Chapter 83

Vivienne had barely settled onto the sofa in Xavier’s neat living room when he dropped a bombshell.

“So, I met someone,” Xavier said, placing his suitcase on the armrest with a soft thud. His shoulders sagged with relief, but his eyes gleamed with excitement as he sank into the armchair opposite her.

Vivienne blinked in surprise. For a second, she wondered if she’d misheard him. Then her lips curled into a wide smile, her eyes twinkling. “Really? That’s great news! Don’t keep me guessing—does she also work at the hospital?”

“Yes,” Xavier said, leaning back comfortably. His tone softened, his expression boyish in a way she hadn’t seen in years. “She’s a dental nurse. Viv, she’s so pretty. Tiny, delicate… like this little bean you just want to protect. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s been only two days since I met her, and already I can’t stop thinking about her.” His voice dropped into a whisper. “Isn’t that strange? For ten years I’ve felt nothing, and suddenly it feels like my heart is alive again.”

Vivienne’s chest warmed at his words. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Strange? Not at all. That’s sweet, Xavier. I told you before—your special person would show up at the right time. And look at you now. You’re smitten already. Honestly, it’s adorable.”

He chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. It feels good. I’m even planning to take her to that Michelin star restaurant downtown. At first I thought seafood would be perfect, but she told me she’s allergic. So I changed my plans.”

Vivienne clasped her hands together, her smile widening. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you? What’s her name?”

“Lana,” Xavier said, his voice almost reverent as he spoke it. “She’s twenty-five. Still lives with her mom. She has this tiny, quirky voice—it makes you want to just sit and listen to her ramble about anything. Viv, she’s breathtaking.”

Vivienne grinned so hard her cheeks hurt. The joy in his eyes was infectious. For years, she’d only seen him weighed down by silence, by pain and memories of loss. Seeing him like this—bright, hopeful, alive—felt surreal. “You are so whipped,” she teased with a light laugh. “This side of you is fascinating.”

Xavier huffed, but he was smiling. He peeled off his coat and tossed it carelessly onto the sofa. “Alright, enough about me. The twins should be home from school soon, right? I don’t want to overstay and keep you. Let me grab the wine I promised Magnus. I didn’t forget.”

Vivienne nodded approvingly. “That would be perfect.”

After his last visit, Magnus had developed an obsession with Xavier’s homemade wine. Tart yet fruity, unique yet addictive—he wouldn’t stop talking about it. Vivienne had teased him that he sounded like a critic writing a five-star review, but deep down she was touched by Xavier’s thoughtfulness in making more.

As he stepped out of the room, Vivienne wandered toward the gallery of picture frames lining the wall. Her eyes scanned each one with quiet curiosity. A golden retriever puppy with ears too big for its head. Five Siamese kittens caught mid-hiss at the camera. She chuckled softly at the cuteness of them all.

Then something different caught her eye.

It wasn’t a photo. It was a painting. An oil portrait of a little blonde-haired girl with clear blue eyes. She sat cross-legged in the grass, her tiny hands reaching toward a blue butterfly hovering nearby. The innocence in her painted expression tugged at Vivienne’s chest.

Her brows knit together. She stepped closer, fingers brushing the glass of the frame. “Who is this little girl?” she murmured under her breath.

Just then, Xavier reappeared, his arms straining slightly as he carried a wooden crate. He froze mid-step when he saw where she was looking. His cheerful glow dimmed, replaced by a heaviness that weighed down the room.

“Yes,” he said quietly, setting the crate on the table with care. “I know her. Her name was Freya. She was one of my first patients.” His voice cracked at the memory. “She was five years old when she was in a car accident. Her parents… and her unborn brother… they died instantly. She survived, but only for a few months. Then she was declared brain-dead.”

Vivienne’s throat tightened, sympathy flooding her. “Oh,” she whispered, her heart breaking for a child she’d never even met.

Xavier’s hazel eyes darkened. “She died three months before her sixth birthday. I was there, Viv. She held my hand when she took her last breath. I couldn’t move on for years. I thought about quitting medicine so many times. But then I decided to keep going—for her. I had this painting commissioned to honor her memory. It’s the only way I knew how to make peace.”

Tears pricked Vivienne’s eyes. Her voice trembled as she said, “That’s beautiful. I’m sure she’s looking down, proud of you for not giving up.”

“I hope so,” he whispered back. Then, shaking off the shadow, he reached into the crate and pulled out a small brown envelope. “Here. I wrote down the recipe too—just in case Magnus ever wants to try making the wine himself.”

Vivienne took it with a soft smile. “You’re a gem, Xavier.”

He gave a faint shrug, then brightened. “Would you like some wine before you go? I opened an extra bottle for myself, but honestly, drinking alone feels miserable.”

Vivienne hesitated for only a second before grinning. “Of course. I would never say no to your wine.”

“Perfect,” he said, his tone light once more.

He left briefly, returning with two tall goblets and a corkscrew. The soft pop of the cork echoed, and soon the rich aroma of wine filled the air as he poured generously into her glass.

“Here you go,” Xavier said, handing it to her.

“Thanks, X,” Vivienne murmured, lifting it. She inhaled deeply, sighing at the fruity, intoxicating scent before taking a slow sip.

It was divine. Smooth, rich, addictive.

She set the goblet down, but something in her body urged her to grab it again. Without thinking, she lifted it to her lips and drained it in one large gulp. The taste lingered, sweet and dark, coating her throat.

“This is incredible,” she said breathlessly. “How do you even—”

Her words broke off.

A wave of dizziness crashed over her. It hit so suddenly, so violently, her vision blurred and the room tilted. Her arms turned heavy as stone. Her lips parted to call his name, but no sound escaped. It was as though invisible tape had sealed her mouth shut.

Panic clawed at her. She pushed herself up from the sofa, but her legs buckled beneath her like lead. Fear surged as she reached out, tapping Xavier’s back desperately, hoping for help.

But when he turned to her, there was no alarm in his face.

Only a smile.

A slow, sardonic smile that sent ice flooding her veins.

Her heart stopped cold.

“Relax, my love,” Xavier whispered, gently but firmly pressing her back onto the cushions. His fingers stroked her cheek with terrifying tenderness. “Let me take care of you.”

No. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real. Vivienne’s mind screamed, but her body betrayed her, limp and useless.

Xavier’s hazel eyes gleamed with something darker than she had ever seen in him—lust, hunger, obsession. “I’ve wanted you since I was eighteen,” he confessed, his fingers clumsy as they fumbled at her buttons. “I waited. I persevered. And now? Nothing stands in my way. Finally, I get what I’ve always wanted.”

Vivienne’s body screamed to fight back, but her strength was gone. The edges of her world blurred, shadows pulling her under. Her ears buzzed, but his voice cut through it, sharp and vile.

“I can’t wait to have you, Viv,” Xavier hissed, his lips curling. “This is going to be so good.”

And then everything went black.