Chapter 172

Vivienne’s keen intuition detected the calculated evasiveness in Derek’s words. His reluctance to share information hung heavy in the air, leaving a bitter taste of frustration. The feeling of being deliberately excluded, while others seemed privy to secrets, gnawed at her.

After ending the call, she sprawled across her bed, her eyes fixed on the blank ceiling. The sudden crash of the door jolting open startled her upright, revealing Owen striding into the room. “What brings you here?” she blurted out.

Owen settled into a chair with casual grace. “How about we clear that troubled mind of yours with an outing?”

Vivienne studied him, her irritation simmering. After a moment, she asked, “Our usual routine?”

“Sure,” Owen agreed.

As they stepped into the hallway, Benjamin emerged from his bedroom, his gaze scrutinizing Vivienne’s attire before settling disapprovingly on Owen. “Taking Vivienne out for another adventure, are you?”

“Grandpa, it’s just a simple ride,” Vivienne soothed, linking her arm through his as she helped him navigate the stairs. “I’m staying at Uncle Sinclair’s apartment tonight, but I’ll be back this weekend for dinner.”

Benjamin, speechless, stared at Vivienne, whose features bore a striking resemblance to Hailey’s. With a resigned sigh, he murmured, “Be safe.”

“She’s in good hands with me,” Owen assured him. “No harm will come to her.”

Benjamin’s derisive snort spoke volumes. “That’s precisely what concerns me. She’s picked up all these unladylike habits from you.”

“Time to go!” Owen exclaimed, a headache brewing from Benjamin’s criticism. He grasped Vivienne’s wrist, guiding her swiftly toward the exit.

As Benjamin watched them leave, concern etched deeper lines onto his face. The butler observed his expression. “Worried about Miss Hayes’s matrimonial prospects, Mr. Sinclair?”

Benjamin turned to him with a weary sigh. “What’s your take on this?”

A knowing smile played across the butler’s lips. “Each generation charts its own course, Mr. Sinclair. Why burden yourself with worry?”

Benjamin fell silent, his gaze drawn to the soaring birds, melancholy shadowing his eyes as he considered the butler’s words.

Owen and Vivienne arrived at SS Racing Club. After changing into their racing gear, the staff presented two magnificent vehicles: a dark purple Lykan for Vivienne and a black Shelby for Owen.

Owen sat in the driver’s seat, one arm draped across the lowered window. “Try not to cry when you lose, Vivienne,” he taunted.

“Less talk!” Vivienne shot back, her attention laser-focused on the countdown display.

The moment it expired, she unleashed the engine’s power, her vehicle launching forward like lightning. Owen, expecting rust in Vivienne’s skills, witnessed instead a masterclass in precision driving. She executed two consecutive turns flawlessly, maximizing her acceleration with expert timing. His playful demeanor vanished as she threatened to overtake him at the bend.

Their vehicles danced neck and neck around the track, neither yielding an inch. The intensity of their competition drew a growing crowd of spectators, eager to witness this unexpected display of skill.