Chapter 32 OUT OF THE SHADOWS
After the Rome incident, Viviene disappeared from the internet. The hate comments and anonymous DMs hadn't stopped, and she knew better than to keep feeding the flames. Quietly, she slipped off the radar, flying back to Melbourne the moment the news broke. Her public appearances became rare, calculated she was waiting for the world to move on, for a fresher scandal to bury hers.
But beneath the silence, resentment brewed.
Lounging on the sofa of her apartment, a glass of wine in hand, her thoughts burned hotter than ever. The humiliation Ethan had put her through, the way he discarded her, made her a spectacle it gnawed at her pride like acid. She wouldn't forgive him. And she definitely wouldn't forget.
This time, when she struck, she'd make sure they all felt it deeply, painfully, with no way to escape.
Lena rose feeling more energized than the day before. She took a hot bath, letting the steam wash away the stress of yesterday. As she dressed and prepared to leave, she remembered the man she'd exchanged contact within the ghettos. Determined, she grabbed some money from her luggage and stormed out of the room, ready to win today.
As she reached the massive hallway, she heard a door click open. Ethan stepped out of his room, arms folded.
"Don't tell me you're going back there," he said sharply.
"I can't just let those paintings go," she replied, her tone defiant.
"You definitely can't retrieve them on your own," Ethan said, stepping closer. "Well... since you've dragged me into this, I'll help you."
She frowned. "How exactly did I drag you into this?"
"That doesn't matter," he said quickly, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. "I'll have my security team handle it."
She didn't look convinced.
"Lena," he continued, his tone colder now, more commanding, "if there's any chance you're getting those paintings back, it's through me. I'm Ethan Sinclair. I have the power, the reach, and the resources to get them. So sit back and let my team do what they're trained to do. I don't want you causing trouble or making a mess of things. Just let me handle it."
There was a pause. Her eyes searched his face, still unsure.
"Alright," she said quietly.
But even as she agreed, Ethan could see the fire still burning in her eyes.
Lena strolled back down to her room, convincing herself that maybe Ethan could handle it. He had the influence, the connections, and the kind of resources she could only dream of. And truthfully, she knew the man she was after wasn't someone to be taken lightly. He was dangerous. All she had to face him with was raw determination and pent-up anger.
So maybe, she thought, if she had the help of a billionaire... why not let him take the lead?
With that, she walked back into her room, trying to quiet the part of her that still wanted to do it herself. Just as she tossed her bag onto the bed, she heard the rumble of a car engine outside. Curious, she walked over to the window and peeked through the curtains. It was Ethan, pulling out of the driveway, his sleek black car disappearing down the road.
She turned back inside, flopped onto the bed, and idly scrolled through her phone, checking her socials to distract herself.
Then her screen lit up Incoming Call: Unknown Number
She picked up the call, pressing the phone to her ear.
"Hello?" she said cautiously.
There was a short pause on the other end before the voice replied, low and direct.
"It's the guy you met at Vice Street."
Lena sat upright instantly. "Oh hello, uhm-"
"If you've got the money, I can send you his current location," he cut in.
She hesitated for half a second. "Yeah... I do."
"Alright. I'll send you an account. Make the transfer, and I'll send the address."
The line went dead.
A few seconds later, a text came in bank details, plain and untraceable.
She stared at it.
Should she really do this? Should she just wait for Ethan's team like he told her to? That would be the smart thing. The safe thing. But something inside her stubborn, impatient, burning couldn't sit still. She wanted to act. She needed to.
Without thinking much longer, she made the transfer.
Then she dialed the number back.
"I've made the payment," she said quickly.
"Got it," he replied before ending the call again.
Moments later, another message came through an address. A warehouse.
Her eyes scanned the location, surprised. It wasn't far. In fact, it was just a few minutes from Ethan's estate and that told her one thing: this wasn't deep in the city's underbelly. It wasn't a dangerous zone.
That gave her just enough confidence.
Without wasting another second, she jumped up, grabbed her bag, and rushed out. She stopped by the staff quarters, asked for a spare key, and was handed one without question. Everyone assumed it was for something routine.
She got into one of the cars parked by the side of the mansion and drove out of the compound, heart racing,
Hugo burst into Ethan's office, eyes lit with excitement.
"Yes! It's finally time to get revenge for Bill and Max," he said eagerly.
Ethan didn't even look up from his desk. "Hugo, we're not getting revenge," he said flatly. "I want this handled swiftly and as cleanly as possible."
Hugo's expression dropped. "Uh you're no fun," he muttered, clearly deflated.
Ethan looked up, his tone firm but calm. "Since Lena's father owes him money, just settle the debt. Retrieve the paintings. No need for threats or violence.
"Understood, sir. I'll send one of my boys to go have a talk with him."
"That's fine," Ethan said with a nod, already turning his focus back to the file in front of him. "Just make sure it's handled quietly."
Hugo gave a quick nod, as he stormed out of Ethan's office. Vivienne raised a hand, trying to match the directions with what she saw around her. She had missed a few turns, circled the area more than once, but finally she found it.
A large, rusted warehouse stood quietly at the end of a narrow road. It looked abandoned, forgotten, the kind of place no one had any business being in. She pulled up in front of it and parked, glancing around. The area was eerily quiet, no people, no passing cars, no movement. Just the low hum of the wind and the ticking of her engine cooling.
What could he possibly be doing here? she thought, eyeing the warehouse suspiciously.
She stepped out, walked toward the metal gate, and tried to pull it open. Locked. Of course.
She knocked once, then again harder this time.
No answer.
She knocked for several minutes, frustration creeping in. Just as she turned to leave, the gate creaked open slightly. A young man, no older than his early twenties, peeked out.
The young man looked genuinely surprised to see her. His brows pulled together as he gave her a once-over, clearly not expecting someone like her at a place like this.
"Who are you? What do you want?" he asked, his expression skeptical, almost confused.
Lena met his gaze without flinching. "I'm here to see Vincent," she said firmly, her voice steady and confident.