Chapter 58

"Vivian, what in heaven's name are you wearing?" Bianca sneered, her eyes raking over Vivian's outfit with obvious contempt. "The Blackwoods are known for their sophistication, yet you show up looking like some common shopgirl."

"Honestly, I don't understand how living with Adrian hasn't improved your fashion sense one bit. You still carry that provincial air about you." Bianca's voice oozed disdain as she examined Vivian's simple attire.

Vivian wore an affordable cashmere sweater in chestnut brown from a popular high-street brand, paired with tailored taupe trousers that embodied understated elegance. The entire ensemble cost less than five hundred sterlings - a stark contrast to the Blackwood mansion's opulence.

Adrian's earlier warning echoed in Vivian's mind, making her regret not taking his advice more seriously. Just as self-doubt crept in, Adrian himself entered the room. "Bianca, show some respect. She's family now," he interjected coolly, barely glancing at his cousin before addressing Margaret. "Mother."

"Adrian—" Bianca's haughty demeanor instantly crumbled at the sound of his voice. Of all their relatives, he was the one she feared most.

Adrian's voice turned steely, cutting through the tension in the room. "I asked you a question. Did you hear me?"

"Yes," Bianca muttered, her gaze dropping to the floor in reluctant submission.

Only then did Adrian's expression soften as he turned to admire Vivian. A proud smile touched his lips. "Only insecure people need designer labels to feel important. Vivian could wear a potato sack and still outshine everyone in this room."

Victor and Bianca exchanged frustrated glances but remained silent. Pushing further would only provoke Adrian's wrath.

Their awkward silence was broken by Leonard and Beatrice's arrival. The elderly couple made a striking entrance in matching ivory suits, clearly custom-made by that legendary Savile Row tailor who once dressed European royalty. Each piece was practically a museum-worthy collector's item.

Though retired for years, Leonard still commanded respect with his mere presence. Victor visibly tensed, acutely aware of his father-in-law's disapproval, while Beatrice radiated the serene confidence of someone who'd spent decades cultivating inner peace.

When Beatrice's eyes landed on Vivian, they filled with gentle concern. "Come here, dear, let me see how you're doing," she beckoned warmly.

Vivian approached them respectfully, nodding to Leonard before taking Beatrice's hands in hers. "Beatrice, I'm perfectly fine now, really," she assured the older woman. "Leonard, Beatrice."

Bianca trailed behind, shooting Vivian a venomous look and mouthing "Teacher's pet" under her breath. Vivian noticed but ignored it - her affection for Beatrice was genuine, not some calculated social maneuver.

Adrian smoothly intervened with an update to ease their worries. "Grandmother, there's no need for concern. I've arranged for Vivian to consult with Frostholm's leading dermatologist - an expert in scar treatment - when he visits Crestwood next week for the medical conference."

Vivian's eyelashes fluttered slightly at this news, though her expression remained composed. Adrian never hesitated to provide the best care money could buy.

The tension in the room thickened as unspoken rivalries simmered beneath polite conversation. Vivian stood quietly, acutely aware of being both the center of attention and an outsider in this powerful family's dynamic.

Adrian's hand found the small of her back in silent support, his touch conveying more reassurance than words ever could. In that moment, Vivian realized no amount of designer clothing could ever compare to having his unwavering protection.