Chapter 120
The afternoon sunlight streamed through the bay windows as Vivian sat stiffly on the velvet chaise lounge.
"People will fight tooth and nail to defend their position, especially when they're convinced of their righteousness," Vivian remarked with a tired sigh, her fingers absently twisting the damp tissue in her hands.
The emotional outburst had drained her more than she cared to admit. Arguments always left her feeling hollowed out, like a shell washed ashore by turbulent waves.
"That's not sterile," Adrian observed sharply, plucking the crumpled tissue from her grasp with surprising gentleness. His long fingers made quick work of disposing it before reaching past her for the first aid kit on the side table.
When he knelt before her, Vivian's breath hitched. His warm hands cradled her bare foot with unexpected reverence, sending an electric jolt up her spine. She instinctively tried to pull away - her feet had always been intensely private territory.
"Hold still," Adrian commanded softly, his grip firm yet tender as he applied the cooling ointment. The contrast between his warm palms and the chilled medication made her shiver.
This was uncharted territory for both of them. Adrian had never tended to anyone like this before, and the intimacy of the act wasn't lost on him. Her skin felt like satin beneath his fingertips, her delicate arches fitting perfectly in his palms. The careful way he smoothed the cream over her burn felt almost reverential.
Vivian's cheeks burned hotter than her injured foot. All coherent thought evaporated as her pulse thundered in her ears. From this angle, she could study the sharp angle of his jaw, the way his dark lashes cast shadows across his cheekbones.
It was absurd, really. Here she was, resolved to walk away forever, yet utterly undone by the sight of Adrian Blackwood on his knees before her. The man who had built empires now played nurse with surprising competence, his entire focus devoted to her comfort.
A hysterical thought bubbled up - she could almost imagine him as some high-end escort from Mirage Lounge, paid to lavish attention on her. The fantasy was fleeting but potent enough to make her lips twitch.
Time seemed suspended until Adrian finally sat back, the angry red mark now covered in pale medicinal cream. As he worked, Dominic's earlier words had echoed relentlessly in his mind.
Looking up into her startled eyes, Adrian exhaled shakily. "I'm sorry," he murmured, the words weighted with years of regret.
Vivian froze, certain she'd misheard. Adrian Blackwood didn't apologize. Not to anyone. Not ever.
His gaze dropped to the jagged scar marring her otherwise flawless skin - a permanent reminder of the fire that had nearly claimed her. The sight made his throat tighten with remorse.
"I should have been there," he continued hoarsely, his fingers hovering just above the old wound. "That night... I'll regret it until my dying breath."
The raw sincerity in his voice shattered Vivian's carefully constructed defenses. Her breath came in shallow bursts as decades of pain and betrayal warred with this unexpected vulnerability from the man who had once been her entire world.
Outside, the golden light shifted as clouds drifted across the sun, casting the room into temporary shadow. Somewhere in the distance, a clock chimed the hour, its solemn tones marking this moment of unexpected reckoning.