Chapter 466

"Got it," Vivian said, sweeping past him with purposeful strides.

She made up her mind to go upstairs, change into something stylish, and lose herself in a shopping spree with Audrey. The golden sunlight streaming through the windows seemed to cut through the artificial chill of the air-conditioned mansion.

Vivian selected a daring violet halter top with an open back, pairing it with flowing white linen trousers that whispered with every step.

Without a sound, Adrian appeared in the doorway. He rummaged through her wardrobe before producing a high-necked blouse. His hands settled on her bare shoulders as he frowned. "This would be more appropriate."

Vivian twisted away from his touch, eyeing the offered garment with distaste. "I just spent forty minutes on my makeup. That turtleneck would smudge everything."

Adrian set the blouse aside and retrieved a leather moto jacket instead. "At least wear this over it. That top shows too much skin."

She rolled her eyes heavenward. "It's ninety degrees outside. Are you trying to give me heatstroke?"

Determined, Adrian continued searching until he presented three alternative tops. "These all provide adequate coverage. That backless number is completely unacceptable."

Vivian nearly laughed. The cutout was barely the size of a postcard - hardly scandalous by modern standards. She hadn't realized her husband harbored such antiquated views about women's fashion.

Not wanting to argue over something so trivial, she grabbed the least offensive option and pulled it on. "Happy now?"

Adrian's critical gaze lingered. "That fabric is practically sheer. I can still see—"

With dramatic flair, Vivian began unbuttoning the new top. "Should I just go naked then?"

He retreated hastily. "No! That one is... marginally acceptable."

Satisfied, Vivian snatched her designer handbag and headed for the door.

Ever since her secret identity as Katrina Spencer had been revealed, Vivian found herself constantly recognized. To avoid paparazzi, she and Audrey always met at an exclusive by-appointment-only boutique tucked discreetly inside a downtown office tower.

The boutique catered to elite clients with a curated selection ranging from ready-to-wear pieces to rare couture finds. Its owner, a poised woman in her early thirties with an understated elegance, greeted Vivian with a freshly prepared tea service.

"Mrs. Blackwood, you must try these," the owner said, presenting an artfully arranged dessert plate. "I trained under pastry chefs in Azurevale specifically to perfect these recipes."

Vivian selected a delicate mille-feuille. The crisp layers dissolved on her tongue, revealing a perfect harmony of tart berries and vanilla cream. "This is extraordinary," she murmured. "Better than anything I've had at those famous Azurevale patisseries in Crestwood."

Before the owner could respond, the boutique's door burst open with enough force to rattle the crystal chandelier.