Chapter 11
Vivian watched the man sitting by her bed, searching his eyes for even a trace of the familiar warmth from when they’d been in love.
But there wasn’t any. Logan wasn’t the man he used to be.
“No. The doctor said my foot isn’t a big deal. It won’t affect the wedding.”
She’d already arranged everything. Nothing could be allowed to derail it.
There were only 14 days left. Then, she would be gone for good.
Logan frowned, his expression serious, a hint of displeasure buried in his eyes.
“There’s a lot to handle with the wedding. My mom’s in poor health, so she can’t help much. When the time comes, you’ll have to manage everything yourself. I’m worried your body won’t be able to take it.”
The way he sounded like he had her in his thoughts when he was really just covering for another woman made Vivian feel sick.
“Aren’t you more worried that Sloane will get upset when she sees us getting married?”
Logan choked on his words. When he spoke again, his voice was a notch louder. “Why are you bringing her up again?”
Vivian said, “Then, why were you at the hospital with her?”
A flash of guilt crossed Logan’s eyes, but it vanished almost immediately, replaced by his usual composure. “I already told you, I wasn’t feeling well, so I‘
Vivian cut him off. “Where’s your report?”
Logan froze.
Vivian gave a cold, humorless laugh and checked the time on her phone. “At this hour, your results should be out. Who is your attending doctor? I want to see the report.”
The room fell into a brief, suffocating silence.
Vivian stared quietly at the man seated by her bed, the ridicule in her eyes sharpening.
A knock broke the silence.
Sloane pushed the door open and peeked her head in, nervous and cautious. “Mr. Whitfield, your report is out. You hadn’t come out, so I went ahead and picked it up for you.”
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Chapter 11
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Logan’s rigid posture eased instantly. He stood, went to the door, and took the report from
her.
He glanced down once, then turned and tossed it onto Vivian’s bed. “Well? What do you have to say now?”
He stood over the bed, looking down at her with arrogant authority. There wasn’t a trace of guilt or shame on his face. There was only the pride of someone trying to press her into submission.
Vivian didn’t pick up the report. She just looked at him.
The man she had once risked everything for had lost every last shine in her eyes, as if the halo had finally burned out. She couldn’t find a single thing about him that still pulled her in.
She only felt tired.
She flicked her hand and swept the report off the bed, then lifted her eyes to Sloane at the door and smiled faintly. “Aren’t you tired?”
Sloane lowered her head and didn’t dare meet Vivian’s gaze.
Frowning, Logan stepped in front of Sloane. “That’s enough! If you don’t want to postpone
the wedding, that’s fine. Then, we’ll do it on schedule. But don’t take your anger out on
someone who hasn’t done anything to you.”
Behind him, Sloane lifted her chin, looking at him with undisguised adoration. “Mr. Whitfield…”
Logan turned to her. “I’ll take you back.”
Sloane pressed her lips together and glanced at Vivian, hesitating. “You should stay here with Vivian.”
Logan glanced at Vivian and stopped in his tracks.
Vivian didn’t back down. Logan frowned and kept walking toward the door.
When he reached the door, Vivian finally spoke. “Logan, I don’t have to marry you.”
His face turned frighteningly cold. He grabbed Sloane’s hand and walked out.
As they left, Sloane turned back and looked at Vivian, open provocation spilling from her eyes.
That night, the private room was so quiet it felt hollow. Vivian stared at the hazy moonlight
Chapter 11
outside the window, lost in thought.
Camille called right then.
“Are you feeling better?”
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Vivian froze for a moment. She hadn’t told Camille she was hospitalized. She figured Camille had heard from Kingston, and her grip on the phone tightened.
“It doesn’t hurt as much.”
It was just humiliating.
Camille hummed flatly in response, her tone still cool and detached, as if emotion wasn’t part
of the conversation.
“Vanessa said you’re planning to sell the Whitfield Group shares. Kingston set up a branch in Baymoor, and he wants to acquire Whitfield Group as a stepping stone for that branch.”
A stepping stone meant only one thing. One day, Whitfield Group would be swallowed whole by the Howard Group’s branch in Baymoor. It would cease to exist.
Vivian had poured seven years into Whitfield Group. She hesitated.
Camille didn’t push her. She only added flatly, “Kingston will be in Baymoor for the next two weeks. Once you’ve decided, contact him directly. He’s generous when he buys, so you can raise your price a bit.”
Then, she hung up, not bothering with any extra small talk.
Vivian held her phone and stayed silent for a long time.
Logan, who hadn’t contacted her all afternoon, finally sent a message.
“I’m working late at the office.”
The man who used to panic if she got the smallest scrape now sent only a few cold words, without a shred of warmth.
Vivian looked at it and didn’t reply.
Sloane posted again, with another photo.
The caption read, “Baby’s dad said he wanted to hear the heartbeat. I didn’t expect him to be even more excited than I was about this baby.”
The
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