urge to say something that could damage her image. The officer dragged Vivienne outside. Marianne picked up the pace to follow.

The paparazzi grew louder, shouting over camera flashes. Another officer had to help control the crowd.

"I just… I wanted to know what you thought of me, okay?! Is that so bad?!" Vivienne tried to reason with Dylan, but he ignored her.

Marianne saw the pain in his eyes and felt her heart squeeze. Was Vivienne trying to make excuses or push the blame onto Dylan, making him feel guilty?

"Do something! You’re my fiancé! Help me!"

Dylan shook his head, and Vivienne came to her own conclusion. Marianne marveled at how she could shriek and shout without tiring.

"Are you saying you aren’t?! Dylan?! How could you?! I already told you what would happen if you leave me. Don’t you even think about it!" Her voice became low and threatening.

Did she plan to hurt him if he ever left her? Vivienne was unhinged, but Marianne didn’t think she’d go that far. At times like these, Vivienne forgot she was famous and supposed to uphold an image. Marianne wondered why anyone still supported her.

"Dammit, I never said that! Can’t you just calm down?"

Vivienne was almost to the car. The officer, fed up, with her nonsense simply began dragging her in the midst of her tantrum.