Chapter 133

Vivienne stepped from the bathroom to find her phone buzzing insistently on the table. Answering, she heard Owen’s worried voice.

“I’ve been worried sick! You finally picked up!” Relief colored his words, though Vivienne remained puzzled. “What happened?” she asked, continuing to dry her hair.

“I went to Sinclair’s apartment and couldn’t find you. When you didn’t answer my calls, I feared something had happened.” Owen paused. “By the way, I left some groceries in your fridge.”

Vivienne changed the subject. “Could you look into a black car for me? Last digits 256.”

The line was silent except for the rapid tapping of keys. Finally, Owen responded, “It’s running on fake plates. According to records, that vehicle should have been scrapped.” He hesitated. “Why are you investigating this?”

A cold expression settled on Vivienne’s face. “Keep watching Steve for me.”

“Are you concerned those people knew what happened between you and the Mitchell family?” Owen probed.

Surprise flickered across Vivienne’s face. “You know about that?”

“I avoid the Mitchells’ drama,” Owen replied, his voice tinged with contempt. “But I heard about Natalie’s foolishness. She tried returning a fake antique, threatening to destroy the shop without a refund. Did she really expect them to let that slide?”

Vivienne understood Owen’s assessment. The antique trade operated on strict, unwritten rules—once purchased, items couldn't be returned. Buyers either profited from their choices or accepted their mistakes. Natalie had brazenly violated these principles.

Before she could respond, a knock interrupted. She opened the door to find Vanessa.

“Miss Hayes, Mr. Hopkins asked me to bring you this milk specifically.”

Owen, overhearing Vanessa, demanded, “Vivienne, where are you at this hour?”

“At a friend’s house,” she replied flatly.

“Which friend? Do I know them?”

“You’re being too loud,” Vivienne said, ending the call.

Owen stared at his silent phone, realizing Vivienne’s evasion was significant. Vivienne noticed the coffee on Vanessa’s tray. “Is that for Derek?”

“Yes,” Vanessa confirmed. “Late-night coffee isn’t healthy. As staff, we can’t advise him, but surely work isn’t more important than his well-being, right, Miss Hayes?”

Vivienne nodded absently. “Please prepare a glass of milk for him instead. I’ll take it to him.”

“That would be wonderful,” Vanessa exclaimed, quickly preparing another glass and returning to Vivienne’s room. She handed Vivienne the tray. “Thank you, Miss Hayes.”

Feeling somewhat cornered, Vivienne merely nodded. “You’re welcome.”

She approached Derek’s study, knocked, and gently pushed open the door. The intensity of his gaze made her throat constrict. Her grip tightened on the tray as she drew a steadying breath and stepped inside.

His icy expression melted into a gentle smile upon recognizing her. She watched him close and set aside his file. “Am I disturbing you?” she ventured.

“Yes,” he answered directly.

Feeling awkward, Vivienne said with a sheepish smile, “I’ll just leave this here and go.” She placed the milk on his desk and turned to leave. Her hand touched the doorknob; as the door swung open, a hand brushed past her hair, pressing against the wood.