Chapter 164

The morning sun cast long shadows across the cobblestone path as Vivian adjusted her sunglasses.

"It's not about being overheard," she interrupted, her voice dropping to a hushed whisper. A determined glint flashed in her hazel eyes as she tucked a stray chestnut lock behind her ear. "I've already given Adrian the divorce papers. The title of Mrs. Blackwood doesn't suit me anymore."

Ethan stood frozen for a heartbeat, the weight of her words settling between them. He lifted the carefully wrapped package again. "Ms. Hartley, my apologies. Though Mr. Blackwood remains concerned for your wellbeing." His fingers tightened around the ribbon. "He specifically included those almond croissants from that patisserie you love, thinking you might need them during filming breaks."

Vivian accepted the package with a polite nod, her expression carefully neutral. "Where's Adrian now?"

"We're scheduled to return to Crestwood this afternoon," Ethan replied smoothly.

"Mr. Blackwood left at dawn to visit the chapel in Emberglow County again."

Every trip to this quaint countryside found Adrian drawn to that ancient stone chapel. Vivian knew better than anyone that her soon-to-be-ex-husband didn't believe in divine intervention - the man worshipped only his own relentless willpower.

The memory surfaced unexpectedly - their midnight barbecue during that summer festival years ago, sticky fingers and shared laughter under paper lanterns. She hesitated before asking, "Has Adrian ever brought Serena...or anyone else here before?" The name caught in her throat like a fishbone.

Though Vivian had rephrased her question, Ethan understood perfectly. "No, Mr. Blackwood has never visited Emberglow County with Ms. Whitmore." He added pointedly, "She prefers the vibrancy of metropolitan life."

The implication was clear - Serena Whitmore would never deign to visit such provincial charm. If not with his first love, then Adrian must have come here as a boy, perhaps with family or school friends.

"Thank you. I should get going," Vivian said abruptly, already turning away.

Ethan called after her, "Mr. Blackwood has handled your legal matter thoroughly. Those men won't see daylight for at least a decade, so you needn't worry."

"Please convey my gratitude to your boss," Vivian tossed over her shoulder, quickening her pace toward the waiting van.

As Ethan watched her retreating figure, he pulled out his phone and typed: "Package delivered to Mrs. Blackwood. She seemed quite concerned about your whereabouts." A pause, then he added: "She's deeply appreciative of your efforts."

Adrian's reply came unusually fast - a single "Noted."

Ethan exhaled sharply, marveling at how strategic phrasing could work miracles.

The production team's vehicle idled by the inn's entrance. Spotting her colleagues, Vivian hurried forward. "Sorry for the delay!"

Just as she reached for the door handle, an icy finger traced down her spine. The sensation of being watched made her whirl around, heart hammering against her ribs. But the sun-dappled lane stood empty, not even a stray cat disturbing the morning stillness.