Chapter 495

Adrian moved toward the window to settle the bill, but Vivian caught his sleeve with delicate fingers. "Let me check on him first," she murmured, her voice like morning dew.

Adrian gave her a fleeting glance, his expression unreadable. "What's there to check? He's just sitting there."

Vivian's eyes widened before she playfully swatted his arm. "That's your nephew you're talking about. Show some concern!"

Adrian pressed his tongue against his cheek, the ghost of a smirk disappearing as quickly as it came. He didn't protest.

With her hands buried in the oversized pockets of her sweatshirt, looking almost adolescent, Vivian approached Julian. "Julian," she called softly.

He lifted his head, his complexion alarmingly pale, lips nearly colorless. Despite obvious exhaustion, he managed a faint smile. "Vivian, I apologize for disturbing you so late."

Vivian's brow furrowed with gentle reproach. "Julian, if you keep being this formal with me, I'll start thinking you don't consider me family."

She produced a small thermos from her pocket. "Ginger and honey tea. Picked it up from that all-night café near the studio. Kept it warm against my body."

Julian hesitated, his hand suspended midair. "I don't usually drink—"

"Doesn't matter what you usually do," Vivian interrupted, her tone firm yet tender. "You're white as hospital sheets." Her gaze dropped to his bandaged forearm where crimson blossoms marred the sterile gauze.

Reluctantly, Julian accepted the container with his uninjured hand. Vivian leaned in to unscrew the lid, her chestnut waves brushing his cheek. The delicate fragrance of jasmine from her hair enveloped him—fresh yet sophisticated, much like the woman herself.

Up close, Julian noticed a faint love bite peeking from behind Vivian's ear. His throat constricted as memories of her locked in Adrian's embrace flooded his mind, leaving a bitter aftertaste.

Vivian settled beside him, careful of his injury. "How bad is it really?" she asked, tilting her head.

Julian shrugged. "Papercut. Got too close to an overenthusiastic fan with sharp nails."

Before Vivian could reply, a nurse emerged from the treatment area. "Papercut?" she scoffed. "The muscle was visible—took fifty-three stitches. Keep it dry in this heat or you'll be back with sepsis."

Vivian nodded earnestly. "Thank you, we'll make sure he follows instructions."

The nurse smiled at Vivian. "Listen to your girlfriend. She clearly cares about you."

Vivian froze, mouth slightly parted. Before she could clarify, Adrian materialized behind her, his arm snaking around her waist. "Misunderstanding," he stated coolly. "She's my fiancée. This is our nephew."