Chapter 501

The morning sunlight streamed through the curtains as Vivian stretched her arms above her head. She kicked off the silk sheets, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpet. The soft fibers tickled her toes, bringing an unexpected smile to her face.

Her eyes scanned the bedroom until they landed on a forgotten treasure - an ornate crystal vase tucked away in the cabinet. The handcrafted piece caught the light, refracting rainbow prisms across the walls. Perfect for the roses.

Vivian filled the vase with fresh water, carefully unwrapping the bouquet. Each stem found its place in the arrangement, the vibrant red blooms glowing like embers in the morning light. She was admiring her handiwork when her phone buzzed.

It was Damien Vaughn, summoning her to an unexpected promotional event. She touched her cheek absently - the ointment had worked wonders overnight, erasing all traces of yesterday's irritation.

She chose an emerald green halter dress with daring cutouts that accentuated her waist. Delicate pearl pins held back her cascading waves, while ornate ear cuffs graced her lobes. A gift from Ethan, specially designed since she'd never gotten her ears pierced.

The venue was already packed when she arrived. To her astonishment, a group of fans waved handmade signs with her name. Her first real fan encounter sent warmth spreading through her chest. These strangers had come just for her.

Before the event began, she posed for photos and signed autographs. Noticing their flushed faces in the summer heat, she surprised them with iced matcha lattes. Unbeknownst to her, the gesture would soon trend on social media as #ViviansMatchaMagic.

The Ambermyst promotional event was Ivory Phoenix Productions' latest extravaganza. Interactive stations let fans experience key scenes while Q&A sessions revealed behind-the-scenes secrets. The energy was electric, but exhausting.

Hours later, her feet screamed in protest. These stilettos weren't the comfortable wedges she'd worn during university lectures. She discreetly slipped backstage, kicking off her shoes with a relieved sigh.

The lounge smelled rancid - someone's abandoned takeout congealing in its container. The greasy odor clung to the air, turning her stomach. Before she could react, she was clutching a trash can, heaving up nothing but bile.

When she looked up, Serena Whitmore stood frozen in the doorway. The usually provocative socialite wore an uncharacteristically blank expression. Dressed in virginal white, she seemed almost... human.

Vivian remembered seeing Serena's name on a boutique opening schedule for this very mall. The universe had a twisted sense of humor, constantly throwing them together.

Turning away, Vivian grabbed a water bottle to rinse her mouth. She hadn't eaten much anyway - with Adrian away, she'd barely touched breakfast before rushing out. Now her empty stomach protested both hunger and nausea simultaneously.

The intercom crackled, summoning her back to the event. She squared her shoulders, slipping her aching feet back into the torture devices masquerading as shoes. The show, as they say, must go on.