Chapter 309

Vivian's instincts flared as she faced Gwendolyn's probing gaze. The housekeeper's eyes narrowed with skepticism. "That's quite an elegant outfit for a simple shopping trip, Mrs. Blackwood. More suitable for a business meeting, wouldn't you say?"

Vivian's fingers tightened around her purse strap. "Since when do I need your approval for my wardrobe choices?" Her voice dripped with frost. "This is what I chose to wear today. Do you have an issue with that?"

Gwendolyn's cheeks flushed. "I didn't mean to offend," she stammered, dropping her gaze. "You're rather... spirited today, Mrs. Blackwood."

"And you're rather nosy for someone employed to manage Seabreeze Villa, not my personal affairs." Vivian's stiletto heels struck the marble stairs like gunshots as she descended.

The garage door lifted to reveal her sleek Bentley Continental. Halfway to her destination, Vivian pulled over to unblock Richard's number. His voice crackled through the speakers, laced with sarcasm. "Well, well. The prodigal daughter returns. What do you want now that you suddenly remember we exist?"

"We need to talk," Vivian stated, her knuckles whitening on the steering wheel.

Richard's reply came clipped. "Come to Dawson Enterprises. We're leaving for the hospital to visit your sister soon—no time for detours."

"Thirty minutes. The office." Vivian ended the call and threw her phone onto the passenger seat, accelerating toward the free-trade zone.

The new location of Dawson Enterprises bore no resemblance to its former downtown address from Vivian's childhood. Twenty years had transformed the area into a hub of modest businesses, where economy cars dominated the parking lots. Her Bentley's purring engine turned heads as she pulled in.

Just as she parked, a taxi disgorged Richard and Daphne. Though only days had passed since their last encounter, time had carved deeper lines into their faces. Daphne's thick foundation couldn't mask the new wrinkles or the purple shadows beneath her eyes.

Richard's expression darkened when he spotted the luxury vehicle. "Selling just one of these could've saved our company," he spat. "Yet you watched us drown. What kind of monster does that?"

Daphne seized the moment, dabbing at dry eyes for the growing audience. "You may hate us, but Natasha's innocent! How could you let this happen to your own flesh and blood?"

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. The beautiful woman in designer clothes now appeared heartless under their scrutiny.

Vivian crossed her arms, her emerald eyes glacial. "If you're here to perform your victim act, save it. If you want help, try asking properly."

The couple's bravado evaporated. Vivian took one measured step forward—the click of her Louboutins silencing the whispers. An invisible forcefield of authority surrounded her as she addressed the gawkers. "Before judging, make sure you know the full story. Don't be someone's puppet."

Coming from anyone else, it might have sounded like bluster. But Vivian Hartley-Blackwood carried herself with the unshakable confidence of someone who'd earned every ounce of her power. The crowd parted like the Red Sea as she strode toward the glass office tower. After a beat, Richard and Daphne scrambled after her, their earlier theatrics forgotten.