Chapter 337

Vivian gave a casual nod. "That tracks," she murmured under her breath.

It was standard practice for Blackwood Group to sponsor multiple reality shows annually. Truth be told, their initial foray into entertainment sponsorships had been because of Serena.

Adrian stubbed out his cigarette in the crystal ashtray, his mind drifting to earlier that evening. The grand piano had been a strategic gift, one that had elicited her rare excitement. Now that he'd dropped the sponsorship hint, he felt entitled to some reciprocation.

He shifted closer, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her bare arm. "Sweetheart," he coaxed in that velvet voice that usually melted her resistance. "Take the lead tonight."

His eyes held that dangerous glint - half challenge, half promise. He wanted to see what she'd learned, how she'd respond when given control.

But Vivian surprised him. She recoiled like she'd been burned, scrambling off the bed with uncharacteristic haste. Her silk nightgown whispered against her skin as she pulled it on.

"I'm exhausted," she declared, tying the sash with sharp movements. "And starving. I'm going downstairs for food."

Adrian's gaze lingered on the faint red marks marring her thighs - his marks. Heat coiled low in his abdomen. "One more round," he bargained, voice rough with want. "I'll have Gwendolyn bring you a tray."

Vivian didn't pause as she stepped into her lounge pants. "Not happening."

She dressed with frantic efficiency, like the room had suddenly become toxic. Without so much as a backward glance, she slipped through the door, leaving him alone with his frustration.

Adrian slumped against the headboard, exhaling sharply through his nose. He pressed his tongue against his canine, staring at the closed door with simmering irritation.

This was classic Vivian. Always retreating after getting what she wanted, leaving him unraveled and wanting more.

One hour earlier.

In the gilded spa suite of Harbor Grand Hotel, Serena lounged on a velvet chaise, twisting the diamond bracelet around her wrist. Another extravagant gift from Adrian.

Miranda, perched on a nearby ottoman, let out an appreciative whistle. "That's obscenely gorgeous," she gushed. "You'll be the undisputed queen of Spotlight Night, Serena. The other women won't stand a chance."

A junior aesthetician chimed in, eyes wide with envy. "Eight million sterling! Ms. Whitmore, you're living every woman's fantasy. To receive something like this without even hinting... your luck is unreal."

Serena's lips curved in a practiced, demure smile. "It's really nothing," she demurred, though pride flickered in her eyes. "I heard the auction's real showstopper was some hundred-million-sterling piano."

Her phone vibrated on the side table. When she glanced at the screen, her carefully constructed composure fractured. The image showed Vivian seated at the legendary piano from Eternal Melody, her fingers poised above the ivory keys.

The much-anticipated premiere of Vivian's variety show had finally arrived. Among the panelists, two were relatively unknown, but the third - Julian Montoya, Vivian's longtime friend - brought considerable star power. Julian's unfiltered honesty and raw acting talent had earned him a devoted following.

Clips of Julian's most candid moments, expertly edited by the marketing team, were already going viral, further boosting the show's visibility.