Chapter 100

Natasha's lips curled in disdain as she studied the photo. That ridiculous silver hair screamed desperate attention-seeking—all flash with no substance. Whatever wealth or influence this stranger possessed, he could never measure up to Adrian Blackwood's commanding presence.

Richard's brow furrowed. "Vivian? With another man? That makes no sense. She's utterly devoted to Adrian. They're still legally married. Why would she jeopardize everything?"

Though Richard held little affection for his daughter, he couldn't deny her fierce loyalty—a trait inherited from her late mother. When Vivian loved, she loved with terrifying permanence.

But Natasha's eyes glittered with malicious intent. "Maybe she's not cheating, but their marriage is clearly crumbling. Men like that don't miss opportunities. If someone influential sets his sights on her..." She let the implication hang in the air. "The Blackwoods would never tolerate such a scandal."

Her smile turned predatory. Divorce would destroy Vivian while paving Natasha's path to becoming Mrs. Blackwood.

Richard seemed oblivious to her scheming tone. He waved a dismissive hand. "Drop it, Natasha. Whatever mess she's in doesn't concern us. Even if she remains married to Adrian, there's nothing left for us to gain."

Natasha wasn't ready to concede. A cunning idea took shape behind her sharp gaze. "Father, remember Maxwell Sterling?"

Richard gave a curt nod. "What about him?"

Her smirk widened with quiet triumph. "He's still obsessed with Vivian. We could use that to our advantage."

Maxwell Sterling, sole heir to the Sterling fortune, had once been Richard's chosen match for Vivian. Even after her marriage to Adrian, Maxwell's obsession had festered—a toxic blend of unrequited passion and bitter envy.

If Vivian divorced, she'd lose Adrian's formidable protection. Natasha had learned this during a private gathering where a drunken Maxwell had bared his soul.

"Think about it," Natasha pressed, her voice honeyed with persuasion. "If we steer him toward Vivian, we could regain the Sterlings' favor. Those old promises they made? Still valid. And right now, our family desperately needs their connections."

Richard exhaled heavily, skepticism darkening his features. "Vivian would never agree. She rejected Maxwell without hesitation—that's how she ended up with Adrian. Last time I mentioned the Sterlings, she blocked my number. Besides, no man would dare approach Adrian Blackwood's wife."

It would be social suicide. Vivian's fiery rejection still stung—a humiliation Richard had no desire to repeat.

But Natasha remained undeterred. "Everyone has a weakness, Father. Find it, and even the strongest will crumble." Her words hung like a poised dagger until an icy voice interrupted.

A woman draped in couture elegance stepped forward, her wintery gaze sharp with calculation.

Daphne Fairchild, Richard's second wife, had emerged from her boutique shopping spree. A sardonic smile played on her lips as she joined the conversation. "If Maxwell Sterling wants to taste what belongs to Adrian Blackwood, why should we care? In fact..." Her eyes gleamed. "It might solve all our problems."

Several days later, just as dawn painted the sky, persistent knocking tore Vivian from sleep.