Chapter 163

Her unguarded fragility lingered in the charged space between them.

Adrian studied Vivian with newfound clarity, as if seeing past her carefully constructed facade for the first time. The impenetrable walls around his heart trembled slightly. The man who prided himself on emotional detachment, who found vulnerability distasteful, felt an unfamiliar warmth spreading through his chest.

His grip slackened gradually. His hand moved awkwardly to pat her shoulder, the gesture reminiscent of comforting a frightened kitten. "Keep pursuing your acting career. I won't stand in your way."

Vivian seized the opportunity, stepping back with deliberate finality. "I don't want to be Mrs. Blackwood. I just want to be Vivian Hartley."

Adrian's expression clouded, thunder gathering in his stormy gaze. For someone who commanded boardrooms effortlessly, Vivian remained his greatest challenge. Closing billion-dollar deals felt simpler than navigating this emotional minefield.

Divorce had crossed his mind before. As Adrian Blackwood, eligible women flocked to him. But marriage represented more than fleeting passion - it was a sacred vow, a commitment he refused to break unlike his irresponsible father. The scars his sister bore from their father's abandonment had forged his unshakable resolve.

Composing himself, he rose and methodically dressed, buttoning his shirt with precise movements before turning toward the exit.

"Wait." Vivian's voice halted his retreat.

She approached, extending a small jar. "Have Ethan apply this later." Her tone carried unmistakable dismissal - a clear boundary set between them.

Adrian accepted the ointment wordlessly, his jaw tightening. He departed without another glance.

As Vivian moved to shut the door, movement flickered at the edge of her vision. She peered into the hallway, finding only empty silence. The shadow had passed Sebastian Hartwell's room and two other actors' doors. Probably just someone getting air, she reasoned.

The incident barely registered as she closed the door, returning to her temporary sanctuary.

Golden morning light spilled across the horizon when Vivian awoke. Dressing quickly in a flowing dress that complemented her loose waves, she headed to set. The sunrise painted her in ethereal light as she descended the grand staircase.

Near the entrance, Ethan paced anxiously, his eyes darting between his watch and the doorway. Spotting Vivian, relief washed over his features as he hurried forward with a carefully wrapped parcel.

"Mrs. Blackwood," he began breathlessly, presenting the package. "Mr. Blackwood sent fresh ointment. And breakfast - prepared specially for you."

Vivian let the package hover between them. "Ethan, I'd rather you didn't call me that anymore." Her tone held gentle firmness.

"Mrs. Blackwood, there's no need for concern," Ethan rushed to explain. "I checked thoroughly - no crew members nearby to overhear."

The morning breeze carried the scent of blooming jasmine as Vivian hesitated, the weight of unspoken decisions pressing between them. Somewhere beyond the villa gates, cameras waited to capture her next performance - both onscreen and off.