Chapter 184

The dim glow of the bedside lamp cast long shadows across the room as Adrian lay propped against the pillows, his stormy gaze following Vivian's every move. His jaw tightened with barely concealed frustration when another soft knock interrupted the tense silence.

"Vivian? Are you both still awake?" Beatrice's voice carried through the door, laced with poorly disguised curiosity. The question hung in the air like an unspoken accusation.

Vivian exhaled sharply through her nose, her fingers tightening around her phone. She'd had enough of Beatrice's meddling for one night. Family harmony be damned - she refused to play along this time.

"We're up," she answered flatly, abandoning the plush sofa cushions with visible reluctance. The door swung open before her fingers touched the knob.

Beatrice's sharp eyes swept over Vivian's fully clothed form, her face falling into an expression of profound disappointment. With a dismissive wave, she summoned a maid carrying an ornate silver tray.

"I brought honey milk for Adrian," Beatrice announced with forced cheer, "and fish maw milk for you, Vivian. It'll help you sleep." Her smile didn't reach her eyes.

"Thank you, Beatrice." Vivian accepted the tray with stiff politeness.

The older woman didn't linger, closing the door with an audible click of the lock. The sound echoed through the room like a prison gate slamming shut.

Shaking her head, Vivian placed Adrian's drink on his nightstand. "Your grandmother's special recipe," she said dryly before retreating to her makeshift bed on the sofa.

The rich aroma of her own drink made her mouth water. The luxurious fish maw, simmered to perfection in fresh milk with just a hint of rock sugar, was worlds away from the instant noodles that usually stocked her pantry. Each velvety sip reminded her of the privileges money could buy - and how desperately she wanted to reclaim that independence.

Adrian watched her with unusual interest, his fingers twitching toward her bowl. "That good? Let me taste."

"Get your own," Vivian shot back, protectively cradling the bowl as she devoured the last precious bites.

His lips thinned as he drained his honey milk in one long swallow, slamming the empty cup down with more force than necessary. "People would think the Blackwoods starve you," he remarked, barely stopping himself from comparing her to a rabid dog guarding its meal.

Despite the satisfying meal, an odd restlessness prickled under Vivian's skin. She longed for a cool shower and the oblivion of sleep, but Adrian's brooding presence made both impossible.

Scrolling through her phone provided little distraction. A strange heat was building inside her, spreading through her limbs like liquid fire. She tugged at the hem of her skirt, hoping the night air would soothe her flushed skin, but the discomfort only intensified.

The room seemed to shrink around them, the walls pressing closer with each passing minute. Vivian's breath came faster now, her fingers trembling against her phone screen. Something was very wrong.

Adrian's sharp inhale told her he felt it too. His usually composed features had taken on a dangerous edge, his knuckles white where they gripped the sheets. Their eyes met across the shadowed room - and in that charged moment, they both understood.

The drinks had been spiked.