Chapter 516

Adrian's piercing gaze locked onto Vivian's. "What if I choose not to explain? Will you stop jumping to conclusions?"

Vivian met his stare unflinchingly. "You have your right to silence, just as I have mine to think whatever I please. You can't police my thoughts, can you?"

With a resigned exhale, Adrian finally relented. "She somehow dug up some information about Serena's family background—"

Vivian knew Serena came from modest beginnings in Crestwood's outskirts. Mr. Holloway held some local sway, making it easy enough for Penelope to uncover certain details about Serena's past.

Curiosity piqued, Vivian tilted her head. "Why would Penelope suddenly bring up Serena?"

Adrian hesitated briefly before responding. "I mentioned going home for dinner with my wife. She must have assumed I meant Serena."

Vivian's breath hitched. The mental image of Adrian playing the devoted husband before a room full of middle-aged socialites sent heat rushing to her cheeks. Such public displays of affection felt unbearably intimate.

Adrian leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Now will you stop overanalyzing and just eat?"

"Mmm." Vivian nodded obediently.

Across town in the penthouse suite of Harbor Grand Hotel, city lights painted the spacious interior in golden hues through floor-to-ceiling windows. Serena lounged on the plush sofa, her silk nightgown shimmering as she swirled a glass of cabernet. Though her eyes traced the glittering skyline, her expression remained distant, lips pressed into a thin line.

Beneath her polished exterior simmered something darker, barely contained.

Opposite her, a rough-looking man shifted uncomfortably in his chair. His leather jacket showed signs of wear, tattooed fingers drumming nervously against denim-clad knees as he watched Serena with unease.

"The view's magnificent, isn't it?" Serena mused, voice detached. "All this beauty... only attainable through wealth and influence."

The man cleared his throat, wiping sweaty palms on his jeans. "Serena, there's... an issue. Someone's asking questions about your father's accident. An actual witness came forward. Don't know why they stayed quiet all these years, but now—"

Serena set her wineglass down with deliberate calm. "So what if Adrian learns my father was a drunk driver?" Her laugh held no warmth. "He stopped caring about me long ago. Why would my family history matter to him now?"

Her lips twisted into a bitter smile. She'd always been vain, yes. But when a man like Adrian—devastatingly handsome, impossibly wealthy, with patience that seemed endless—had stood by her side, she'd felt entitled to recklessness.