Chapter 382

Vivian's lips twisted into a mocking smirk. "I approached you in broad daylight. Where exactly is the sneakiness in that?" She crossed her arms, her piercing gaze locking onto Richard's. "Or are you panicking because you're hiding something?"

Richard's body tensed, his face flushing crimson with rage. But before he could explode, Daphne subtly pressed her hand against his arm. She stepped forward, painting on a carefully crafted expression of concern.

"Vivian darling," Daphne cooed in that sickeningly sweet tone she'd perfected over the years, "there's no need to be so cruel to your own father. You've already taken control of Dawson Enterprises and your career is flourishing. What more could you possibly want? Can't you show some compassion for those less fortunate? My Natasha is still missing after that terrible accident—"

Her voice broke artificially, crocodile tears glistening in her eyes. For a fleeting moment, the emotion seemed genuine—perhaps because she truly was worried about Natasha.

Vivian arched one perfectly shaped eyebrow, completely unmoved. Her eyes flickered toward the hospital entrance behind them. "Why are they lingering out here instead of going inside?" she wondered silently. But sympathy had no place in her heart for these people. Whatever suffering they endured now was entirely of their own making.

"Natasha's predicament has nothing to do with me," Vivian stated coolly, slicing through Daphne's theatrical performance. "If she hadn't tried to destroy me, she wouldn't have gotten involved with someone like Maxwell." Her voice turned razor-sharp. "Maxwell's in police custody now."

"I'm willing to let bygones be bygones," Vivian continued, her tone steady but firm. "But if you dare target Eleanor again, don't expect any mercy from me."

Daphne flinched at Vivian's words, her carefully constructed mask slipping momentarily before she quickly recomposed herself. Decades of manipulation had honed her ability to conceal her true emotions. She forced a simpering smile. "Why must we always talk about violence? We only came to visit Eleanor."

Richard, sensing his wife was losing ground, puffed out his chest and changed tactics. His voice boomed with false paternal authority. "Like it or not, I am your father—both morally and legally! You have obligations to me. If you ruin me, the scandal will tarnish your reputation too!"

Before Vivian could respond, a young security guard approached, alerted by the commotion. "Didn't I already ask you to leave?" he barked, his stern gaze fixed on Richard and Daphne. "Why are you still loitering here?"

When the guard noticed Vivian, his entire demeanor transformed. His face softened into a respectful smile. "Mrs. Blackwood, do you need assistance? Mr. Blackwood gave strict orders not to allow these two inside the hospital."

Vivian blinked in momentary surprise, then felt an unexpected warmth spread through her chest. So Adrian had already taken measures to protect her. Her expression softened as she addressed the guard. "Thank you. You've handled this perfectly. I'll make sure Mr. Blackwood knows about your excellent service."

The guard—who looked barely out of college—blushed under her praise. Mrs. Blackwood wasn't just stunningly beautiful—she was gracious too. He stood taller, swelling with pride. "Thank you, Mrs. Blackwood," he said earnestly. "Shall I escort them off the premises?"

Richard's temper flared. "Escort us? Are you blind? Can't you see we're her parents? You're just some lowly security guard! You're messing with the wrong people!"

Vivian let out a soft, humorless laugh, her words cutting like glass. "You actually believe you can just declare yourselves my parents after everything?"

Richard's face turned an alarming shade of purple as he struggled for a retort. Then his eyes darted to something behind Vivian, and his entire posture shifted. "I don't have time to waste arguing with an ungrateful child," he muttered abruptly, grabbing Daphne's arm. "Let's go." With that, they hurried away in the opposite direction.