Chapter 316

Vivian hesitated, then exhaled sharply before pouring him a steaming cup of Ivory Summit blend. She slid it across the marble counter with a pointed look. "I heard Blackwood Group's been operating at maximum capacity lately. Between the expansion plans and that AI partnership with Frostholm - aren't you spread too thin? What brings you here instead of your office?"

"Even CEOs need breathing room," Adrian countered, shrugging off his tailored jacket and draping it over the leather sofa. "I'm not some algorithm you can run 24/7."

He settled into the chair beside Vivian, took a deliberate sip of the coffee, then extended the porcelain cup toward her. "Try it. Your favorite single-origin blend."

Her fingers trembled slightly as she accepted it, the dark liquid mirroring her unsettled thoughts.

His appearance at Dawson Enterprises earlier, and now at the Blackwood estate - this was no coincidence. While he'd defended her before, those moments felt accidental. Today carried undeniable purpose.

Margaret's hawk-like gaze tracked the exchange, her displeasure barely concealed. She turned toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. "Dawson Enterprises is beyond salvaging. Throwing money at it won't change that. If they're begging for help, write them a check and be done. Why dirty your hands with their mess?"

Adrian started to respond, but Vivian's fingers brushed his wrist in silent warning. She squared her shoulders. "Margaret, that company was my mother's life's work. She built it from nothing."

The older woman's razor-sharp stare cut through her. "Didn't you already reclaim your mother's old penthouse? How much more of your life will you waste chasing ghosts? When does it end?"

The verbal blow landed with precision. Vivian took a steadying breath, the rich coffee aroma grounding her. "The penthouse came from my personal funds. And the company isn't just about sentiment - it has real potential. Poor leadership sank it, not lack of opportunity."

Adrian's knuckles whitened around his cup as Vivian absorbed Margaret's barbs.

"Potential?" Margaret's laugh held Arctic chill. "That second-rate operation was never remarkable, even in its prime."

Adrian rolled up his sleeves with deliberate slowness, his voice deceptively calm. "Uncle Victor's ventures have burned through ten times the capital with zero returns. Everyone saw the red flags except him. Yet you never criticize his recklessness. If you need a project, Mother, perhaps redirect your attention there."

Bianca, silent until now, gasped dramatically. "Adrian!"

He didn't spare her a glance. "And you. The Thornton heiress pretending to be Crestwood royalty. Yet you spread gossip like a tabloid reporter. News travels fast in our circles. Tell me, what respectable family wants a troublemaker for a daughter-in-law?"

Bianca's mouth snapped shut, thoughts clearly turning to Dominic. She crossed her arms with a huff.

Margaret wasn't so easily silenced. Her palm struck the glass table with a crack. "Don't twist my meaning! Everything I do is for your future! The Dawsons can't compare to your uncle's family. Say what you will about Victor, but he's always come through when it mattered most. If not for him arriving when he did all those years ago, would you even be standing here today?"