Chapter 43

The digital storm surrounding Vivian Hartley showed no signs of abating. "The online backlash against Mrs. Blackwood is intensifying. Should I intervene and suppress the trending hashtags?" Ethan Caldwell inquired cautiously, watching Adrian Blackwood's reaction closely. The recent tension between Vivian and Adrian had created an atmosphere thick with unspoken words, making Ethan hesitant to act without explicit instructions.

"Let it be," Adrian commanded, his fingers stilling abruptly on the mahogany desk. His obsidian eyes darkened as they caught sight of the faint teeth marks on his wrist, his lips curling into a sardonic smirk. "If Vivian believes she can make it on her own, let her weather this storm alone. If a mere social media frenzy breaks her, how will she survive the viper's nest of Hollywood?"

"Understood, Mr. Blackwood," Ethan replied, relief coloring his tone at having sought clarification. As he turned to leave, Adrian's voice stopped him mid-step. "Ensure Serena remains untouched by this mess. Her constitution is delicate, and unnecessary stress could trigger another episode. Monitor the comment sections - I won't have her dragged into this circus."

Ethan's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the unexpected directive. He opened his mouth to respond but thought better of it when he saw the icy detachment in Adrian's gaze. With a silent nod, he retreated from the office. Adrian noted his assistant's hesitation but remained unmoved, watching the door click shut behind him.

Leaning back in his leather chair, Adrian steepled his fingers beneath his chin. Vivian's determination to leave him - to dissolve their marriage for the sake of independence - still burned fresh in his memory. He would let her struggle, let her flounder in the harsh reality she'd chosen. Soon enough, she'd come crawling back, realizing the protection and privilege the Blackwood name afforded. He could wait. He would wait.

The sudden vibration of his phone shattered the silence. Adrian glanced at the caller ID with visible reluctance before answering. The moment the call connected, Beatrice Blackwood's anxious voice filled the line.

"Adrian, where are you? Ethan mentioned Vivian was injured! How is she recovering? You know how important physical appearance is for a young woman in her position. What if there's scarring? She'll be self-conscious wearing dresses! You must take excellent care of her!"

Adrian's eyes widened at the mention of an injury, confusion flickering across his features before he schooled his expression. "I'm at the office, Grandmother. Her recovery is progressing well." Even as he spoke, images flashed through his mind - Vivian's bandaged leg, the hospital visit. She must have been hurt during that warehouse fire incident. An unfamiliar twinge, something between concern and guilt, tightened his chest unexpectedly.

On the other end, Beatrice's tone softened into maternal wisdom. "Adrian, remember - you chose her. It's your responsibility to cherish and protect your wife. Don't let that cold exterior of yours push her away, especially now. She must be terrified after that fire. Comfort her, support her."

A pause, then more gently: "Your grandfather and I will be returning to Blackwood Manor in a few days. We'd love for you both to visit. Bring Vivian with you, won't you?"

"Understood," Adrian replied tersely before ending the call. Without hesitation, he pressed the intercom button.

"Mr. Blackwood?" Ethan reappeared instantly, confusion written across his features until he met Adrian's steel-gray gaze.