Silent Dreams Never Die — Author: John Miller 411
Chapter 411 Confrontation at the Cinema
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Vincent looked at Sabrina, his expression icy. “Stay with Vanessa. I need to go out for a bit.”
Sabrina looked confused. “Vincent, where could you possibly need to go at this hour?”
Vincent didn’t meet her eyes again. His voice was flat and cold. “To pick up the child’s mother.”
With that, he strode out of the hospital room.
Sabrina stood rooted to the spot, watching Vincent’s retreating figure, a tumult of emotions churning inside her.
Just recently, Vincent had spoken to her about marriage.
Now, it seemed his attention was drifting back to Scarlett.
A sharp, cold sense of unease pierced through Sabrina’s chest.
When Vincent pulled up to the multiplex, the movie had just let out, and couples were flooding the exits.
Young pairs walked hand–in–hand, looking cozy and affectionate. Some of the more
uninhibited ones were still stealing kisses as they emerged into the night air.
Seeing this scene, Vincent couldn’t help but wonder if Scarlett and Damian had been doing the same in the dark theater.
Judging by the showtime, they’d likely watched a horror movie.
Choosing a scary film for a date was a classic move with obvious intentions.
Vincent stood by the curb. The more he thought about it, the hotter his anger burned.
As the crowd finally thinned, Vincent finally spotted Scarlett and Damian walking out of the glass doors together.
The night wind had a sharp bite to it. The moment they stepped outside, Damian shrugged out of his coat and draped it over Scarlett’s shoulders.
Before Scarlett could even murmur a thanks, Vincent stepped forward, unable to wait any longer. His face was like stone, his narrowed eyes gleaming with a dangerous intensity. His gaze was colder still, sharp enough to cut.
“Vanessa is sick in the hospital, and you have the nerve to be out on a date?”
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Chapter 411 Confrontation at the Cinema
His first words were pure accusation.
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Scarlett looked at him, a mocking smile touching her lips. “She doesn’t even acknowledge me as her mother. Why shouldn’t I go see a movie?”
Vincent’s expression darkened further. He raised his voice. “I’m giving you one last chance. Come with me to the hospital to see Vanessa.”
Scarlett refused, firm and blunt. “No.”
Seeing her resistance, Vincent moved to grab her arm.
But just as his hand shot out, Damian slapped it away.
At the same time, Damian shifted to place himself squarely between Vincent and Scarlett. “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, his voice cold.
Only then did Vincent properly look at Damian. He let out a short, scornful laugh. “Need I remind you she’s still my
wife?”
Damian matched his tone, his face a mask of sarcasm. “Isn’t your wife named Sabrina?”
Vincent’s face clouded over, a rare crack in his usual composure showing his anger. He lowered his voice to a growl. “Would you like me to fetch the marriage certificate to prove it?”
Damian remained unmoved, unnervingly calm. Vincent’s anger seemed to amuse him.
When he spoke, his tone was dripping with mockery. “No need. But I wouldn’t mind a look at the divorce papers.”
Faced with the provocation, Vincent’s anger seemed to crystallize into something colder. The corner of his mouth curled. He looked Damian up and down with disdain. “What makes you so sure I’ll divorce her? What makes you think I’d ever let the two of you be together?”
Hearing this, Damian’s control snapped. His expression turned to ice in an instant, and he seized Vincent by the front of his shirt. “Vincent,” he snarled, “say that again.”
Vincent raised an eyebrow and repeated, softly and clearly, “I said, what makes you think I’ll divorce her? And what makes you think I’d be willing to let you two be together?”
In that moment, white–hot rage flooded through Damian. His eyes instantly turned bloodshot. “Haven’t
you hurt her enough?” he shouted. “What more do you want from her?”
With that, he drew back his fist.
Vincent, of course, had no intention of standing there and taking a punch.
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Just like that, the two men stood poised for a fight.
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Scarlett, who had been standing behind Damian, saw the situation spiraling. Worried, she stepped forward. She tugged on Damian’s sleeve. “Damian,” she said, her voice low but firm. “Let me talk to him alone.”
Damian’s eyes were still blazing. He looked down at her, his voice unconsciously harsh. “Talk about what? With someone like him, anything you say is just a waste of breath.”
A deep unease settled in Scarlett’s stomach. She was afraid Damian’s aggression would only push Vincent into a corner.
What if Vincent dug in his heels and decided he truly wouldn’t grant the divorce? What would she do then?
Seeing things getting further out of hand, Scarlett raised her voice, sharp with frustration. “Damian, he is still my legal husband. If I don’t talk to him, who should I talk to?”
Scarlett could feel the dangerous edge of Vincent’s anger. If she wanted this divorce, she still had to handle him carefully.
What if, in a fit of spite when the mandatory waiting period ended, he suddenly refused to finalize it? What recourse would she have?
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