Chapter 172

Vivian's smile was like the first golden light of dawn melting winter's last frost, revealing a hidden radiance that made Adrian lose his breath for a moment.

He'd always been wary of women who stirred drama, especially within the complex web of his family. Before, Bianca had constantly thrown veiled insults at Vivian. Whenever Adrian noticed, he'd offer gentle admonishments. Vivian would always respond with that same serene smile, brushing off the tension as unimportant. But he was a wolf—how could his mate be a timid lamb?

The Vivian standing before him now ignited something primal in his chest.

"Bianca," Vivian spoke, her voice like honey laced with steel. "You've been so... persistent about this gift. Those who know you might call it thoughtfulness. But to outsiders, it might look like you simply can't stand seeing me shine." Her tone danced between playful and cutting, effortlessly exposing Bianca's true intentions.

Bianca's face twisted in irritation. "If you've actually prepared something, why the secrecy? Stop playing games!"

Vivian turned to Beatrice with genuine warmth. "My gift is a performance. I'll share it after dinner."

Adrian adjusted his cufflinks, eyebrows lifting in surprise. He hadn't expected this from Vivian, and curiosity burned through him. She was the same woman, yet fundamentally different—constantly defying his expectations.

Bianca's mocking laugh sliced through the moment. "A performance? Please don't tell me you're planning some amateur theatrics for our entertainment?"

Where Vivian exuded quiet grace, Bianca's exaggerated reactions seemed almost crude in comparison.

Beatrice's commanding voice cut through the tension. "Enough!"

Bianca froze, her bravado crumbling instantly. In her eagerness to one-up Vivian, she'd forgotten one crucial fact—Beatrice Blackwood wasn't someone you crossed lightly. As a distant relative of the Blackwood family, Bianca knew her place; she had no right to criticize Beatrice's chosen granddaughter-in-law.

The crowd's murmurs shifted, their earlier skepticism about Vivian now turning into quiet disdain for the Thornton family. Comments about their failing business ventures and Bianca's lack of decorum floated through the air like poisoned darts. Bianca felt their judgment like physical blows. She scanned the room desperately, her gaze landing on Margaret. But Margaret's attention was elsewhere, focused on Dominic who was typing on his phone with a smirk that suggested private amusement.

Bianca's instincts screamed danger. As Adrian and Vivian escorted Beatrice gracefully toward the Seabreeze Villa's dining room, Bianca's eyes burned into Vivian's retreating back. After a moment's hesitation, she squared her shoulders and marched toward Dominic.

Her voice dripped saccharine sweetness as she called, "Dominic."

Startled, Dominic took an exaggerated step back. When their eyes met, he relaxed dramatically, clutching his chest with a theatrical gasp. "Bianca! You move like a shadow—nearly gave me a coronary sneaking up like that. What are you, some kind of specter?"

Bianca blinked, thrown by the comparison. A specter? Wasn't she the picture of elegance? Still, she swallowed her irritation. This was her chance to get closer to Dominic Sinclair, and she wouldn't waste it.

Forcing patience into her voice, she asked, "Who has you so engrossed? You seemed completely absorbed."