Chapter 168

Several of the younger women in the room exchanged glances, their lips twitching with suppressed amusement. Only Serena's icy presence kept them from outright applauding. Ethan Caldwell, who had witnessed Vivian Hartley's verbal duels with Adrian Blackwood countless times, maintained his professional composure. Yet even he couldn't deny the masterful way Vivian had reclaimed control of the situation.

Serena's perfect smile cracked, her manicured fingers digging into the fabric of the designer gown. Vivian's razor-sharp retort had caught her off guard—a rare occurrence for the socialite. Vivian continued with deliberate precision, "If you still harbor ambitions for that title, I suggest you steer clear of my affairs."

Her gaze flickered over Serena's dress, her voice dropping to a dangerous murmur. "As for that overpriced fabric you're clutching? I could purchase ten without Adrian's help. Spending millions to fuel your petty jealousy seems... beneath you. And him." With that, she turned on her heel toward Ethan. "We're leaving for Blackwood Manor."

"Frankly, I've had my fill of this circus." Ethan barely suppressed his smirk as he straightened his tie. "As you wish, Mrs. Blackwood," he replied, matching her brisk stride. Over his shoulder, he caught a final glimpse of Serena—pale-faced, trembling with rage, the coveted dress crumpled in her white-knuckled grip.

Pulling out his phone, Ethan shot Adrian a discreet text: "Package secured. En route to primary location."

Meanwhile, Adrian frowned at his phone screen from the backseat of his Maybach. "Change of plans," he instructed his driver. "Head directly to the estate."

As their car ascended the hill, Vivian spotted the sleek silver vehicle parked at the roadside. The setting sun glinted off its polished surface, making it impossible to miss. When Adrian emerged in his tailored black suit with silver embroidery, the reason for tonight's monochromatic dress code became clear.

The subtle pearlescent threads in his jacket mirrored the delicate shimmer of her gown, creating an understated yet intentional harmony. This quiet coordination spoke volumes more than any obvious matching ensemble could.

Ethan had barely parked when Adrian appeared at Vivian's door. "Grandmother insisted I escort you personally," he murmured, his deep voice laced with amusement as he leaned in.

Vivian arched an eyebrow. "How very dutiful of you." Her gaze swept over his impeccable attire. "Though I'm surprised you noticed my absence, given how... preoccupied you were with your ex's fashion choices."

Adrian's eyes narrowed. "I asked why you're not wearing the dress I selected. Not for a dramatic soliloquy."

"Because your childhood sweetheart seemed so emotionally invested in it," Vivian retorted, stepping past him. "I decided to spare everyone the spectacle of her fainting from sheer envy. Emergency rooms are crowded enough without her theatrics."

Adrian gave her a sidelong look. "Your compassion is... touching."

Pulling out her phone, Vivian scrolled past a message from Audrey about some new durian specialty shop near Cascade Residences. She'd declined—Beatrice Blackwood's birthday gala took precedence tonight.

The unread messages kept coming, but Vivian's attention was already elsewhere. The real performance was just beginning.