Chapter 53 To Kill a Monkey
Viviene walked majestically into Wine Galore, a refined and exclusive wine house known for its rare collections and luxurious ambiance. The scent of aged oak and fine grapes lingered in the air, and the soft hum of classical music added to the elegance of the space. She moved gracefully, her heels clicking against the polished floor as she took in her surroundings.
Truth be told, she didn't even know who she was meeting. The message she had received was vague, no name, just a time and location. As if on cue, her phone buzzed.
"I'm at The Velvet Reserve. Ask a waiter to bring you over."
Viviene raised a brow, then turned to a nearby waiter. "Could you show me to the velvet reserve ?" she asked.
The male waiter gave a courteous nod and led her through the intimate hall, weaving between glass cabinets and velvet-lined booths. As they neared a corner draped in soft lighting, she spotted a man already seated.
He stood as she approached.
Dressed in a flawlessly tailored navy suit, he looked effortlessly sophisticated. His dark hair was tied neatly in a sleek bun, and there was something about his calm, confident demeanor that instantly commanded attention. His eyes sparkled with amusement as he gestured towards the seat across from him.
"Nice to finally meet the beautiful Viviene," he said, a slow, charming smile spreading across his face.
Viviene blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his looks. She hadn't known what to expect but she certainly hadn't expected this. Regaining her composure, she sat up straighter, smoothing the front of her dress as she held his gaze.
"Thank you," Veveine said elegantly, her voice calm and poised.
Vincent smiled softly. "My name is Vincent," he said, extending a hand toward her.
She shook it briefly, then gently pulled her hand back.
"I'm so glad you accepted my invitation on such short notice," Vincent added politely.
"Well, it was the content of your message that had me practically sprinting here," she replied with a graceful smile.
Just then, a waiter approached with a leather-bound menu in hand.
"There's no need," Vincent said before the waiter could speak. "I've already placed an order for us."
"Oh, alright then," the waiter nodded and quietly walked away the same way he came.
"So, let's get straight to business," Viviene said, wasting no time. She wasn't here for small talk she was here to get the intel Vincent promised.
Vincent chuckled lightly. "There's no need to hurry," he said in a calm, measured tone.
Just then, a female waitress approached their table with a bottle of Château Pétrus 2000 and two crystal wine glasses.
She placed it gently on the table, the label facing outward.
"This is the Château Pétrus 2000, one of our most exclusive selections," she said with a pleasant, practiced smile. "A Bordeaux wine from Pomerol rich, full-bodied, with notes of black cherry, truffle, and a hint of tobacco. It's been aged to perfection, twenty-five years now. Smooth on the palate, with a velvety finish."
She poured delicately into their crystal glasses, careful not to spill a drop.
"It pairs beautifully with red meats and dark chocolate," she added, stepping back slightly. "Would you like me to bring anything to accompany it?"
Vincent glanced briefly at Viviene, then returned a smooth smile to the waitress. "We're fine for now. Thank you."
She gave a small nod and disappeared silently, leaving behind a lingering trace of oak and elegance.
Viviene eyed the bottle with subtle interest before turning her gaze back to Vincent. "You seem like a very polished and sophisticated man," she said coolly. "You don't look like someone who would engage in petty Sinclair slander."
Vincent let out a soft laugh. "I'm not here to slander anyone," he replied, picking up and swirling the wine in his glass. "Ethan just has something that belongs to me and I want it back."
That caught Viviene's interest. She sat up straighter, her eyes narrowing slightly with curiosity.
Vincent had done his homework thoroughly. He had dug deep into Ethan Sinclair's life, looking for a single crack, any weak point he could exploit. That was when he came across the story of Ethan and Viviene, their messy, unfinished business. He read about how Viviene had flown to Rome during Ethan's honeymoon, and how she had boldly claimed their marriage was a façade. That, Vincent thought, was a move fueled by obsession... and pain.
But more importantly it was useful.
"I know Ethan and Lena's marriage is fake," Vincent said slowly, watching her reaction. "Because he took Lena from me."
Viviene's brows lifted. "Oh wow," she said, intrigued. "Was she your girlfriend?"
Vincent's expression darkened slightly, his voice lowering with emotion. "She was more than that. Much more. And I want her back."
He leaned in just a little. "If we work together, you get Ethan back... and I get my sweet, sweet Lena."
A spark lit in Viviene's eyes. The idea of having Ethan again finally, fully made her pulse quicken. The resentment she'd buried resurfaced with a quiet burn. She hadn't come here expecting this. But now, she was listening very closely.
Viviene picked up her glass, the deep red of the Château Pétrus catching the light as she swirled it once before taking a slow sip. The rich taste lingered on her tongue, but her mind was already spinning.
"I must admit..." she began, her voice cool and low, "I didn't expect this meeting to be so... refined. When someone says they have information about Ethan, it usually happens in a parking lot or through an encrypted email."
Vincent chuckled, the sound deep and smooth. "Well, I like to conduct my affairs in style. Besides..." he leaned forward slightly, "this isn't just about information. It's about alignment. And timing."
She tilted her head, studying him. "You sound like a man who's waited a long time for this."
"I have," he replied simply, his fingers lightly tapping the stem of his glass. "Patience is a luxury most people can't afford. But when something or someone means enough, you wait."
Viviene raised a brow. "And what makes you so sure I'll help you?"
Vincent's eyes gleamed with something unreadable. "Because you're here. And because we want the same thing."
She didn't respond immediately. Instead, she took another sip of the wine, letting it rest on her tongue before swallowing slowly.
"I'll admit," she said finally, "the idea of getting Ethan back... has its appeal."
Vincent smiled, but said nothing, letting the silence speak for him.
The waitress returned briefly to top off their glasses, then vanished again like a shadow.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Just the faint sound of piano music, the clink of a fork somewhere across the wine house.
"So..." she said, settling back into her seat, her tone smooth but sharp, "what's your plan?"
Vincent smiled, a slow, mischievous curl of his lips forming as he leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table.
"I thought you'd never ask." Vincent said