Chapter 66 – The Trouble in Silk
Several maids nearby paused in their steps, their heads lowering quickly to avoid her glare. The guards exchanged nervous glances but said nothing.
Callista drew a slow breath. She had dealt with Vivian before–her temper and her entitlement. Edward’s instructions had been clear. “I’m sorry, Miss Vivian, but Sir Edward was very specific about it. You’ll be staying in the guest wing.”
Vivian’s lips parted slightly in disbelief. “The guest wing?” she said, as if the words themselves insulted her. “Do you even know who you’re talking to?”
“I do,” Callista replied calmly. “And I’m simply following Sir Edward’s orders.”
Vivian’s eyes flashed with anger. “This is ridiculous. Where is he?”
“He’s upstairs,” Callista said. “But I suggest you rest first, ma’am. He’s busy at the moment.”
Vivian gave a short, cold laugh. “Busy,” she repeated mockingly. “Too busy for me, apparently.”
She turned sharply, her heels striking the floor louder now as she started toward the staircase. But Callista stepped subtly in her path–not blocking her fully, but enough to make her pause.
“Miss Vivian,” she said quietly. “Please. Sir Edward will come to you when he’s ready.”
Vivian stared at her for a long moment. The tension in the air was thick enough to feel. Then she smiled again, but it was the kind of smile that carried no warmth–only challenge.
“Fine,” she said smoothly. “If Edward wants to play this little game, I’ll play along. For now.”
She turned and signaled to the guards. “Take my luggage to this… guest room she’s talking about.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
“Yes, ma’am,” one of the guards said quickly, lifting her suitcases.
As she followed them down the hallway, Vivian’s eyes flicked around the mansion. The maids who passed her avoided her gaze, their heads bowed. She could feel the shift in the air–the quiet murmurs, the hesitation. Something had changed here, and she didn’t like it.
When they reached the guest wing, the door was opened for her and she stepped inside.
Vivian stood still for a long time, her hand resting on her hip. “Unbelievable,” she muttered under her breath.
Her assistant, who had followed her in, asked carefully, “Would you like me to unpack your things, Miss Vivian?”
“No,” she said sharply. “Just leave them. I’ll decide what to do later.”
She walked toward the mirror near the bed and stared at her reflection. Her makeup was perfect, her hair flawless. She looked like power and beauty combined. And yet… she felt a spark of unease in her chest.
Edward sat alone in his room, staring out of the same window. He could see the car now empty, the courtyard quiet once more. He exhaled slowly. The storm had arrived, just as he expected.
And somewhere in the guest wing, the first ripple of trouble was already forming.
The night fell softly over the mansion, washing the walls in a quiet golden hue from the dim lights that lined the hallway. Everything seemed calm on the outside, but Edward could feel the tension curling around him like smoke. He had been expecting this visit all day. Vivian was never one to delay drama.
He sat in his room by the large window, a book open in his hands, though he hadn’t turned a page in the last twenty minutes. His mind wasn’t in the content of the book–it was preparing for the storm he knew would soon come knocking on his door.
And right on cue, the soft click of steps echoed down the corridor.
Edward’s grip on the armrest tightened slightly. He didn’t need to look to know who it was. Vivian always made an entrance–her presence alone demanded attention.
A moment later, his door opened slowly.
Vivian stepped in with a smile that could have melted glass.
“Eddie,” she said softly, her voice smooth like honey poured over silk. “You didn’t come down for dinner. I thought I’d come to keep you company.”
Edward turned his wheelchair slightly, his expression calm but unreadable. “Vivian.”
She closed the door behind her and walked toward him, every step deliberate. She wore a deep crimson nightgown, the kind designed to capture eyes and silence words.
The silk fabric clung to her curves as if it were made for her alone. The lace trim hugged her shoulders, trailing down in delicate patterns that left very little to imagination. Her perfume filled the room–an intoxicating mix of rose and musk that brought back memories he didn’t want.
Her long dark hair cascaded down her back, and her painted lips curved into a knowing smile. “Do I surprise you?” she asked, tilting her head.
Edward’s jaw tensed. “No. I knew you’d come.”
Vivian’s smile deepened. “Then why do you look so nervous, love?” she teased, moving closer until she stood directly before him.
Edward looked up at her, his gaze steady. “Vivian, we need to talk.”
She brushed off his tone with a laugh, low and sweet. “Later. Let’s not start with that tonight.” Before he could respond, she slid herself gently onto his lap, her arms curling around his neck. The satin of her gown brushed against his shirt, cool against warm. “I missed you, Eddie.”
Edward’s hands instantly went to her waist–not to pull her closer, but to hold her still. “Vivian,” he said, voice firm but low, “get up.”
She ignored him, tracing a finger along his jaw. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve felt your heartbeat this close? Since I’ve heard your voice in person? Oh, Eddie…” Her tone dripped with affection, the kind that once made him weak. But now it only left him uneasy.
“You haven’t called me in months,” Edward reminded her, his tone controlled but sharp around the edges. “You didn’t visit once after the accident. Not once.”
Vivian frowned, her lower lip pouting slightly. “Eddie, you know how busy I’ve been. The fashion shows, the photoshoots, the travels–it’s all been too much. But I thought about you every single day.”
Edward’s eyes darkened. “You thought about me, but you never even called.”
Vivian’s expression softened into practiced sadness. “Don’t be like that, darling. I was scared.” She leaned in, her perfume stronger now, almost dizzying. “I didn’t know how to face you after what happened. I didn’t want you to see me pitying you. I didn’t want you to think I loved you less because of the chair.”