Chapter 80

Adrian's physique was undeniably flawless, the one thing Vivian couldn't find fault with even if she tried.

A mocking smirk played on Adrian's lips as he caught her staring. "Enjoying the show?"

Vivian's cheeks flushed crimson, but she refused to back down. "Well, you're the one standing there half-naked. What else am I supposed to look at?"

He turned away with deliberate casualness, reaching for his discarded shirt.

His voice carried both amusement and something darker as he mused, "Sometimes I wonder if this divorce talk is just your twisted way of getting my attention."

"Don't flatter yourself," Vivian snapped, turning her face toward the window. "You're the last person I'd want attention from."

Adrian's expression remained unreadable as he buttoned his shirt. "Really? Then who was it who couldn't keep her hands off me in the car? Who clung to me like a limpet all night?"

"I was intoxicated," Vivian began, then realized her mistake too late.

She straightened her spine, forcing a cold smile. "If I were truly trying to seduce you, do you think I'd have ended up vomiting? My body clearly rejected you on instinct."

The words confirmed Adrian's earlier suspicions, yet something in him rebelled against accepting them. "You always have an angle," he muttered darkly.

Vivian exhaled sharply. "Why complicate things? Just sign the damn papers and we're done."

Adrian finished dressing, giving her a skeptical once-over. "You think marriage is some childish game? That you can walk away whenever you please and come crawling back later?"

A bitter laugh escaped Vivian's lips. "Your ego is truly staggering. When have I ever indicated I want reconciliation? We can put it in writing - a clause forbidding any future remarriage if that eases your fragile male pride."

"This is pointless," Adrian declared, striding toward the door. "I have actual responsibilities to attend to."

Left alone, Vivian sank back into the pillows, fragments of last night resurfacing.

She'd been violently ill all over Adrian. Given his notorious self-absorption, why hadn't he simply left her to deal with the aftermath alone?

Yet somehow they'd ended up sharing a bed.

Had he actually... taken care of her?

The door swung open again moments later.

This time it was Gwendolyn, the imperious housekeeper Adrian had recently hired, who swept in with an air of ownership, muttering about endless chores.

Spotting Vivian awake, the woman didn't bother hiding her disdain. "I was the one who changed your soiled clothes and put you to bed in the guest room last night."