Chapter 13 Her Anger
Adrian’s POV
“Adrian, do you even hear yourself?”
Vivian’s voice echoed through the living room for what felt like the tenth time in one hour. Her tone was sharp, her face flushed with anger, and her eyes burned with something between frustration and disbelief.
She stood in front of me with her arms crossed, her phone still in her hand. On the screen, paused at a still frame, was Kayla…calm, confident, beautiful—during that live TV interview that had apparently set the entire house on fire.
“Vivian,” I said quietly, “I told you already. She wasn’t talking about us personally. She was referring to business. It was a professional interview.”
Vivian let out a bitter laugh. “Professional? Are you serious right now? Did you even watch yourself when they showed the clip again? You looked guilty! And she…she sounded like a woman trying to rewrite her story with her ex-husband!”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling the tension build behind my eyes. “You’re reading too much into it. She meant nothing by it. The partnership between Brooks Atelier and Ward Group is business. That’s all.”
Vivian’s eyes widened. “So you’re telling me that she just woke up one morning and decided to tell the entire world she feels positive about working with her ex-husband, and you think that’s normal?”
“I don’t know why she said it,” I said honestly. “Maybe she wanted to sound mature, professional—”
“Or maybe she wanted to remind you that she still has feelings for you,” Vivian snapped. “She literally said you’ve met recently! Don’t you think you should have told me that part?”
I exhaled slowly. “Vivian, it wasn’t even worth mentioning. The meeting was short and work-related. There was nothing to tell.”
Her lips parted in disbelief. “Nothing to tell? You met your ex-wife…the woman you divorced for me…and you didn’t think I should know about it?”
She paced the floor, muttering to herself. “You’re unbelievable, Adrian. You hide things, then expect me to trust you. What else are you not telling me? Did you two meet alone? Where did it happen? At her office? Or maybe a hotel?”
“That’s enough,” I said firmly.
She stopped pacing, turning to face me. “No, it’s not enough. You think I’m going to sit here while everyone’s talking about you two working together again? While the internet is full of headlines calling it a reunion story?”
I rubbed my jaw and sighed. “What do you want me to do?”
Vivian didn’t hesitate. “I want to go with you to that inauguration ceremony tomorrow.”
I looked at her in disbelief. “What?”
“I want to see for myself,” she said, her voice steady but cold. “If you’re being honest, then you won’t mind me coming along.”
“Vivian, that’s ridiculous,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s a professional event, not a family outing. Besides, who’s going to watch Jasper?”
Her tone softened slightly. “I already called my sister. She said she can take him for the day.”
I stared at her. “You’ve already planned this?”
“I had to,” she said simply. “Because I don’t trust what’s going on between you and that woman.”
We argued for nearly half an hour. Every point I made only seemed to fuel her determination. In the end, she won—not because I agreed, but because I was too tired to keep going.
“Fine,” I muttered, buttoning my shirt as I walked away. “You can come. But you’re not going to cause a scene, Vivian. Promise me that.”
She smiled sweetly, though her eyes were far from calm. “Of course, darling. I’ll behave.”
I didn’t believe her. Not for a second.
As I walked out of the room, a thought crossed my mind that made me pause.
Four years ago, I cheated on Kayla with Vivian. And now, here I was, married to Vivian—listening to her accuse me of cheating with the same woman I betrayed.
Life really did have a cruel sense of humor.
The next afternoon came too quickly. Vivian dressed up like she was attending a red carpet event. Her dress was a silk red that made her stand out from a mile away.
“Ready?” she asked, smiling as she adjusted her earrings.
“Let’s just get this over with,” I said, grabbing my car keys.
The ride to the city hall was quiet, though the tension between us was heavy enough to fill the car. When we arrived, the atmosphere was professional and buzzing.
The members of the Interior Design Association had already gathered, greeting one another, and taking pictures.
I scanned the hall briefly…and there she was.
Kayla.
Standing tall, radiant, and composed in a white suit that made her glow under the warm lights. She looked like the kind of woman who no longer carried the weight of what happened between us. The sight of her hit me harder than I expected.
Vivian’s hand gripped my arm tightly. “So, that’s her?”
“Yes,” I said quietly.
She scoffed under her breath. “I see the attraction hasn’t changed.”
I ignored her comment and greeted the association members. I apologized for being late, exchanging polite handshakes and short pleasantries…everyone except Kayla. She avoided my gaze completely, speaking with the governor and Maya as though I wasn’t even there.
Vivian noticed immediately. “Why isn’t she talking to you?” she whispered. “If you two are on such good professional terms, she should at least greet you.”
“Vivian,” I said quietly, “not now.”
She crossed her arms. “Oh, I’m not saying anything. Just observing.”
Her “observing” was laced with jealousy. She stood so close to me that even the photographers probably thought we were glued together. Every time Kayla moved, Vivian’s eyes followed her.
When the coordinator announced that the main inauguration would begin inside the private conference hall, I thought Vivian would stay behind like everyone else’s spouse. But when I turned, she was still walking beside me.
“Vivian,” I said lowly, “you can’t go in there.”
“Why not?” she asked, lifting her chin.
“Because it’s for registered members only,” I explained.
The security guard stepped forward. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but only members of the association can enter.”
Vivian’s expression darkened. “I’m with him.”
“I understand, ma’am,” the guard said politely, “but that’s the rule.”
She was about to argue, but I cut in. “It’s fine. I’ll be right back.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’d better be.”
I walked into the hall, already fearing what might happen if she got restless outside.
The conference room was elegant and filled with murmurs of polite conversation. The governor, the mayor, and the senior members of the association were seated at the front. I found a seat toward the side, where I could still see Kayla.
It took a few minutes before the meeting officially began. The lawyer stood and began reading the contract that would bind every member of the Interior Design Association under a single governing structure. It was a major step…regulating all construction, estate, and interior design firms within the state.
That was why the governor himself was there to legalize it.
After the legal formalities, the mayor spoke. “Before we proceed to nominations, Mr. Ward, could you remind us how you became a part of this association?”
My stomach tightened. “Of course,” I said, standing slowly. “I represent the Ward Group. Our goal has always been to partner with—”
Someone interrupted from the crowd. “But didn’t you have a fallout with the Ward Group recently?”
Murmurs spread instantly.
I saw Kayla’s head turn slightly toward me. Her face was unreadable, but her attention was sharp.
I smiled faintly, adjusting my cufflinks. “It was a minor misunderstanding. Everything’s been resolved. I’m still fully representing my family.”
The mayor nodded and motioned for the lawyer to continue. The nominees for the head of the association were announced, and when Kayla’s name was mentioned, a quiet murmur of approval followed.
By the end of the vote, she was chosen.
The applause was loud and well-deserved. I found myself clapping too, pride stirring in me despite everything that had happened between us. She walked to the front, composed and confident, to sign the official documents.
Photographers rushed forward as the governor congratulated her. She looked happy… and I actually hoped she would want to take a picture with me, but I somehow knew that was impossible.
I reluctantly stayed back, content to watch while I ached to take a photo with her. But then, to my surprise, she turned toward me.
“Mr. Ward,” she said, her voice calm but clear. “Would you join us for a picture?”
A few heads turned in my direction.
For a moment, I was shocked. Then I walked to the front, my pulse quickening with each step.
When I reached her, she offered her hand for a handshake. I shook it… her hand was so soft and it got me salivating.
“Congratulations,” I said quietly.
Her lips curved into a polite smile. “Thank you.”
We faced the cameras, ready to make a pose when a voice sliced through the noise, sharp and furious.
“Adrian!”
It was Vivian.
Her scream froze the entire room. Every camera stopped clicking. Every head turned toward the door where she stood, her eyes blazing, her anger filling the silence.